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.
Happy National Do a Grouch a Favor Day. I'm sure we all know someone who might be classified as a little bit of a grouch and maybe by doing something that will make them a little less of a grouch. Haha I' sorry it was alittle hard to find a fun National day for today but I guess it was also Valentine's Day two days ago and National Singles Awareness Day so there is that. Happy February everyone!
Anyone who is looking to provide support and get access to early chapters for my stories or see my original content, please visit Pa T-rEoN / FavoriteAuthor
On that note, a big thanks to my newest patrons – Andrew R., AJ M., Bobo B., Will T., Drew C., Ujjwal K., Ben S., Brian S., Mitch J., Michael J., Luke M., The_Witch3r, Vocey5, Paraskevas P., Chris G., Dan G., Philicia P., Maksym B., Mitch J., Tyler G., Divya D., Luke M., Barret O., Itsaboytrav, Chris G., Adam G., Daryn B., Dark Killer, Kiran S., Bache F., Ray G., Brian B., Jayden A., Jim W., R2DToa, John B., Philip J. Music, Shae S., Matthew W., Will D., Brian S., Abel, Leighton A., Speedy, Masterkey1887, Fraser M., Ups 442, Pealtiv, Huge L., Hadrian K., Witherdale, ImPiggy, Kyle U., Aaron, Hari T. Reece H., and Peter A! I do not know if I would be as motivated without the support.
This story is dedicated to Tara T, for her support.
Harry woke the next morning with a start, the weight of unease pressing heavily on his chest. He had barely slept, his thoughts refusing to stop after the brief, tense experience from the previous night. Someone had seen him practicing magic. He didn't know who it was, but the implication was enough to set his nerves on edge.
Harry sat up in bed, raking a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the unease that clung to him. The pale light of dawn filtering through the open windows did little to soothe his nerves. The room felt cool, the air thick despite the heat that always seemed to linger in the Red Keep's stone walls.
Every creak of the wooden floor, every distant murmur that filtered under his door from the corridors outside his room made Harry's heart leap. Who had seen him? How much had they seen? Were they going to expose him? Were they already telling someone? Just what were they going to do with that knowledge? His thoughts spiraled until he heard a sudden knock at the door. He nearly jumped out of bed, clutching his wand beneath the blanket, before forcing himself to take a steadying breath.
His heart raced as he stared at the door, half-expecting someone to burst in and demand answers. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to stand and approach the door, his wand clutched tightly behind his back.
"Who is it?" he called, his voice a little higher-pitched than he'd have liked.
"It's me!" Arya's cheerful voice answered. "Are you still sleeping, lazybones?"
Harry exhaled a long breath, feeling a wave of relief. He tucked his wand into his cloak and padded to the door, opening it to find Arya grinning at him, her dark hair messy and her energy seemingly boundless.
"Morning, sleepyhead!" she chirped.
Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relaxing slightly. "Morning, Arya." His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat.
Arya tilted her head, giving him a curious look. "And I thought Sansa looked bad first thing in the morning … you look like you've seen a ghost."
"Didn't sleep well," Harry muttered quickly, forcing a smile. "What's got you so cheerful this early?"
"Syrio's training," Arya said. "But first, we have to go to breakfast, I could smell it from my room. Come on, before Sansa eats all the bacon."
Harry hesitated, but Arya grabbed his arm and started pulling him along. He didn't have the heart to resist her enthusiasm, even though every fiber of his being wanted to stay hidden in his room and avoid anyone who might confront him about the magic. Therefore after nodding he quickly got dressed before rejoining her in the hallway. He allowed Arya to drag him down the corridor, trying to push his paranoia to the back of his mind. As the walked, her chatter filled the silence as they walked through the corridors, her excitement over her upcoming lesson with Syrio Forel spilling out in a stream of words. Harry responded when he could, but his mind remained preoccupied, scanning their surroundings as if expecting someone to jump out from a corner to try and apprehend him at every turn.
When they reached the hall they were having breakfast, the warmth of the hearth and the clatter of dishes greeted them. Ned Stark and Sansa were already seated, along with a few of Ned Stark's men who were already in deep in discussion with Ned. Harry hesitated at the entrance, his anxiety flaring anew.
Arya tugged at his sleeve, dragging him toward the table. "Come on, sit with me!"
Reluctantly, Harry joined her, sliding onto the bench beside her as a servant placed a plate of food in front of him. However, he found that he was barely able to touch it, his appetite dulled by the knot in his stomach.
Lord Stark glanced at him briefly, his piercing gaze seeming to see right through Harry. "You look … unwell, Harry," he said, his tone calm but probing.
"I'm fine, my lord," Harry lied, managing a weak smile. "Just didn't sleep well."
Ned nodded, though his expression remained thoughtful. Harry ducked his head, focusing on the bread and porridge in front of him.
Arya elbowed him, jolting him out of his thoughts. "You're awfully quiet today. Are you sure you're not sick?"
"Just feeling a bit off," Harry admitted, giving her a weak smile. "Maybe I'll feel better with some fresh air after the meal."
Arya studied him for a moment, her sharp gray eyes narrowing slightly, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she launched into a story about something Syrio had taught her the day before, miming sword moves with her knife. Harry nodded along, grateful for the distraction, even as his mind continued to churn.
When breakfast was over, Arya turned to him expectantly. "Come on, we've got to get ready for lessons today. Syrio's going to show us something new, I can tell."
Harry hesitated, the words already forming in his mind. "I … I think I'll pass today," he said, trying to sound casual. "I'd probably just be a distraction."
Arya looked disappointed but nodded. "Alright. But you're missing out. You better be there tomorrow."
"Of course," Harry said forcing a smile, watching as she bounded off, her energy undiminished.
Left alone, Harry wandered the halls of King's Landing, trying to clear his mind. The castle was alive with activity as usual—servants bustling about, the clang of steel ringing from the training yard, the usual din Harry had begun to grow accustomed to.
He wasn't sure how long he wandered aimlessly around the castle, his thoughts a chaotic mess. The knowledge that someone had seen him was a constant, gnawing presence in the back of his mind. He couldn't stop replaying the moment, analyzing every detail.
Who could it have been? A guard? A servant? Someone he hadn't even noticed? And why hadn't they confronted him directly? The possibilities were endless, each more unsettling than the last.
- HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP -
Eventually he found that he had unknowingly wandered into the garden. Surprised he shrugged before heading over to the weirwood trees, seeking the solace they always seemed to provide the Starks.
Harry sat cross-legged on the grass, and leaned against the tree, taking a deep breath and letting the garden's earthy scent fill his lungs. For a moment, he closed his eyes, focusing on the gentle breeze brushing against his face. The tension in his chest eased slightly, but the unease lingered, coiling like a serpent in his stomach. As every sideways glance, every hushed conversation seemed to be directed at him and carry a hidden meaning.
After a while, Harry sighed and rose to his feet. The garden, for all its beauty, couldn't quiet his restless mind. He dusted himself off and made his way back towards his room. The halls were busy with servants and attendants. He turned a corner and nearly ran headfirst into Eddard Stark.
"Ah, Harry," Ned said with a faint smile, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. "I was just looking for you."
Harry gave him a sheepish grin along with a polite nod. "Sorry about that, my lord. I wasn't paying attention."
"No harm done," Ned said. "I wanted to remind you about the feast tonight. The official welcoming feast for the new Hand of the King. I'm expecting you to attend."
Harry blinked in confusion. "The feast? I thought we'd already feasted every night since we arrived."
Ned's lips twitched in amusement as he dhook his head. "Apparently, those were merely 'pre-celebration feasts.' Not grand enough to mark the official welcome of the new Hand of the King."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It seems like the realm has a very liberal definition of celebration. No wonder they're losing gold left and right."
Ned nodded, his expression growing more serious. "Exactly. The treasury is bleeding coin, but that doesn't seem to bother the court. And if I can't escape this wasteful celebration and since the realm is hell-bent on wasting its gold, there's no way you're getting out of this one."
Harry tried to protest. "I'm not exactly the Hand of the King. Surely no one would notice if I didn't attend."
Ned gave him a stern look, though his tone remained light. "If I must endure it, so must you. Besides, you'll be good company at the table for my daughters. Besides," he added, his lips twitching into a faint smile, "who knows what Arya could get up to if left unsupervised?"
Harry laughed despite himself. "Fair point. All right, fine. You've convinced me. I'll go. But it's nice to know that if I'm going to suffer, at least I'll have some entertainment."
"That's the spirit," Ned said with a rare grin. "Go on, get yourself ready. It won't do to show up looking like you just stepped off the Kingsroad."
As Ned walked away, Harry sighed and continued down the corridor. The prospect of the feast filled him with a mix of dread and resignation. He wasn't in the mood for crowded halls, boisterous laughter, and rich foods, but it was clear he didn't have a choice.
After reaching his room, he grabbed the necessary supplies and headed toward the baths, his mind already turning to the daunting task of navigating the evening's social intricacies.
The Red Keep's bathing chambers were surprisingly spacious, with large stone tubs that could be filled with hot water that was kept heated over fires at the end of the room. Harry was grateful to find the chamber empty when he arrived. He filled a tub and sank into the steaming water, letting it ease the tension in his muscles. For a while, he simply sat there, his head tilted back and his eyes closed.
The bath did more to calm his nerves than the garden had. By the time he stepped out and dried off, he felt significantly better, although the anxiety still lingered at the edges of his mind.
After returning to his room, Harry took a brief nap before waking and starting to get ready for the evening. Harry dressed in the best clothes he had—a dark green tunic and brown trousers. They were plain compared to the finery he knew most of the court would wear, but they were clean and neat. He strapped the wand holster he had made securely to his forearm, making sure it was hidden beneath his sleeve. No matter what, he wasn't going anywhere without his wand.
As he adjusted his clothes in the small mirror, Harry caught his own reflection and frowned.
"Get it together, Harry," he muttered to himself. "It's just a feast. You'll survive."
- HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP -
The grand hall of the Red Keep was a spectacle Harry hadn't anticipated. Though the previous feasts in King's Landing had been lavish by Winterfell's standards, this one outshone them all. Golden candelabras lined the tables, their flames flickering against polished silver platters overflowing with exotic dishes—fruits and meats Harry couldn't name. The rich scent of roasted venison, spiced wine, and honeyed pastries filled the air, mingling with the sound of a dozen musicians playing lively tunes from a raised dais at the far end of the room.
Despite the unease still clinging to him from the previous night, Harry found himself enjoying the evening more than he'd expected. Despite not sitting at the head table, due to being a personal guest of Eddard Stark he had been seated at a prominent table just below the head table, alongside Arya and Sansa, as well as Prince Tommen, Princess Myrcella, and a handful of other notable figures whose names Harry struggled to keep straight.
Arya, seated beside him, alternated between snatching bites of food and telling Harry about her morning "dancing lesson". Across the table, Sansa appeared every bit the composed lady, though Harry could tell she was carefully watching Prince Joffrey, who had been allowed a seat at the head table alongside his father.
Harry hadn't expected to be introduced to so many people that evening, but the evening's purpose as a formal welcoming feast for Ned Stark meant that introductions were apparently unavoidable. First, there was Varys, the Master of Whisperers, whose soft voice and knowing gaze left Harry both intrigued and wary.
"Ah, young Harry," Varys said, his smooth tone laced with curiosity as he made his way to their table, seeming more interested in talking to Harry than Sansa or Arya. "A ward of Winterfell, I hear. How interesting that Lord Stark would bring you all the way to King's Landing."
Harry kept his response deliberately vague, offering a polite smile. "Lord Stark has been very kind to me. And of course I was grateful for the opportunity to see the capital."
Varys's expression didn't waver, though his gaze lingered a moment too long for Harry's comfort. "Indeed. The capital has much to offer—though not all of it is worth finding." With that cryptic comment, Varys moved on, leaving Harry with the unsettling feeling that the man knew more than he let on.
Later in the evening, the Master of Coin approached their table. His presence was immediately noticeable, not just because of his sharp features and calculating smile, but because of the way he unconsciously focused his attention on Sansa.
"Lady Sansa," Baelish said smoothly, inclining his head. "You're every bit as beautiful as your mother. I consider it a lucky day to have had this opportunity to meet you."
Sansa blushed, murmuring a polite response, but Harry shivered at the way the man was staring at her. However, seemed unaware of the scrutiny as his smile didn't falter as he greeted Arya with a slightly less warm greeting before turning his attention to Harry.
"And you must be Lord Stark's newest ward. Harry, is it?"
"That's right," Harry replied, keeping his tone neutral. He couldn't shake the feeling that Baelish was sizing him up, as though he were some puzzle to be solved.
Baelish didn't linger long, excusing himself with the claim of needing to attend to "certain treasury matters." As he left, Harry thought he caught a flicker of something—perhaps a glare—directed at Ned Stark. It was brief, gone almost as soon as it appeared, but it left Harry uneasy.
The evening took another unexpected turn when Queen Cersei left the head table. Harry had assumed she would have left the hall, given the king's behavior towards every other serving girl, but instead she made her way to their table. Her expression calm and composed as she took a seat between her children, Myrcella and Tommen, and began conversing with them in low tones.
Harry tried not to stare, but he couldn't help being surprised when Cersei eventually turned her attention to him. Up until that moment, she had barely acknowledged his presence since their first meeting in Winterfell.
"So, Harry, wasn't it," she said, her sharp green eyes fixed on him, "how are you finding life in the Red Keep?"
Harry hesitated for only a moment before answering. "It's ... different from what I'm used to. Certainly, a lot busier than Winterfell."
Cersei arched a brow, her lips curving into a faint smile. "I imagine so. Despite it's size, the North is a quiet place compared to the capital. But I've heard that you are not from Winterfell and Lord Stark brought you from even farther afield. Where exactly are you from?"
Harry forced himself to maintain a casual demeanor as he shrugged. "I'm not really sure," he said. "My parents died when I was young, and never really saw any maps growing up. But I must have been close enough to Winterfell to walk."
The queen studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "How curious," she said finally. "It's certainly an interesting story and it's not often that any lord, much less a Stark, honor a stray such as yourself so highly."
Harry couldn't tell whether there was an edge to her words or if he was imagining it. Before he could respond, Cersei turned her attention back to her children, and Harry exhaled quietly, grateful to be out of her focus.
Myrcella and Tommen, by contrast, were polite and pleasant company. Myrcella, in particular, seemed interested in Harry, though she asked her questions with a gentleness that put him at ease. Tommen, still young and earnest, seemed more fascinated by the idea of Winterfell than anything else.
Harry chuckled, grateful for the lighthearted conversation. It was a welcome distraction from the undercurrents of tension he'd felt throughout the evening.
As the feast continued, Harry couldn't help but marvel at the sheer extravagance of it all. Servants brought out course after course—roasted peacocks, honeyed ham, spiced wine—and the musicians played well into the night. For all the unease he felt, Harry had to admit that the Red Keep knew how to put on a show.
By the time the evening began to wind down, Harry felt both exhausted and relieved. He excused himself from the table and made his way back to his room, grateful to leave the noise and bustle behind.
As he closed the door behind him and leaned against it, Harry let out a long breath. The feast had been enjoyable in its own way, but Varys's probing, Cersei's curiosity, and even meeting Baelish still lingered in his mind.
- HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP - WW - HP -
The following evening, Harry sat on the floor of his room with his back on the wall, wand in hand, practicing a particularly tricky charm to levitate multiple objects at once. A chair sat in front of him prepared for him to use his magic on alongside a few books, a goblet, and a tarnished knife he'd picked up in the training room.
"Locomotor," Harry muttered, carefully guiding the objects to move in sync. They danced through the air in a slow, graceful arc, his wand directing them with precision. It was satisfying, a reprieve from the constant undercurrent of tension he felt in King's Landing.
Then he noticed something odd. The knife wasn't floating.
He frowned, lowering the other objects back to the ground. "Locomotor!" he commanded again, pointing directly at the knife. It didn't so much as twitch.
For a moment, Harry thought he might have fumbled the spell. He tried again, enunciating the incantation more clearly. Nothing happened. A sense of confusion crept over him. He switched to another spell—a simple one to make the object spin in place. The books, goblet, and even chair spun obediently, but the knife remained stubbornly still.
Harry set the other objects aside and picked up the knife, inspecting it. Its blade was darkened with grime, and its handle was wrapped in worn leather. At first glance, it looked like a standard, if poorly maintained, utility knife. He held it in his palm, testing its weight. There was nothing particularly unusual about it.
Curious, Harry decided to test it further. He set the knife on the ground and raised his wand again. "Incendio."
The small jet of flame left his wand and struck the knife—and vanished, absorbed into the blade like water into a sponge. Harry blinked, astonished. He tried again, using a simple knockback charm. Again, the magic seemed to just hit the knife and then disappear without a trace.
"This doesn't make any sense," Harry muttered, staring at the knife as though it might suddenly explain itself.
For the rest of the night, Harry continued experimenting. He tried every spell he could think of—charming, banishing, transfiguring—and every time, the result was the same. The knife was utterly resistant to magic, almost as if it absorbed it.
By the time dawn approached, Harry was more perplexed than ever. Exhausted but determined, he decided he couldn't keep this discovery to himself and he finally had something to talk about with Lord Stark.
In Ned Stark's solar, Harry carefully placed the knife on the desk between them. Before saying anything, he cast a silencing charm on the walls and the door—a habit he'd developed after the incident in his room.
Ned watched the spell with an arched brow but said nothing until Harry finished and had explained what he had done. "That's a very useful trick to have," he remarked, his tone neutral.
"Comes in handy," Harry replied, offering a faint smile. "I've found a lot of secret passageways in the Red Keep, and the walls can be … thin."
Ned nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "You were wise to take precautions. I suppose I need to be more cautious as well going forward with what I say. Now, what's this about?"
Harry gestured to the knife. "I found this a few days ago. At first, I thought it was just some old, grimy blade, but when I tried to use magic on it, nothing happened. It's like it's immune to my magic."
Ned leaned forward, picking up the knife with a curious frown. He turned it over in his hands, inspecting the blade and hilt. "It looks like a simple utility knife, but …" He rubbed his thumb against the grime on the blade, then paused, his eyes narrowing.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
Ned didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached for a small cloth and began carefully wiping the blade. With each pass, the grime gave way to reveal a dark, rippling sheen beneath—a pattern in the steel that seemed to shimmer like water in moonlight.
"This isn't a knife," Ned said finally, his voice low. "It's a dagger. And not just any dagger—this is Valyrian steel."
Harry's brows furrowed. "Valyrian steel?"
"It's rare," Ned explained, holding the blade up to the light. "Forged with methods lost to time, in the Freehold of Valyria before its Doom. Valyrian steel is lighter, sharper, and stronger than ordinary steel. It doesn't dull, and it's said to have other unique properties. Weapons like this are heirlooms, passed down through noble families. They're worth significantly more than their weight in gold."
Harry stared at the dagger, his curiosity growing. "But why is it resistant to magic?"
Ned shook his head. "I've never heard of Valyrian steel interacting with magic. Though most of the stories I heard about magic were children's tales. But Valyrian steel is said to have a certain ... properties, but I didn't give any credence to that beyond it being superior to normal steel."
For a long moment, the two of them sat in silence, both staring at the dagger as if it might reveal its secrets. Finally, Ned looked up at Harry.
"You found this," he said. "Do you want to keep it?"
Harry hesitated. The idea of owning something so valuable was intimidating, but he couldn't deny that he was fascinated by the dagger's properties. "If you don't think I'd get in trouble for having it … then yes, I'd like to keep it."
Ned nodded. "As long as you don't go around advertising what you found you shall be alright. But be careful with it. Weapons like this are rare enough to draw attention, and not all attention is good. Keep it close, and don't let others know about it."
"I will," Harry promised, his fingers brushing the hilt of the dagger.
Kind Regards,
FavoriteAuthor
If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it's the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.
Story Note 1 – The aftermath of someone seeing Harry sure seems to have left him a little rattled, although with a little bit of distraction he sure seems to be doing better.
Story Note 2 – Speaking of someone finding out about his magic … sure seems convenient that he just happened to run into Cersei, Varys, and Littlefinger … wonder if the individual in the walls reports to one of them … or was that person just a free agent and nothing will come of this … Any guesses as to who (if anyone) they report to and what is going to come of this?
Story Note 3 – And as for the Valyrian steel dagger! Obviously that is the big reveal for this chapter and will certainly have significant implications going forward. Obviously in canon there was no mention of the fact that Valyrian steel affected magic but as it was made with methods lost to time by people who had used magic (and also had a significant effect on beings of magic) I felt it wasn't too much of a stretch to have it behave differently than normal substances with Harry's magic. Looking forward to hearing your takes on the matter.
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.
Twitter: FavoriteAuthor_
Instagram: FavoriteAuthor_Fanfic
BioHazard82 - Thanks so much for the feedback and I hope you continue enjoying the story as it progresses!
NoxraaTogan - Omg that would be amazing ... I might need to message you to talk about that idea ...
LavenderTSWIFT - Well I guess we will see what comes out of the story although that reasoning is pretty solid.
6258489 - He only ever was shown using basic spells in canon. And the apparition is because he has not learned that yet. as for learning other spells and potions ... just wait ... haha
newboy - For the record I think that is a fantastic review! And I agree obviously magic is a large part of who Harry is (and will certainly have it's place in the story) but its not the only defining characteristic of his. As for Harry/Daenerys's relationship ... I guess we will see ...
Blaze1992 - Jon will be heading South I am sure there are some people down there who would like seeing him. Although when ... oops I mean if ... yes, if he returns North of the Wall he has started meeting some important individuals.
Monkey D Conan - Haha 100% thatis a good description of him. Glad I managed to capture that. any guesses what is in store for Jon 'You-Know-Nothing' Snow?
DirtyCat - I'd certainly imagine stuff are going to start happening. Ooo that would be cool although might need to see a dragon up close before his patronus changes
THEGREATSILVERWOLF1 - I update every Sunday (at least I have for months) and unless something happens the plan is to continue to do so. The dates are just jokes. Had been looking through a National Holiday Calendar and saw that everyday has at least a couple National Days. Obviously some are important but a bunch of them are just silly.
Fenrir070 - No worries I'm writing this and there has been a lot that I need to keep rechecking on! Ouch that is insane! Congrats to you! I can't even imagine. I do admit it took a little while to get things going but by the time the last chapter gets posted this will be a long story so in the grand scheme of things it is still early in the overall story but hope you continue to like the story!