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Author Note 1 - I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for all the feedback and messages I've been getting on my stories. I do want to apologize, because while I've managed to keep the stories posting on a consistent basis life had gotten busy and then managed to take a well deserved vacation (first time to the Hawaiian big island), I have been a little behind on my replies and trying to catch up. Thanks again for all the support, it really means alot!
This story is dedicated to Tara T, for her support.
Harry knelt beside Bran, his hands trembling as he checked for signs of life. To his immense relief, Bran was breathing—shallow, but steady. His eyes were closed, and a nasty bruise was forming on his forehead, but he was alive. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his body sagging with relief.
"Hang on, Bran," Harry murmured, his voice barely a whisper. He looked around, his mind racing. He needed help, and quickly.
Harry pulled out his wand, his hand shaking. He had put it back in his pocket while rushing over, and now he was ready to send up sparks—anything to get help. He didn't care if the entire castle saw him using magic. But just as he was about to aim his wand skyward, a servant rounded the corner. Harry glanced between the servant and the wand before hastily shoving it back into his pocket.
"Run for Maester Luwin!" Harry shouted. "Bran fell and needs help!"
The servant's eyes went wide, and he hesitated for only a moment before bolting in the direction of Maester Luwin's chambers, his footsteps echoing through the narrow pathway as he ran. Harry looked back down at Bran, unsure what to do next. He knew a few basic healing spells, enough to stop bleeding or mend small injuries, but he didn't dare use them now. Concerned that they might hide a larger problem from Maester Luwin when he finally arrived.
He could only wait. Harry held Bran's hand, feeling helpless, his mind running through a thousand scenarios, each worse than the last. His heart pounded, but he fought the urge to panic. He had never felt more out of place in this strange world than he did right now, kneeling beside a boy who needed more help than Harry could provide.
The sound of rapid footsteps broke his thoughts, and Harry looked up to see a large direwolf bounding toward them. It was Bran's wolf, he recognized immediately. Harry instinctively backed away as Summer snarled, baring his teeth, his hackles raised. For a terrifying moment, Harry thought the wolf would attack him. But then he began to speak in calm, even tones, trying to reason with the beast.
"It's alright. I'm here to help Bran. I won't hurt him, I promise."
The wolf's growling slowly softened, and his stance relaxed slightly. The wolf stepped closer to Bran, his nose nudging the boy's cheek before settling protectively beside him. Harry let out another breath, a mix of relief and exhaustion.
Whether it was the sound of the wolf growling at Harry or his previous shouting at the servant. The commotion had drawn attention. People began to gather around the base of the Broken Tower, their eyes wide as they took in the sight before them. Whispering between each other loud enough that Harry could hear them.
"Seven save us, is that Lord Stark's son?"
"Wasn't Lady Stark always telling him not to climb those towers, if I heard it once I must have heard it a hundred times?"
"Is he dead?" a child's voice asked, loud and clear, piercing through the hushed murmurs. The question brought an uncomfortable silence over the crowd, and Harry clenched his jaw, willing the boy to wake up, to move, or to at least show some minor sign of life besides the shallow breathing.
Minutes stretched on like hours until, at last, Maester Luwin arrived, panting and out of breath. He froze for a moment at the sight of Bran, his face paling as if all hope had drained from him. Harry jumped to his feet, grabbing the maester by the shoulders.
"Now's not the time for that," Harry said, his voice sharp. "I know you have a history with the Starks, but Bran's alive, I think. You need to see what's wrong with him."
Luwin blinked, and Harry saw the fear vanish from his eyes, replaced by a steely determination. The maester knelt beside Bran, his hands moving with practiced precision. He checked Bran's breathing, pressed his fingers against his ribs, examined the bruise on his forehead, and carefully turned him to feel along his back and spine.
Harry watched, feeling useless, as Luwin worked. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the maester stood, looking at Harry with an unreadable expression.
"He's alive. That's the most important thing," Luwin said. "I believe his back is alright. The fall could have been much worse, but we won't know for sure until he wakes However, I think it will be safe to move him as long as we take our time and are careful about it."
Luwin turned to his young assistant standing nearby. "Branwyn, go find Hodor. He'll likely be in the stables, preparing for the return of the hunting party. We'll need his help and some supplies to move the boy."
Branwyn nodded and took off at a run. Luwin then turned to the assembled crowd, his gaze sweeping over the worried faces.
"What happened? Who was here first? Did anyone see anything?" the maester asked.
The people around them exchanged glances, but no one spoke up. Slowly, eyes turned toward Harry, who had been the first to find Bran. Luwin's gaze followed theirs, and he raised an eyebrow at Harry. "What happened Harry?"
Harry swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. What could he say? If he claimed that Bran had fallen from the window at the top of the tower, there was no way he would be believed—the injuries could have been much worse and he was still nervous about mentioning magic to anyone as he certainly heard enough stories about how magic users were viewed in medieval times on his world.
"I ... I'm not sure," Harry said, shaking his head. "I was coming around the corner over there." He pointed toward the path leading to the training yard. "I saw something fall and hit the ground—hard. I ran over, and only then did I realize it was Bran. I checked to make sure he was breathing, but I didn't move him, in case there were any serious injuries. I didn't want to make anything worse."
Maester Luwin nodded, his face softening slightly. "That was wise, lad."
Harry continued, "I didn't want to leave him, so I waited until a servant came by and then sent him to find you. Luckily that was only a couple seconds, certainly less than a minute. After that, I just stayed here with Bran ... and his direwolf. Between the two of us, we made sure no one touched or moved him until you got here." He paused, glancing at the direwolf. "Though for what it's worth I think the direwolf would have managed just fine on his own without me."
The hint of a hollow smile crossed Luwin's face, but it faded as quickly as it came. He opened his mouth and appeared to be about to respond when a wailing cry echoed through the area.
Harry looked up, his stomach sinking. Lady Catelyn Stark stood at the edge of the crowd, her face pale and stricken, her eyes locked on her son's still form. She pushed her way forward, her eyes wide with panic.
"No, no, my baby!" she cried, dropping to her knees beside Bran. She barely seemed to register Maester Luwin's presence, her trembling hands reaching out to touch her son's face.
"Lady Stark, please," Luwin said gently, stepping closer. "He appears to be alright, though still unconscious. It is important that we do not move him more than necessary before we move him carefully to a bed in the castle, where I can examine him further and watch over him until he wakes … if of course that is even necessary."
Catelyn barely seemed to hear him, her attention entirely on her son. Tears ran down her face as she gently grasped his hand and stroked his hair, murmuring softly to him, her voice choked with emotion.
Harry looked away, feeling like an intruder on such a private moment. He had seen grief before, but this was different. This was a mother fearing for her child, and it was raw and painful to witness.
After several minutes, Branwyn returned, with Hodor lumbering behind him. The large stableboy carried a sturdy wooden board, and rope to tie Bran to it. Under Maester Luwin's direction, they worked carefully, securing Bran in place. Hodor lifted the board with ease, and they began the slow journey back to the castle.
Harry followed a few steps behind, his eyes on Bran, his heart heavy.
As they made their way through the crowd that had assembled, Harry spotted Jon Snow, standing off to the side. Jon looked stricken, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear and grief. He seemed frozen in place, watching his half-brother being carried away.
Harry stepped over to him, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder.
"Maester Luwin thinks he's going to be alright," Harry said quietly. "He's just unconscious. He hit his head when he fell, but he'll wake up."
Jon didn't respond. He stared at Bran, his expression unreadable, but Harry could see the fear in his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world had settled on them.
"What if ... what if I'd been with him this afternoon?" Jon whispered, his voice cracking. "He wouldn't have ..."
Harry tightened his grip on Jon's shoulder, enough that he was sure it was almost painful. "Don't," he said firmly. "Don't start thinking like that. This wasn't your fault. Thinking otherwise is just idiotic, and it won't help Bran. What he needs is for you to be strong, for you to be there when he wakes up. So, stop feeling sorry for yourself."
Jon looked at him, his eyes wide in surprise, and for a moment, Harry thought he might argue or punch him. But then Jon looked away, his shoulders slumping even further as he nodded.
Harry gave him a small pat before turning to follow the procession carrying Bran inside.
However, as Harry followed, several steps behind Branwyn, he failed to notice that Jon hadn't been the only pair of eyes in the crowd that had looked at him. With all eyes, even Jon's, now on Bran, there were still one pair of baby blue eyes that were staring at Harry as he entered the castle. The same set of eyes that just a handful of minutes ago had happened to watch by chance as Harry raised a stick and shouted something before running off in the direction of something that had fallen out of a window. Something that had ended up appearing to be the son of Lord and Lady Stark.
- HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW -
The castle was heavy with an atmosphere of anxiety as Hodor carried Bran inside, Maester Luwin leading the way, his brow furrowed with worry. Harry followed close behind, trying to keep himself composed, even as his own heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness. He had tried to do something—tried to stop Bran's fall—but his spell hadn't done enough. The fall had happened so fast, and the suddenness of it still shook him to his core.
As they made their way through the corridors of Winterfell, Harry kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with the guards and servants they passed. The news of Bran's fall had spread rapidly, and those they met along the way cast looks of concern and fear towards the small group. Harry could hear the whispers, the murmurs of uncertainty, but he tried to ignore them.
They finally reached the chambers where Bran would be tended to. Maester Luwin directed Hodor and a couple of the men who had followed them to gently release Bran from the board and slide him onto the bed, and once the boy was settled, Maester Luwin began his examination, his hands moving with practiced care. Harry stood off to the side, watching as the maester checked Bran's pulse, his breathing, and then examined the body from his head to his toes—including his wrists, his back, the bruises, and the cut on Bran's head.
Harry's heart sank as he realized how fragile Bran looked, lying there unconscious. He felt a pang of guilt; he should have been quicker, should have been able to do more. He was a wizard—he should have been able to save Bran. And yet, magic seemingly wasn't all-powerful.
After Maester Luwin completed his more complete examination of Bran he motioned for Harry to stay, while shooing out the rest of the individuals in the room save for Branwyn and of course Catelyn. From his position along the wall, he watched quietly as Maester Luwin spoke with Lady Stark, his words meant to reassure, though Harry could see that Catelyn was far from comforted, especially when he mentioned that he just appeared to be asleep although he had been unable to rouse him even with the use of salts that were specifically designed to do so. The tears in her eyes as she sat, in a chair one of the servants had brought in for her, beside Bran's bed, clutching his hand, made Harry's heart ache.
Eventually, Maester Luwin approached him, and Harry repeated his story—how he had seen something falling just as he had turned the corner but hadn't seen what had caused it. The maester's eyes had lingered on him, probing for any hint that Harry might be withholding something, any hint that Harry might have seen something or someone else in the area, but eventually, he had nodded and dismissed Harry. As Harry stepped out of the room, he felt the weight of Maester Luwin's question on his shoulders. He remembered the sight of Bran flying out of the window as if thrown or pushed backwards.
In the hallway, he was greeted by a sight that caused a lump to form in his throat—Sansa and Arya, both crying, clinging to Jon Snow. Jon looked almost as broken as they did, his arms wrapped around the two girls, trying to comfort them. When they saw Harry, their eyes filled with fear and just a hint of cautious hope. After several seconds he finally found his voice and asked, his voice thick with emotion.
"How is he?" Jon choked out. "Will he … will he be ok?"
Harry swallowed hard, nodding as he tried to give them some comfort. He explained what Maester Luwin had said—how even though Bran had not yet woken up, he was stable, and other than a broken wrist which he had discovered in the room, and already splinted, there was certainly no worsening of his condition since he had first examined him at the base of the tower. The words seemed to offer them some relief, but it was clear that the actual scenario of Bran not waking weighed heavily on them all.
After delivering the news, Harry found himself at a loss for what to do. This wasn't his place, he realized—this was a family grieving and hoping together, and he was still an outsider. So, he turned and left, walking away from the area. He walked through the corridors, his mind clouded with worry, guilt, and frustration. What could have been different if he had reacted faster? Could he have prevented all of this?
Harry found himself outside, staring up at the sky, as if searching for answers in the blue sky above Winterfell. Then, his eyes caught on the broken tower, its dark silhouette a stark reminder of what had happened and he remembered one of Maester Luwin's questions—had anyone else been there? And again he remembered how it had appeared that Bran had not just fallen backwards but had been pushed away from the window.
Without thinking, he took off at a run towards the broken tower. He had to know if there was more to what had happened—if Bran had fallen, or if someone had … been the cause of what had happened.
He nearly ran over a few people on his way, his heart pounding, his breath coming in short bursts. As he reached the base of the tower, he drew his wand, feeling the comforting weight of it in his hand. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to find, but he wanted to be prepared. He ran up the stairs two at a time, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls, until he reached the top.
The room was empty, as he had expected, but as Harry stepped inside, he could see the evidence that it had been used recently. Dust lay thick on the floor, but there were footprints—some small, some larger—with the smaller prints only around the window. Harry's heart sank as he realized the small prints were likely Bran's.
He walked over to the window, staring down at the courtyard below. The height made his stomach turn. He could see it in his mind—Bran falling, his small body hurtling towards the ground, even with Harry's attempted spell. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He turned back to the room and noticed a bit of color beside the bed. Harry raised his eyebrows and made his way over finding a snagged piece of bright red fabric by the bed.
Harry bent down, picking up the fabric, feeling his anger rise. There had been people here, at least two, possibly more. Someone had been here when Bran fell. Someone had pushed him. He clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the piece of fabric. He had no idea who had done this or why, but he knew one thing—this wasn't an accident.
As Harry stared at the fabric, trying to calm himself, he looked out the window again. His heart sank as he saw a large group of riders approaching the castle gates to the south. Even from this distance, he could make out King Robert, his imposing figure unmistakable. And beside him rode what Harry assumed was Ned Stark, and Harry felt his heart sank further. Ned would hear the news soon, and Harry felt a deep sense of dread at the thought. His only measure of relief was that it wasn't his responsibility to deliver the news, but he knew he couldn't stay idle either.
Harry made his way down the stairs, his heart heavy. He needed to help Bran, needed to do something to make up for his failure. Now that Maester Luwin had completed his check of Bran, the couple of healing spells he knew while not enough to heal Bran completely, could at least fix the wrist to make sure it healed properly and heal all the bruises and several cuts. And who knows … he had to try.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped out of the tower, he paused, cringing at the sound of the horses in the main yard, indicating that the King's party and Lord Stark had returned and had learned or were about to learn of what had happened. He took a step forward, only to freeze at the sound of a voice behind him.
"I saw what you did."
Harry turned, his heart skipping a beat. There, in the shadows of one of the doorways, were a pair of blue eyes staring at him intently.
"Just what are you?" the voice asked.
Kind Regards,
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Story Note 1 – The eyes that were staring at Harry in both instances were indeed the same individual, would have been alittle too much otherwise. Any guesses who it might be? Next chapter will of course start with the reveal and a big conversation.
Story Note 2 – As with the book, will probably jump over the most of the remainder of the extended visit in Winterfell and other than the above mentioned conversation and a few brief highlights the party will soon be on their way to King's Landing.
Story Note 3 – While the plot will start to diverge (quite soon) as Harry's choices/mere presence affects other characters and their decisions to varying degrees. I felt that Harry being in King's Landing would certainly be more beneficial for him that him being 'stuck' in the North. In the end I weighed the idea of Harry staying North and serving as a general for Robb or trekking out north of the wall with the potential of Harry going to King's Landing and possibly coming up with a spell to rid the city of it's stink. And in the end, decided to write Harry looking after the greater good! Haha but there is certainly more opportunity to have an affect on what is going on if he heads south. Plus, then he won't have to rely on visions and dreams as a source of information. And everyone knows from the Chamber of Secrets just how important spiders can be with providing information … good thing it was Harry who ended up here and not Ron.
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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BioHazard82, Guest x 3, Monkey D. Conan, - Thanks so much for the review and I really hope you continue to enjoy the story (do not hesitate to provide any feedback on what you like/think needs work).
et-reader97 - I imagine that Harry will certainly have more interactions with all the Stark children, especially Arya and Jon, and that will slowly but surely start to change things with them. Stay tuned! Haha. But as for the fall I guess we will see the outcome but sure looks a little more promising as it stands right now.
Ariadne Venegas - There certainly is a greater than even chance that Harry will be heading south for the winter (as someone who has visited Michigan and Canada) that seems like a smart idea. As for Rob's future he's not getting a betrothal anytime soon but certainly predict a better future in store for him.
Ebrahim051 - That is an incredibly valid question and I'd imagine there is a National everyday for everytype of food.
rajeshkont - Hey! Stop sneaking looks into the future! Haha but I guess we will see?
cameron1812 - Glad you enjoyed it. It is a balance between what from the books needs to happen again and finding a unique and interesting and new way to tell it. Glad this one came off alright!
Fenrir070 - That is such a good point. And especially for a relative stranger/new person to Winterfell while he can certainly impact decisions its not like he can just walk in and suddenly cause everyone to listen to him. So chose to go in the direction where he is slowly influencing how others may think through situations/approach decisions. That being said as Harry's relationships grow he will start having more immediate influence. And of course once he becomes stronger (possibly at the same time he starts using magic more freely) he will certainly have more people wanting to listen to him. And for what it's worth, I sure hope Harry knows a spell to block the smell - that would certainly not be a treat.
JayMJane - I chose to view the spell as a way to slow momentum, rather than suddenly stop momentum completely and immediately. To me it makes the most sense and was inspired by the scene in the Amazing Spiderman (with Andrew Garfield) when he was trying to save Gwen Stacey and he suddely stops her momentum ... RIP Gwen. Chose to view it as if he immediately stopped the momentum it would just be like Bran hitting the ground but still in the air. This way it acted more as a cushion which slowed his fall. Unfortunately he was moving so fast so that even though he started slowing down as he fell, he still had enough momentum that he was still moving when he hit the ground.