Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own any part of the Game of Thrones nor Harry Potter universes That includes but is not limited to the characters, locations, … Who knew.

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Story Note * - A patron flagged that part of the previous chapter had been cut off, that has been added back. Thanks for the heads up. If you are reading this after Sept 30, 2024 there is no need to worry but if you read it before. You can go back and reread the previous chapter. Enjoy the chapter!


"Welcome to Winterfell," he said, stepping around the desk to greet Harry. "I am Eddard Stark, Lord of this castle."

Harry offered a small bow, unsure of the proper etiquette but figuring it couldn't hurt to be polite. "Thank you, Lord Stark. It's an honor to meet you."

Lord Eddard Stark studied him, his grey eyes narrowing slightly as he took in the young man before him. The intensity of his gaze made Harry shift slightly on his feet, uncertain of what the Lord of Winterfell might say next. When Stark finally spoke, his voice was steady, but there was a sharp edge to it, as if he were probing for something beneath the surface.

"Why did you do it?" Lord Stark asked, his tone betraying no emotion.

Harry blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. "What do you mean? Wouldn't you have done the same thing in my position?"

Ned shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Harry's face. "This isn't about me. I want to know why you did what you did. You could have ignored the situation, avoided the injury, and made it to Winterfell safely with no one the wiser. Why didn't you?"

Harry felt the weight of Stark's stare, realizing that this was more than just a simple question. Lord Stark was trying to gauge his character, to understand what kind of person stood before him. Harry's mind raced as he tried to put his thoughts in order. He glanced out the window, the cold light of the North filtering through the thick glass as he searched for the right words.

"Part of it," Harry began, his voice thoughtful, "was being in the right place at the right time. But more than that, I wasn't willing to stand by and watch someone get … hurt." He shook his head, his voice firm as he looked back at Stark. "I've done a lot more for a lot less."

Lord Stark's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe approval. "So, you did it because you're reckless?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. "No, it's because I'm unwilling to stand by and let bad things happen. That's not the type of person I'll ever be. I'll do what I can to help those who need it."

For a long moment, there was silence between them, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Finally, a small smile tugged at the corners of Stark's mouth, an expression that seemed almost out of place on his serious face.

"In the South," Stark said, "you might have become a knight with that attitude. But as we do not believe in such titles in the North, so unfortunately you shall have to just make do with our gratitude."

Harry smiled back, a bit of the tension easing from his shoulders. "Like I said, I didn't do it for a reward. I did it because it was the right thing to do."

Stark nodded, his expression returning to its usual seriousness. "Yes, Maester Luwin informed me that you declined any reward from Eira's parents. Surely there must be something you would accept?"

Harry thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I can't think of anything I need. I'm still trying to find my way and decide what's in store for my future. But if it's alright, I'd appreciate staying in Winterfell while I decide what's next."

Ned Stark considered him for a moment before nodding. "That is the least we can do. You can be our guest for the next few days. Though there will be much happening, as I'm sure you've heard that King Robert is on his way to Winterfell."

Harry nodded. "I did hear something about that."

"Then feel free to stay as long as you want and consider yourself a personal guest of House Stark until at least the king arrives. I can make no promises once he does, as I predict we shall be overrun by Southerners," Stark paused, a slight smile playing at his lips once more. "No offense intended."

Harry chuckled softly. "And none taken, my lord."

Lord Stark called for one of the servants, who entered the room quickly and stood at attention. "Arrange a room in the castle's guest quarters for our guest," Stark instructed, his voice commanding but not unkind.

The servant nodded and left the room to carry out the order. Stark then turned back to Harry. "I would be delighted to invite you to join my family for the evening meal."

"Thank you, Lord Stark," Harry said, feeling a bit out of his depth but grateful for the offer.

With a nod of dismissal, Lord Stark returned to his desk, already lost in the papers spread before him. Harry took this as his cue to leave and quietly exited the solar, closing the door softly behind him.

The servant who had been instructed to prepare his room soon reappeared and led Harry through the winding corridors of Winterfell.

Eventually, they arrived at a modest but comfortable room. The space was small but cozy, with a bed covered in thick furs, a sturdy wooden chair, and a table by the window that offered a view of the inner courtyard. A small fireplace was set into one wall, a stack of wood neatly piled beside it. Harry noticed that his meager bag of supplies had already been placed on the chair. He couldn't help but feel a sense of relief; after the long journey and the harrowing events that had brought him here, it was good to have an actual place to rest.

"Thank you," Harry said to the servant. "Is there somewhere I can take a bath? I feel a bit ... grimy after the last couple days."

The servant looked at him with a hint of confusion, as if the request was unusual. After a moment, though, he nodded. "Aye. The hot springs are where folk bathe. It's down in the cellars, deep beneath the castle. It's not often used unless there's an important event coming, but the water's always hot, and you'll certainly find it plenty quiet this time of day."

"Perfect," Harry said, nodding in appreciation. The idea of soaking in hot water was more appealing than anything else at that moment.

The servant led Harry down a series of winding staircases and narrow corridors that descended deeper and deeper into the bowels of Winterfell. The air grew warmer as they went, and Harry began to feel a slight humidity in the air. Finally, they arrived in a dimly lit large chamber, its walls glistening with moisture. The floor was uneven stone, worn smooth by likely centuries of use, and steam rose from a large pool of water that dominated the center of the room and stretched off into the darkness.

Harry was a little surprised to find that the entire area was open, with no privacy for bathing. He hesitated for a moment, but the heat radiating from the water and lack of anyone else present quickly persuaded him that the discomfort of public nudity was a small price to pay for a proper bath.

"I'll bring you down a fresh set of clothes," the servant said, bowing slightly. "Take your time; there's no rush."

"Thank you," Harry replied, already beginning to unlace his boots. The servant nodded and made his way back up the stairs, leaving Harry alone in the dimly lit chamber.

Harry quickly undressed, carefully unwrapping the bandage from his leg. He smiled when he saw that the cut was well on its way to healing, though it was still incredibly tender. Easing himself into the water, he grimaced slightly at the initial heat but soon relaxed as the warmth seeped into his muscles. He made his way down the length of the water to where it was dark and leaned back against the edge of the pool, closing his eyes and letting the tension drain away.

The darkness of the chamber, combined with the soothing heat, made it easy to lose track of time. Harry floated on his back, the water lapping gently at his skin. The events that had occurred since he arrived seemed distant now, the danger and uncertainty dulled by the comforting warmth of the hot springs.

At some point, Harry heard the servant return, but he waved him off, still content to linger in the water. The servant asked if he needed anything else, but Harry assured him that he was fine. After confirming that Harry knew his way back to the upper levels, the servant dropped the new clothing in a small alcove and left, mentioning that he had other tasks to attend to.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Harry decided that it was time to get out. He slowly rose from the water, feeling the air on his skin as he wrapped a towel around himself. To his surprise, his leg felt much better after the soak, and the pain had diminished to a dull ache. Using a fresh cloth, he re-bandaged his leg and then dressed in the new clothes that had been left for him. He noticed almost immediately that the fabric was thicker and much nicer than the ones he had worn previously.

As Harry made his way back up into the castle, he quickly realized that he had no idea where his room was. The labyrinthine corridors of Winterfell all looked the same, and he had paid little attention to the path they had taken earlier. Realizing he was in no rush, he decided to take the opportunity to explore the castle.

He wandered through the hallways, occasionally peeking into rooms as he passed. Some were clearly unused, filled with dust-covered furniture and cobwebs, while others were bustling with activity. As he turned a corner, he bumped into Branwyn emerging from a room. He had a serious expression but immediately brightened at the sight of Harry.

"Harry! It's good to see you up and about."

"Hello, Branwyn" Harry said, smiling. "It's nice to be up. What are you up to?"

"Was just grabbing something from the library of Maester Luwin," the boy replied before pausing and looking at Harry. "Are you lost?"

"A bit," Harry admitted. "But it's good to know where the library is. I'd love to take a look inside at some point. And then I don't need to keep relying on you to read things to me."

The boy looked surprised. "You can read?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Yes. You make it seem like you didn't expect me to."

The boy stared at him in shock. "Not many can read outside of maesters, nobility, and stewards. Even fewer would choose to read if they had the choice. But I can show you around the library tomorrow if you'd like."

"That would be great," Harry said, genuinely interested. "I'll look forward to it."

"I have to get this to Maester Luwin right now," the boy said, holding up the book he had been holding as he glanced down the hallway. "But I'll find you tomorrow."

Harry nodded, and watched him dash off, leaving Harry to continue his exploration. He wandered aimlessly until he found himself in the central courtyard, where the sound of clashing wood caught his attention.

A group of boys was practicing with wooden swords, sparring with one another under the watchful eye of a stern-faced man who barked instructions. Harry paused to watch, noting the intensity of their practice. The boys ranged in age, three looked to be about his age while one was barely more than a child.

One boy, who appeared to certainly be related to Lord Stark, stood out. He was tall and had a lean build, with dark hair that fell into his eyes as he fought. His movements were quick and precise, and he seemed to have a natural talent for swordplay. Harry watched as he disarmed his opponent with a swift move, sending the other boy's wooden sword clattering to the ground.

"Well done, Jon!" the instructor called out. "But keep your guard up. You leave your left side exposed when you strike."

The boy, Jon, nodded and retrieved his opponent's sword, handing it back to him with a nod of respect. The other boy, who was likely close in age but had fairer features, looked both impressed and a little disappointed.

"Again," the instructor commanded, and the boys resumed their sparring.

As he watched, lost in the rhythm of the fight, a small voice from beside him broke his concentration. "Who are you?"

Startled, Harry looked down to see a young girl standing next to him. She was small, with dark hair and gray eyes that were filled with curiosity. Harry quickly composed himself and smiled.

"I'm Harry," he replied, his voice gentle. "A guest of Lord Stark."

The girl's eyes lit up with recognition. "Are you the one who saved Eira?" she asked eagerly, her voice a mix of awe and excitement.

Harry nodded; a bit surprised by how quickly news traveled in Winterfell. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

The girl paused for a moment, as if deciding something, then said, "I'm … no one."

Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You can't be no one. Everyone is someone."

The girl's serious expression softened, and she smiled slightly. "I'm Arya," she admitted, though her tone still held a touch of mischief.

"It's nice to meet you, Arya," Harry said warmly.

Arya's attention shifted back to the sparring boys, and she tilted her head toward them. "Do you like watching them fight? I really enjoy it," she said, her eyes following the movement of the swords.

Harry nodded as he looked back down to where there were fighting again. "They look pretty good," he commented.

Arya laughed, a bright, infectious sound that made Harry smile. "Jon and Robb are good … probably really good," she said, pointing at the two older boys who had been fighting when Harry had started watching, she shifted her attention and pointed at the smallest boy. "But Bran isn't."

Harry followed her gaze to the youngest boy, who looked to be struggling with his form off to the side as he tried to mimic what the others were doing at a slower speed. "And who's that?" Harry asked, gesturing to the final boy who seemed more interested in watching the others than actually fighting.

"That's Theon," Arya replied. "He's my fa… Lord Stark's ward, he's only okay at it. But he's more interested in archery."

Harry nodded, intrigued by the dynamics he was learning about. "Are they training to become guards?"

Arya shook her head. "No, Theon's a ward, but the others are Lord Stark's children."

Harry blinked in surprise, turning to look at Arya more closely. "I didn't realize that," he said, before turning and looking back down on the boys in the yard.

Arya mumbled something under her breath that Harry didn't quite catch. He leaned down slightly. "Sorry, what was that?"

Arya hesitated before speaking again, her voice quieter. "I wish I was allowed to be down there."

Harry frowned, as he looked at her. "Lord Stark doesn't allow other children to train with his own?"

Arya shook her head, a frustrated look crossing her face. "No, it's not that. My mother prefers I do more … ladylike activities," she said, her tone bitter. "And fighting doesn't count as one."

Harry could see the disappointment in her eyes and felt a pang of sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said honestly. "Where I'm from, boys and girls can fight together if they want to. One of my best friends is one of the smartest people I know, and she's an incredible fighter too."

Arya's eyes widened in surprise, her mouth dropping open slightly. "Where are you from?" she asked, her voice full of wonder. "Dorne?"

Harry laughed softly, shaking his head. "No, not Dorne. Somewhere much further away."

Arya's gaze returned to the sparring boys; her expression wistful. "I wish I was allowed to fight like them."

Harry opened his mouth to say something more, but he was interrupted by a woman's voice calling out from around the corner. "Arya!"

Arya's eyes widened in alarm, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. "I need to run," she whispered to Harry, then took off in the opposite direction of the voice, her small feet carrying her quickly down the corridor.

Less than a second later, a middle-aged woman in white robes appeared around the corner, her expression stern. She seemed surprised to see Harry standing there and quickly composed herself. "I am Septa Mordane," she introduced herself, her tone polite but firm. "Have you seen Arya?"

Harry paused, recalling Arya's playful escape, and then shook his head. "I just arrived at the castle. I don't know who Arya is."

Septa Mordane nodded, not seeming to suspect anything. "I see. Well, thank you anyway. Have a good day," she said before turning and walking off in the wrong direction.

Harry watched her go, hiding a smile as he listened to her footsteps fade. Once she was gone, he returned his attention to the sparring boys. The instructor, who had been correcting Bran's form, now shouted for a change of partners, and the boys switched places, the clattering of wooden swords resuming.

As he watched, he started wondering if it would be possible to start learning how to train here. As he still wasn't sure how his magic was going to be accepted, knowing how to use a sword might at least prevent anyone from wondering how he planned to defend himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry of pain. Bran had been knocked down by Jon, who immediately knelt beside his younger brother, concern etched on his face.

"Are you hurt?" the instructor asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

Bran winced, clutching his side where the wooden sword had struck him. "I'm fine," he muttered, trying to stand up, though it was clear he was in a slight amount of pain.

The instructor shook his head. "That's enough for today. Go see Maester Luwin and get that looked at," he ordered, helping Bran to his feet. The boy nodded, his face flushed with a mix of pain and embarrassment.

As Bran limped away, he watched as Jon placed a reassuring hand on Bran's shoulder, speaking to him in low, comforting tones as they walked away together.

The remaining boys, Robb and Theon, were still sparring, their movements more deliberate that those of Jon and Bran, but even to his untrained eye it was obvious that Arya had been correct. Robb was a significantly better fighter and as a result, Theon was constantly on the defensive.

After a few more minutes, the instructor called an end to the session. "Well done, lads. Go clean up before the evening meal. We'll continue on tomorrow."

Harry watched as Robb and Theon walked to the edge of the courtyard, where they began putting away their gear. Once they were out of sight, Harry turned and left his vantage point. As he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with a servant hurrying past.

"Pardon me," Harry said quickly, stepping aside.

The servant, a young man with a timid expression, stopped and bowed slightly. "No trouble at all. How can I assist you?"

Harry considered before looking down the hallway. "Could you show me to the guest quarters? I need to drop off my clothes before preparing for the evening meal."

"Of course," the servant replied, straightening up. "Follow me, please."

The servant guided Harry through the winding corridors of Winterfell. As they walked, the servant pointed out a few landmarks—the stairs that led to the tower, the door to stables and front gate, the hallway to the Godswood. Harry noted these locations, trying to commit them to memory in case he needed to find his way around later and made a mental note to talk to Branwyn about what a Godswood was.

Finally, they arrived at a heavy wooden door that led to Harry's quarters. The servant pushed it open and stepped aside to let Harry enter. "Your room," he said, bowing slightly again. "The dining hall is just down the corridor to the left. People will start gathering shortly."

"Thank you," Harry said, nodding his appreciation. The servant departed with another bow, leaving Harry alone in his room.

Once he had dropped his clothes into a pile beside his bag, he sat on the edge of the bed, letting himself relax for a few moments.

However, just as he was beginning to feel at ease, he heard the sound of footsteps outside his door. Before he could rise to check, there was a knock.

"Come in," Harry called, standing up.

The door opened to reveal Maester Luwin. The maester's face lit up with a kind smile as he entered. "Ah, Harry. I'm glad to see you settling in. I thought I might escort you to the dining hall, if you're ready."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the familiar face. "Thank you, Maester Luwin. I'd appreciate that as even with directions I was imagining I would get lost."

As they made their way to the dining hall, Maester Luwin walked with a measured pace, his hands clasped behind his back. "Lord Stark often rotates the guest of honor at the head table," he explained. "It allows him to stay informed about what's happening in and around Winterfell. Tonight, you'll have that privilege."

Harry was slightly surprised but nodded in appreciation. "That's very considerate of him."

They reached the dining hall, and Harry took a moment to take in the sight. The hall was grand, with high ceilings supported by thick wooden beams. The walls were adorned with banners displaying the direwolf sigil of House Stark, and a large fireplace at one end of the room filled the space with warmth. The long wooden tables were already half-full with people. Maester Luwin explained that some of them were Stark bannermen who happened to be in Winterfell for a variety of reasons but most of them were castle staff and their family. They were all engaged in lively conversation that couldn't help but remind him of the atmosphere in the Hogwarts Great Hall as they waited for the meal to begin.

Maester Luwin led Harry to the head table, where Lord Stark was seated at the center. Next to him were Robb, Bran, and a girl who appeared to be around Robb's age. As the two of them approached, Lord Stark looked up and smiled.

"Ah Harry, I'm glad you decided to join us," Lord Stark greeted him warmly. "I trust your first day on your feet again has been well?"

"It has, my lord," Harry replied, taking the offered seat next to Robb, who gave him polite smile. "Winterfell is certainly magnificent. I checked out the hot springs before happening upon the training in the courtyard. Your sons are impressive fighters."

Bran's face lit up at the compliment, his earlier discomfort from training forgotten. "Did you really think I looked good?" he asked, his voice a mix of hope and pride.

Harry smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "You did indeed. I pity any who chose to cross blades with you and don't doubt that in a few years there will be few who can match your skills."

Robb smiled at his brother before nodding towards Harry, though he was more reserved in his reaction. "Thank you for the compliment. We've been training since we were young. Father says it's important to be prepared for anything."

Just then a lady entered the hall from a side door, carrying a young child, in her arms, and approached the head table sitting beside Lord Stark. After she took her seat Harry watched as Jon got up from one of the long tables below and took a seat at the far end of the table, his presence almost unnoticed by the others.

Lord Stark turned to Harry, officially introducing him to the rest of the family. "Harry, this is my wife, Catelyn. And these are our children—Robb, Sansa, Bran, and little Rickon."

Catelyn offered Harry a polite smile, though her eyes held a certain coolness that Harry couldn't quite place. "Thank you for saving Eira," she said formally, her tone measured.

Robb and Bran, however, were more honest in their praise. "We heard you fought off a group of men to save her," Robb said, his eyes bright with interest. "Is that true?"

Bran leaned in, his young face full of awe. "Was it really dangerous?"

Sansa, the young girl who had been sitting quietly, finally spoke up. "That sounds very heroic," she said, her voice soft and admiring as she smiled briefly at him.

Harry felt a bit overwhelmed by their attention, but he nodded, giving them a modest smile. "It was a bit dangerous, but I'm just glad I was able to help."

As he spoke, Harry's gaze drifted to Jon, who was sitting quietly at the end of the table, his expression unreadable. Lord Stark noticed Harry's glance and hesitated for a moment as he looked towards his wife before introducing the final member of the table. "And this is Jon Snow."

Jon gave Harry a brief nod, his eyes flicking up to meet his before quickly looking away. Harry was about to say something to Jon, but Lord Stark interrupted, his voice suddenly louder as he looked around the hall.

"And where in the bloody hell is Arya?"

Harry's eyes shot up in surprise. He scanned the room and noticed the girl he had met earlier sitting at one of the lower tables, hidden among a group of children her age, including Eira. Arya slowly rose from her seat, her face a mix of defiance and guilt, and approached the head table.

As Arya reached the table, she gave Harry a small wave, which he returned with a smile. Lord Stark's stern expression softened slightly as he looked at his daughter. "And this is my youngest daughter, but I see you've already met," he said, his tone a mixture of amusement and mild reprimand.

Harry nodded, trying to ease the tension. "I ran into her while I was watching the fighting. She's quite observant."

Arya grinned, clearly pleased with the compliment, while Lady Catelyn pursed her lips, her disapproval evident.

As the meal began, the hall filled with the sounds of conversation and laughter. The food was hearty and plentiful, with roasted elk, a thick soup, and freshly baked bread served alongside jugs of ale and wine.

Kind Regards,

FavoriteAuthor


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Story Note 1 – Even with his slightly … Ned-like demeanor I feel that Ned Stark views the people of the North (especially in Winterfell) very fondly as such I believe that someone risking his life for a stranger as Harry did would be a big thing. Especially as Eira's parents are relatively important to both Lord and Lady Stark (chambermaid and personal guard). So I thought Ned's actions would fall in line with canon Stark.

Story Note 2 – Hope you liked the interaction with Arya, including the small bit of foreshadowing. I felt it fit with Arya's character as wanted to be someone else than "just a lady". So when she stumbled across someone who did not know who she was she just introduced herself as Arya without mentioning she was a Stark.


A large thanks to those of you out there who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you all are enjoying them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or have reached out to me directly.

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Sageofchaos, cameron1812, Vuduman5, mick2002, Wrixel, Nisargfr1, outcome 5, TysonG - Thanks so much for the review and I am happy to see you enjoyed the chapter and the story in general!

wsbenge - I definitely agree that Harry will start adapting to the world and that will start to affect how he reacts to situations.

tsougrhs 59 - I would imagine ending up in that world would certainly be confusing to Harry and it would take him time to react as even though Magical Britain certainly was behind the times things would be very different from how things actually were in Westeros.

JayMJane - I do agree, I always felt that if I would have been accepted to Hogwarts I would have spent every moment learning what I could.

Guest - That is a good catch, but meant it more with Wintertown added with it. And as a lot of the people (especially the common folk) only knew their immediate environment there would be alot they might not now. And might confuse importance with size.

Monarck - Thanks! I also agree. The who reborn as a baby idea sometimes comes off weird. I certainly wouldn't enjoy being able to remember getting born. Nor spending almost a year of my life unable to walk and then however many years dumbing myself down so no one thought anything of it. As for magic - huge part in this story! Don't want to give anything away but it'll be important!

Guest - That's fair and I apologize but the Starks certainly play a large part in the GoT books so starting from there and building out. However, over time Harry will start to diverge as he makes other relationships.

Shizkane - I guess we will see ... but for the near future Harry will try (hopefully) to stay under everones radar having heard stories in his world about how witches and wizards and magic in general was treated in the medieval ages.

TheWateringWizard - That's a good point. But didn't want to negate the power that distances have on the world. Additionally it will allow the plot to also build without people always wondering ... well why didn't Harry just apparate to Winterfell and stop the White Walkers or apparate to the Whispering Woods to help Robb or apparate the Twins to go to the wedding and be able to stop the wedding. Hope the meeting went well!

Fenrir070 - Really happy you are enjoying it! Haha :) definitely agree there is certainly something to be said to Harry able to end all the world's problems with a flick of his wand and blink of his eyes but I do enjoy writing the 'struggle' and therefore trying to make him a more realistic Harry Potter without nerfing him at all.

Andromedanaea - The eyeglasses are something I didn't catch good on you, will have to go back and come up with a way for that to work. And that's actually not an unreasonable solution. I'll need to think on it as that would work. The fear of getting splinched would be enough to prevent hi from using it in anything but the more dire of situations. Good suggestion though!