Chapter 1

Harry Potter, Master of Death, never a good start to a story when this title was mentioned. Harry thought to himself as he floated in what he was sure was embryonic fluid or the water within a womb. Having lived through all he has, this was a little too much. Was it too hard for Death, and yes he meant actual death, to have him reincarnated into the body of a teen or at the very least a child.

"And it's a boy! Congratulations, my lady!" A man in grey robes said while holding a quiet and very angry looking baby. "Oh, I don't think he wanted to come out just yet." The maester chuckled, passing the babe into his mother's arms.

'I won't ever forget this, you hear me? Hold still, I'm going to memorize your face.' Harry tried to say it with all the vitriol in his body but his undeveloped vocal cords decided to gargle incoherently. Glaring at the grey rat that manhandled him, yes and he did mean manhandle, Harry vowed to kill him one day.

To his surprise, the old man's eyes turned a deep shade of black and winked at him. 'Death, you sick bastard! Isn't this like against your domain or something? Helping birth life, when you're meant to claim it? Hypocrite, touching me like this.' Harry helplessly raged in his vulnerable little body.

The Maester chuckled as if hearing the baby's thoughts, "No, Harry. There is nothing stating that I cannot help a mother deliver her baby. In fact, there's actually zero rules imposed upon me, I'm somewhere near the pinnacle of existence." Harry spat his mother's nipple out and wiggled to get it away from him but sadly she was a full grown adult so it went right back in his mouth, with little difficulty. Death laughed sadistically, or so Harry liked to believe.

'She must still be angry that I accidentally leaked the recipe to the Philosopher's stone.' Everyone and their grandmother held one in their back pocket. Until Death caused a worldwide near-extinction event that left humanity picking up the pieces for centuries. As punishment, Harry was to help humanity flourish once more… with no magic too. Harry didn't even know Death could take his magic away, it was tied directly to his life force. Actually, it was his life force yet he was made a muggle with a snap.

"Harry? I wanted to name him after his grandfather, Lord Rickard Stark." Ashara Dayne said in a daze, apparently oblivious to the full blown one-sided conversation the man was having with her baby.

"Lord was his first name? Odd name but no, I think Harry fits better. Or maybe Harriekins, yes choose that name." Death finished with a pleased nod. Harry's mouth frothed with milk, spilling it all over Ashara.

"Harriekins… the name feels only partially right, I think I'll go with Harry. You like that, son?" Harry nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, normally I'd say I have to leave for important business but there's actually some here right now that I need to take care of." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I'm taking her with me, she's due to die not long after your birth but I don't want to come back here again later. Some eunuch or whatever will have her killed but I'll save him the trouble." Death reached for her scythe and in a practiced motion that Harry was all too familiar with, Ashara Dayne took one last breath. With her last breath, she told his name to the midwife who came back into the room with a new change of clothes. With one last wave, Death vanished.

Just like that, Harry was now an orphan again. 'Oh wait, my dad should still be around here somewhere. What kind of man misses the birth of his son?' Where was his useless, pathetic excuse of a dad?'

"Oh my sweet lady! Not you too, just when I was going to tell you of the horrible fate that befell your husband, Brandon Stark. Dead at the hands of the Mad King, how tragic, you will now be at peace with him. At least this saves me the trouble of having to kill you. Oh well, hmm, what to do about you though?" The woman held him up, inspecting him before taking him downstairs to share the news of his mother's death with what Harry assumed to be the Dayne family.

Harry wondered what messed up world he landed himself in, maybe he shouldn't have thrown himself into the veil afterall. Earth was too far gone for magic though, the leylines never recovered after all the deaths. Walking down the empty streets of Diagon Alley or the desolate halls of Hogwarts, it was a feeling Harry couldn't bear for long. Not that he blamed Death, Harry really did cause major irreversible damage with the widespread use of the elixir.

Winterfell, Westeros 297 AC

Harry observed from afar at the great progress he made over the last decade of his life. Maybe not the entire decade but within the last decade nonetheless. As the head of House Stark, he lived a better life than most, which didn't say much. House Stark was one of the poorest great houses, if not the poorest. Especially during winter, even the northern nobles weren't spared when the cold arrived. Not for lack of trying, the North was far too large and sparse for any profit to be made from great ventures.

A cold, hard truth even in the face of the great opportunities lying beneath their feet and up in the mountains around them. Harry's efforts to bring about this change were entirely reliant on the liberal use of his magic to make important endeavors possible. The creation of more cities was a must in order to concentrate labor that could then be further used for later projects. That alone only happened thanks to his gamble on using a large portion of the Stark coffers to mine the Northern mountains which got the ball rolling. Northern people were simple and straightforward, something that they were famous for in all of Westeros. Millennia of this lifestyle allowed them to survive the mini-ice ages but it also meant they were stagnant and uninspired.

Extensive use of Occlumency was required or he would have murdered several of his lords for their constant doubts and challenges. It was like pulling teeth anytime he wanted to help the North push past the hard times. It was all they knew so they preferred the known to the unknown. When he became more assured in his power-base, Harry swore to heavily punish certain nobles who gave him too much trouble. One would think he wasn't their liege with the feet dragging and open defiance he experienced. A very different world to his so problems were bound to happen. Didn't mean he was going to let them slide.

This was a medieval world he was born in, but not just any simple medieval world. Death had stopped by to warn him that there was obviously much more going on besides the usual stuff. That would be one of the few times he would ever see her again. Death gave him a stern talk about do-overs. This was his only one and only do-over because she was partially responsible for going overboard on Earth. So it was time to make his last run worth it before he kicked the bucket too.

Much like Earth, first impressions were incorrect, here too there lay a magical world hidden from sight. Although not as hidden, magic was wielded by few and there existed other gods here. All who held different agendas and were much more active than the ones on Earth. He met Artemis once, the rumors of her being a man-hater could not be more right. In fact, they were wrong on the account of not accurately stating just how much of a man-hater she was. She was also a man-hunter, but fortunately Harry was a wizard, otherwise his head would undoubtedly be part of her collection.

As it stood, Harry didn't have a very high bar for divinity. To be fair, that was the only encounter he ever had with them and even to this day, he wasn't sure if it was truly Artemis or some crazy man-hunting witch.

Harry felt their snooping in the North several times. Too bad for them, Harry was no hatchling and could easily hide himself while his body's magical maturation progressed, also known as puberty.

"Lord Stark, a fine morning we find ourselves in." Turning around, his uncle Ned stood with his arms outstretched.

"How goes your morning, Uncle? I see Lady Catelyn is enjoying the fine comforts of Moat Cailin. I swear you've lost many grey hairs ever since you moved there." Ned laughed as he hugged his nephew, memories of his older brother ran wildly through his mind every time he looked at him.

"You speak the truth, Harry. Ever since you took over the North, I've lost many grey hairs, but I think I'm starting to see a few on your head now." Harry watched his Uncle laugh with an indulging smile, it used to be a rare sight to see Ned Stark in such a good mood. Much less open laughter and with a bag of jokes no less.

Seems all his uncle needed was to fuck off to a good keep and pop out more kids that he could raise without the weight of the North on his back. Harry swore Ned almost leaped out of the solar's balcony after appointing him Warden of the North. Even before then, Harry was already making many moves with his uncle's approval ever since he was ten years old or name-days.

At first his uncle was skeptical but willing to humor his nephew's words, the result was what everyone saw here today. The bustling city of Winterfell, no longer was it the name of the castle but the entire city as a whole. It was a hard task, but Harry had plenty of experience helping humans rebuild civilization from the lowest of pits. A little help from his magic here and there made everything go much faster.

Unlike last time, these humans had a better headstart and a bigger population. As far as he could tell, they were much more interesting like the massive ice wall just further north. Yes, this place was shaping up to be quite the entertaining place. The world was vast and Harry still had much to see like Essos, Sothoryos, Ulthos, the Summer Isles, and hell, even the rest of Westeros.

Some of these places weren't fully explored and that went for the entire world too. It was theorized by the Maesters that there might be more land masses out there. Like further out into the Sunset Sea where his ancestor Brandon the Shipwright might have died exploring, but who knows, he might have found a new home there. Harry swore to finish exploring it if it was the last thing he did. Back on Earth, a famous saying resonated deeply with him even more so now. Born too late to explore the world but too early to explore space.

Grabbing a scroll, Harry read through his plans for the day that would one day allow him to fully explore and conquer the world. Death didn't place any rules like there were back on Earth so Harry took that as a pass to do as he liked. The construction of the first guild was in progress, the Builder's guild.

Harry couldn't leave the North at this critical stage, they needed his guidance or easy mistakes could cause it all to fall apart. The North had never seen so much trade as it did now, and the construction of sensitive infrastructure needed his oversight. Not to speak of the spies he needed to personally keep an eye on and watch out for the many infiltrators.

In this year alone, he caught a total of three hundred something spies and saboteurs. All coming from places all over Westeros and even from Essos. A fourth belonged to the Tyrells, another portion to the Lannisters, and the rest came from Kingslanding. King Rhaegar didn't seem too pleased with the northern success, the man was as dangerous as they came.

Harry did not yet have the pleasure of meeting the Targaryen king without a dragon, but he did have a box full of summons from the Red Keep. Unfortunately the kingsroad was rather dangerous and the messages never reached him… oh well, if the King wanted to come brave the dangerous roads of his kingdom then he was very much welcomed.

Harry thought of the many excuses he would say if it ever happened. 'My King, those damn Freys, you know how they are. So which beautiful Targaryen sister did you have to give up in order to come through?' If push came to shove, then Harry would make sure to teach him a lesson.

"I can never get used to seeing this, I fear I'm dreaming at times." Ned says to him in a soft voice. "A proper city outside of Winterfell, we were lucky if even a quarter of them survived during winter. Now, you see towns all over the place, last I saw the Mormonts had one too. The Umbers… the bloody Bear Island of all places." Harry could see Ned's raw emotions, a little touching but the man had no idea what was to come.

"Uncle, if this has you near tears… I can't imagine what will happen when you see my visions come true." Harry patted him on the back.

"I believe you. Moat Caitin has chased away all remaining doubt I may have had. The old ruins, now a majestic fort spanning far larger than I ever imagined possible. I hear the King has been calling for you?" Ned gave him a side eye, analyzing every inch of his face.

"Are you ready for this talk?" Harry asked him, making eye contact, watching his surface thoughts. Ned took a deep breath and waved him on.

"We're not going to stick around with the whole warden thing. With me here, the North is destined for something more than being Targaryen lap dogs or servants whatever you want to call it." His Uncle's surface thoughts were a mix of panic and fear. He felt annoyed at his uncle's whipped mentality. 'Where is this inner wolf, Starks are said to possess?'

"You certainly take after your grandfather, Rickard. He held this same look in his eye when he spoke of grand plans and the future. Sometimes I think he's returned to the living in the body of his grandson."

Harry laughed at the unintentional half-truth. "Remember, Uncle. I could do this with or without you. It would be a whole lot faster with you backing me up. I did give you Moat Cailin for a reason." Harry meant every word. He wasn't going to abort and abandon his ambitions on the opinion of one man.

Ned shook his head, his face full of mirth. "I cannot deny your genorosity. I suppose it would now be my turn to hold up the end of the bargain, huh?"

Harry didn't confirm or deny the implication. "You always were good at planning for the long journey. Just how long have you been scheming?" Ned asked him.

"Scheming? Well when you put it that way I can't help but feel offended. Who do you take me for?" They stared at each other in silence but it didn't last long before their serious looks dissolved into laughter.

"Quite some time ago, but most of it came together when I found out about the enormous amount of gold found in the northern mountains. Some didn't have gold but they did have an abundant amount of other good, precious metals. Maybe I might go for the frostfangs too, the North will never know another day of hunger or poverty."

Ned didn't stay silent for long. "How much? I've heard many great tales from the Umbers and Glovers. But I don't want tales, I want the truth."

Harry made a gesture with hands, in the form of counting coins. "More than you can even imagine if this view amazes you. This is why I'm telling you to wait. The Targaryens' days of making Starks bend the knee were over the day I was born." Harry didn't need legilimency to know Ned's doubts continued to weigh heavily on his mind.

Not that he could blame his uncle; centuries of tradition were not so easily undone in the blink of an eye. The status quo was far older than Ned or Harry and to think it would crumble in less than a decade? Harry held the suspicion that if Ned hadn't gone through a failed rebellion in his lifetime, this conversation would have been going in a different direction or not at all.

The rebellion was hard but it did much to help Ned realize that the Targaryens could be defeated. After all, even if Robert died at Rhaegar's hand, the rebellion was one great house away from victory. Targaryen exceptionalism was almost completely shattered and Rhaegar treaded carefully ever since as he slowly rebuilt his house. Besides, Harry's rise wasn't convenient to the Targaryens, no, it was detrimental in many ways.

Harry faced made up taxes solely for his lands, and that was only the tip of the iceberg. Rhaegar believed because he didn't have a stake in the south or anyone at court, they could say or do as they pleased and he would take it lying down. His frustrations mounted with every day that passed and with every message he received.

"Look, I don't agree with every decision that's been made…but" Ned finally allowed his doubts and fears out into the open.

"Did they neuter you in Kingslanding, Uncle? If revenge isn't something you can stomach then at the very least we would be free. How long has the North been under Targaryen rule and what good has come of it? Our loyalty has never been rewarded, we have died in meaningless southern conflicts, anytime one of us goes south we meet our untimely end, and they lie to our faces because we are northerners. We remain helpless to the winters and our suffering is used for profit. They think us stupid, unambitious, and their loyal dogs. Ask yourself if the Lannisters or Tyrells are subjected to this treachery."

"You are talking treason, Harry." Ned's conflicted mind raced with ways to placate him.

"I'm talking common sense, a blessing that appears to be something only I possess. If we're smart, we take advantage of this chance and cut off the dead weight. We don't need them, we never have. It has always been us who endured through winter without help, it was us alone who repelled the iron born from our lands, and the ones who regularly deal with the wildlings." Harry's face was locked in a scowl and red with anger. His Uncle appeared flustered and fearful but in his eyes Harry could see there was something more.

"What are you planning now? Harry, think about our people, a war with the South could very well see everything you've accomplished undone." Ned found his courage and his words had some bite in them now.

"The southerners are right about you but thankfully not about me. Everything I've accomplished will become undone if I allow them to walk all over us. I've told you of what has been asked of me by the white haired cunt with a crown, everyday is a test and he wants to know how far he can push this. Yesterday it was only curious scrutiny with empty praise, today it is outright extortion, and tomorrow it will be my head. The King doesn't want us to become powerful or rich, he prefers for us to remain as we always have. Just like you."

Ned wasn't done yet. "War isn't something you've experienced, it is a most terrible thing. If what you are planning comes to fruition, then it shall be you leading the northern armies. The odds you face are crushing, is that something you can stomach? Death, famine, low morale, and defeats? I've received my fill of all this and I can tell you it was never satisfying or glorious."

Ned felt bothered by the knowing look in Harry's eyes. "Death is an old friend, but don't trouble yourself with open rebellion just yet, Uncle. Like I mentioned previously, an opportunity has appeared in the form of our restless neighbors. I plan to let everything play out before I deal my hand." Ned felt relief and welcomed the pause in talks of open rebellion.

"The wildlings? They are a dangerous and savage kind who know no laws but those of the old gods." Ned explained with concern.

Harry shook his head. "Worry not uncle, I don't plan to deal with them either. I meant someone else entirely, the wildlings are more trouble than they are worth." Ned fell into deep thought but couldn't think of who these neighbors were.

Harry appraised his Uncle through lidded eyes. "Nothing? Then you will just have to wait for the news to learn of what I mean. Perhaps I might even lend these friends a hand. With our newly found wealth, we face an ever present threat from the South. You may be content with the ways things are now but they aren't and neither am I."

Ned's grip on the status quo loosened with every word that came out of his mouth. "You are almost as bad as Uncle Benjen. Have a little more faith in me." The wind picked up around both of them, as if a blizzard magically formed upon the balcony they stood on. The icy wind and snow blocked his vision and Ned reached for Harry fearing that he'd be swept away.

As quick as it came, the snow and wind abruptly faded away. Ned twisted his head in every direction, he quickly realized they were no longer on the solar's balcony. Rather, it was a hill he recognized—one close to the Kingsroad, where guards on patrol often stopped to keep watch for any disturbances. "Harry, are you ok?"

Shooing his hands away, Harry brushed some snow off his clothing. "Look around, Uncle. Tell me what you see." Ned stopped panicking and looked at his nephew as if he were crazy.

"We were just taken away, by… by sorcery. Winterfell could be under attack, our family could be in danger!" Ned drew his sword and ran towards the city.

"You wound me, Uncle. It pains me to know you'd ever entertain such a hurtful thought." Ned stopped in his tracks and turned to him. "What do you mean? Did you do this?"

"Well, of course I did. Don't you think I'd be a little more scared if it weren't the case? Believe me, I'd be terrified if someone managed to take me away so casually against my will." Ned stood there wide-eyed, not sheathing his sword though.

"You can use magic?" Ned asked with no small amount of confusion and awe.

"Well, yes. I can't think of any other way someone could pull this off without magic." Harry said with a grin. "Believe it or not, we actually haven't left the castle or the solar."

Ned slowly observed his surroundings but didn't know what his nephew meant. "Yes, we have.." Taking a closer look at the city now, the walls and gates of the city were towering. There was a continuous stream of people at the city gates now, waiting to be let in. Merchants, families, entertainers, and all sorts of other professions wanting to come in.

"I've taken you into an illusion, a very powerful one so let's be quick. I don't yet have the strength to keep it up for long. So please, don't linger and let's go." Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and hurried him along.

As the guards inspected identifications, neither they nor the people around them gave a second look, eyes fixed forward as if the duo wasn't even there. Walking in, the streets flourished in all directions, signs on the streets pointed to different districts each holding their own purpose. Walking through their bodies, Ned felt a cold sensation well up in his chest each time he did so.

Remembering these people aren't real but rather illusions, Ned couldn't help but wonder why they felt cold. The surroundings blurred by, the sensation familiar to when he first entered the illusion. "By the old gods and the new, what in the seven hells is all this?" He caught moving figures in the sky and a giant moving structure arriving into a building, but the illusion began to wither with each passing second.

Next to him, Ned could hear Harry groan in pain. Ned held him with a worried look, looking him over for anything. "I'm okay, I pushed myself quite a bit to do that. A good night of rest and I'll be fine." The illusion sustained for a few moments before it sputtered out completely. As Harry had said, they never did leave the castle but it all felt so real to Ned.

"Then let's get you to bed, like the old times. Remember? I couldn't pull you out of the library even if I brought ten men with me. Maester Luwin marveled at your genius, holding the wisdom and intellect of several learned men. I knew then it was a sign from the gods, a sign that a change was coming. I just didn't know how big or ambitious…"

"Ambitious, intelligent, wise, strong, and powerful. Help me up, I need to head out for the mountains tomorrow." The mountain clans were primitive and didn't interact much with anyone. Life was extreme in those places, even with charms, Harry couldn't see himself living there for long. Bleak, boring, dull, and dangerous compared to the mildly warmer regions found in lower altitudes. It could never be said they weren't useless. In exchange for supplies, Harry enlisted them as miners or guides for other workers since they knew the mountains best.

"I told you to let me come, the clans know and respect me. You wouldn't be having such a hard time if you sent me instead. Do you not trust me, nephew?" Thankfully his bed wasn't too far away and soon he was plopped down on his bed.

With a mental pat on the back for that decision, he answered his uncle. "In the entire North, you are the one who I trust the most. You may find me giving others more important tasks but that doesn't mean I trust them more than you. Merely that they are best equipped or that I may see some benefit in selecting them. The northern clans need to know that I am their ruler and not Ned Stark. They would become unruly if they found out I was sending you. They might even think me afraid of them."

"Wise beyond your years. The North is in good hands, perhaps even the best. I will hold Moat Cailin for you, don't forget your Uncle." Harry waved his worries away. Ned was feeling the high that he hoped would last through the dark days ahead.

"How could I? You are family and there's nothing more important. Besides, I'd be a fool to forget the fortress of Moat Cailin. I fear we may be needing it further down the line." Seeing his uncle's alarmed reaction, he jumped to reassure him. "Not right now, but further down the line like I said. I give us a few more years of peace, tense but peace nonetheless."

"Our people are living better than they ever have before. Know you can count on us when the time comes. This is the least we could do to repay your hard work." Harry reminisced on the hard times, but although bitter, everything was for the best. Ned's words resonated within him, Northerners were notoriously tough people.

"I know Uncle, I just hope I don't disappoint everyone." With that, Ned was finally on board. Harry talked with his uncle for a while longer before he finally departed. He wanted to know more of his magic and how they should go about revealing it to the rest of Westeros.

Resting on his bed, Harry took the moment to check up on the world of greenseers. At first, he encountered a bit of a learning curve but like many other fields of magic, Harry's vast experience enabled him to figure out how to see with the third eye. Thanks to the prophecy which dominated a good portion of his life back on Earth, Harry made many attempts to master divination.

A powerful field and no one could ever deny it. Fate was a tricky subject and the glimpses it offered were often a double edged sword. The fear and hope lead many astray, either through a futile attempt to avoid fate or to ensure it. The future wasn't the only aspect of divination, it could also be used to 'divine' the truth regarding people, objects, or phenomena which was where 'seeing the future' comes from.

After dealing with all that nonsense, Harry made sure to use cloaking spells and other means to hide himself from attempts to scry his business. Wizards were notoriously nosy and somewhat clueless to boundaries especially when it came to renowned figures. Even in this new world, it would seem the circumstances were much the same.

The odd three-eyed crow to the north, the bald man with his candle down south, the fiery red haired woman to the east, and numerous others who spent days attempting to see into his life. If he didn't have Death's cloak then his spells would have long ago buckled under their combined effort. Harry wasn't in his prime and his core was continuously developing in this new wretched body he found himself in.

The shroud of death was ever-present and unseen so therefore so was he. The death stick helped pierce the veil the three-eyed crow had placed over his eyes, the same one that stopped past Starks from utilizing their greensight abilities.

Unfortunately for the old crow, Harry held true magic within his soul and blood that wasn't reliant on anything but himself. That being said, the old crow was not someone Harry would ever lower his guard around. He might be safe from his machinations for now, the same could not be said for those around him.

The resurrection stone was a vital part of his revolution in the North. While Harry was a genius in the magical arts, he was no muggle inventor or science expert. This didn't matter when he could just call upon the dead of his world to teach him how to do it. The Northern mountains were a major boon for the Starks but these inventions were a miracle for the entire north.

The Lannisters mined massive amounts of gold yet they didn't stand above all the Great Houses. They found rivals in other houses like the Tyrells or Martells when it came to many things. Gold was only part of it and Tywin Lannister understood this. He leveraged his gold to bring power and influence to his house. A fool like Mace Tyrell or Aerys Targaryen could never do a fraction of what Tywin had accomplished even if they held the same resources. Tytos Lannister held the same wealth yet his House didn't hold a twentieth of the power it holds now.

He might not know how to mass produce steel, create the finest colored glass, develop medicine, use the power of water to facilitate labor, or steam power, but the dead of his world did know how. They were also obligated to answer him as was his right. Some of the stuff he had in mind was perhaps too advanced but that was nothing magic couldn't fix. Although modern technology couldn't interact well with magic, this little tidbit wasn't true for older technology.

Oh, the energy requirements are too low or this piece needs precise instruments to fabricate? Well, Harry could conjure it or meet most requirements with magic. Harry did always lament the division that occurred between muggles and wizards in the middle ages. Had they united, even the sky wouldn't have been the limit. Perhaps things could be different here?