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The Grind (Book 2) Ch.9
🕑 Added 2024-07-27 16:22:17 +0000 UTCTime passed after the arrival of the Caravan of the Cursed. Both less and more happened on a day-to-day basis in this new world. Each day saw progress, a constant build to something more, something to call our own. But they were mostly little steps. Stacking puzzle pieces that fit together to form a picturesque view.
We had a solid foundation to build upon. Hogwarts alone ensured that much. But with New Hogsmeade continuing to grow, we were never stagnant. We were much more than just Hogwarts now. We had a town to look after, in a way that Hogwarts had never truly had to do. The original Hogsmeade leaned heavily on Hogwarts but it was ultimately independent. The same couldn’t be said about New Hogsmeade and its Smallfolk who looked to us for leadership, protection, and prosperity.
A decently steady stream of people were migrating to our new town. Word spread quickly about a magical town and castle. With each person who heard the news, another three heard it from them. And with everything they heard, they traveled to New Hogsmeade out of curiosity or in search of a better life for themselves and the people they cared about.
Work was plentiful. There was always another job to be done. From the construction that wasn’t being done by magical means to the primitive industry and manufacturing that handled New Hogsmeade’s exports. So far, New Hogsmeade’s manufactured goods had been kept mundane. We were hesitant to trade away certain advantages and advancements, but arrangements were already in the works with Lord Manderly for things the North needed.
Sharing magical and enchanted goods was still under heavy internal debate. Some things — luxuries such as magical music boxes, Wizarding alcohol, and enchanted carriages/tents — would offer great profit for little detriment to Hogwarts. But they would take away a Wizard/Witch from our limited supply of manpower.
It was a similar trouble with other enchanted goods but there was also the issue of giving away our advantages. Brooms were immediately taken off the table, for obvious reasons. But we’d deemed storage trunks with expansion and preservation charms to be limited necessities for our new allies. Winter was harsh in a land that snowed even in summer. If we could prevent people from starving with a bit of negligible effort on our part, we’d do so.
Matches were an instant hit with the North. From correspondence with Lord Manderly and White Harbor’s position as the trading point of the North, they were also spreading down south and even to Essos. Portable fire in this time period couldn’t be dismissed easily at all. They were also easy to manufacture and something that only New Hogsmeade could offer.
The same could be said about clocks. They were a bit harder to manufacture, even for all the advantages we had. The process was simply more involved and required quite a bit of specialized education and training to pass on to the Smallfolk who would be working those proto-factories. They were also slower to catch on, requiring people to adjust to a new, numbered system of keeping time.
New Hogsmeade’s compasses were much more universal. Even in this world, there was a North, East, South, and West. And orienting oneself was essential when maps were so rare. So far, Lord Manderly was our biggest and only customer there. He wished to keep the marvelous invention to himself for now, fearing the advantage it would give other naval powers when his city and primary holding were located on the coast.
Other inventions and manufacturing methods were currently ‘in progress’. The Twins’ advancements in metallurgy and fine detailing were being kept to ourselves. The same could be said for our ideas and knowledge of glass-making. It was a well-guarded secret in this world, monopolized almost entirely by the city-state of Myr in Essos. Sharing what we knew would only invite trouble.
In all, Hogwarts and New Hogsmeade were busy, always busy. That didn’t even get into the construction that was happening around the town and castle. Neville — working under Professor McGonagall’s stern guidance — was raising the first wall Hogwarts had ever seen. More for public image than effectiveness. Still, it added one more line of defense before one got to (and stopped at) the castle’s wards.
Through it all, I didn’t really have anything to call my own. Septima had her research, Hermione had her pyramid of knowledge, and the others in the coven were similarly busy. Even Neville had his wall and swordplay and Sirius had his daughter with another baby soon on the way.
It was nice to see everyone’s efforts coming together but I was left feeling rather antsy. The same could be said for Heather, Fleur, and Daphne. It was something I knew we’d had to rectify soon. Of course, they had their own suggestions.
“I wish to spread the ‘ze good word of my god~!” Fleur declared.
“Kinda itching for a good fight,” Heather chuckled.
“Blaise wants to go south to Dorne to immerse himself in their politics and poisons,” Daphne said flatly. “We should do the same. Only not with Dorne. Everywhere. Become the public face of Hogwarts to this world.”
“How strange…” I narrowed my eyes at them suspiciously. “All of those suggestions seem to line up with each other rather well…”
“Do they? How lucky,” Daphne didn’t even flinch.
I sighed, “Personally, I want to investigate these ‘Maesters’ and the Citadel. Something about them doesn’t sit right… But I suppose I wouldn’t mind an adventure filled with your ideas too. Playing at politics and getting in scraps, that is. Not Fleur’s idea.”
“Ahh~!” Fleur swooned with her hand on her forehead before quickly springing back up. “Worry not! I do the good work and spread the good word of my divine beloved without being asked~!”
“That… could be useful,” Daphne considered. “Seduction is always a powerful tool. A political weapon. Especially against repressed noble Ladies… Even if you don’t seduce or conquer them, we can spread certain… ‘entertainment’ down south. A niche way to increase our influence but I imagine it’ll be startlingly effective.”
“You want me to seduce, cuckold, and essentially deal pornography throughout the Seven Kingdoms like Professor Sprout plans to deal her ‘herbs’?” As much as I tried to sound unamused and disinterested… I wasn’t very successful.
“Heh,” Heather snorted a giggle. “One Dick to Rule Them All…”
“Yes, très brillante~!” Fleur exclaimed. “No matter what history would have you believe, the Medieval Era was an age rife with lewdness and repressed promiscuity. And those poor, poor women~! Having to suffer oafish Lordly husbands and oppressive societal standards, oh~! Why, it is practically our duty to save them~! Let them learn the beauty of la petite mort magnique at your divine hands, my love~!”
“Oh, it’s our duty, is it? To steal away the sweetest maidens of the land and leave them pining after memories of hidden kisses, heated skin, and the union of flesh upon flesh~?” I smirked, egging Fleur on. “To seduce and ravish noble wives and widows~? To rip a Lady’s corset and lavish her supple body until she cries out and swears herself to me~? To conquer innocent medieval cunnies, quivering quims, and needy pussies~?”
“Yes, yes, YEEESS~!” Fleur practically panted, a dangerous and fiery look in her eyes. “O-Oh~… Atlas, my beloved~, my prince~, my god~! You mustn’t tease me so~…”
“Damn,” Heather stared at both me and Fleur. “Uh, okay, I may just be completely on board with this idea…”
Daphne nodded unflinchingly, “Historical smut hits differently.”
“We’ll table it and the details for now. It mostly sounds like a perfect way to make unnecessary enemies for little gain. The pornography idea does have merit though, I suppose,” I said, rolling my eyes slightly. “But no matter what, I do think an adventure down south is in the cards. It should be possible to satisfy all of our ideas.”
“Enemies at every turn and living vicariously through Atlas as he dicks down half of Westeros?” Heather grinned like a fox. “Sign me up!”
IIIII
About a month (moon, by this world’s terminology) after the Caravan of the Cursed arrived in New Hogsmeade, Hogwarts received an owl from White Harbor. The messenger birds were one of the first things we’d exchanged with our new allies. Hagrid knew well how to breed more and they were simply more efficient and effective than the native ravens. Impressive as the ravens were, they could only find places, not people directly.
The message attached said that Lord Stannis Baratheon had arrived in White Harbor. And it seemed that Lord Manderly wanted the King’s brother and his companions out of his city as soon as possible. It also warned of the woman with Lord Stannis: the Red Witch, who seemed to test even Lord Manderly’s hospitality. A few days later, we were welcoming the Lord of Dragonstone to Hogwarts.
The greeting party was kept small on our end. Just Dumbledore, myself, and Madam Pomfrey. From Dumbledore’s letters with Stannis, he was a man with little patience for unnecessary pomp. Even more so when he felt rather strongly about seeing his daughter healed. Stannis’ party consisted of himself, his daughter, a company of guards, and the agreed upon ‘payment’…
The Dragon Egg was easy enough to understand. It was a Dragon Egg. Petrified or not, that was enough said. I didn’t know what Dumbledore wanted Melisandre for though. The instant I laid eyes on her, I knew what I would want her for… but Dumbledore and I very much didn’t share the same tastes on that matter.
Melisandre was simply gorgeous, with a smoky, sultry charm about her that practically scorched the air. Hair like a curtain of fiery silk. Eyes that glowed like embers. A perfectly sculpted face and figure for seduction, tempting men to burn themselves upon her pyre.
Yet… there was something off about her appearance. A magic I couldn’t immediately place. As I squinted my metaphorical eyes, it came into view. A glamour. Upon seeing it, I consciously forced myself to see through it. And couldn’t contain my flinch.
Melisandre’s true appearance was one of age and decay. Unnaturally so. She should have died where she stood. A wrinkled old thing that labored and shuddered with each breath. Each breath seemed to draw life and strength from the magic in the air around Hogwarts as if burning it to restore herself, but it was hardly a far-along process at the moment. I couldn’t even identify her gender if I hadn’t seen the false seeming. I let the glamour fall back over the tortured, ancient woman. Some things were better left unseen.
“Albus…?” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth as the visiting party approached.
“I know,” He nodded somberly. “But we shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet…”
“Headmaster Dumbledore,” Stannis greeted, his voice curt and to the point. “I have come. As agreed. Will you hold up your end of the bargain?”
“Straight to the point, I see,” Dumbledore chuckled. “Not even Guest Rights? We’d happily host you here at Hogwarts, my Lord.”
“I do not wish to waste a single moment I don’t have to,” Stannis immediately cut into Dumbledore’s hospitality. “Heal my daughter Shireen. As we have agreed.”
He and Dumbledore stared each other down, neither man moving an inch. Even Dumbledore’s trademark twinkle was absent. The tension quickly proved to get the better of the company of guards with Stannis. They began to fidget and rest their hands on their swords. Thankfully, none drew without their Lord’s permission.
I didn’t let it affect me overly much. Just stood there and had a stare-down of my own with Melisandre. She met my gaze unflinchingly, her head held high and tall. Those ember-esque eyes of hers would have unsettled lesser men. She carried herself with, not arrogance but a sort of indifference toward the world around her. As if she was eternal and untouchable. If she truly was, such a thing hadn’t been kind to her from what I’d seen of her true appearance…
“Daddy, please…?” Stannis’ daughter — Shireen, a cute girl with half her face unfortunately scared by dead and scaled flesh — put on puppy-dog eyes to try and make her father behave.
Stannis showed his first hint of wavering. But still, he glared at Dumbledore. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes, abandoning decorum to comfort the little girl.
“Oh, come now, Sweet Thing. Let’s let the old men have their staring contest. Meanwhile, those of us with sense will see what can be done for you. Stand still for a moment, yes? This won’t hurt a bit.”
“You will not touch my daughter, wom-,” Stannis’ protest was unceremoniously cut off.
“Oh, shut it. Don’t interrupt a healer at work, son.”
Seemingly uncomprehending of the very idea of being interrupted, Stannis blinked and redoubled his glare at Dumbledore, “Bring your Lady to heel, Headmaster.”
“No. No, I don’t think I will,” Dumbledore chuckled. “Not in the least because even I have the good sense to be wary of Madam Pomfrey.”
“This is unacceptable,” Stannis glowered.
In contrast, Shireen giggled, “Eheheh~! That tickles!”
Madam Pomfrey had her wand out and was sending what I could tell were subtle tickling charms at Shireen. At the same time, she was casting diagnostic spells to identify Shireen’s ailment. The first elegantly took Shireen’s focus so Madam Pomfrey could accomplish the second. She was, after all, very good at what she did. And when the patient wasn’t Heather, she could exercise rather effective bedside manners.
“What a shame. Vicious little germs,” Madam Pomfrey clicked her tongue. “Are you in pain, Sweet Thing?”
Shireen shook her head with a little noise, “Nnn~!”
Madam Pomfrey nodded, “Good. That should mean it’s stopped spreading and gone dormant. It’ll make the next steps much easier on you, Sweet Thing.”
Stannis lost much of his hostility at that but not his intensity, “You can truly heal her?”
“Simple enough,” Madam Pomfrey nodded distractedly.
“Greyscale? Simple?” Stannis scoffed. “One could only wish…”
“They are charlatans and fools, my Prince, claiming only what you wish to hear…” Melisandre warned, speaking up for the first time to whisper poison in Stannis’ ear.
“Right, none of that now,” I said, shooting a silencing spell at her and not being very gentle about it.
Melisandre stumbled and turned to retort. Only to find, to her horror, that she couldn’t. My magic settled over her like a suffocating cloak. And in silence, the Red Witch began to panic. Stannis completely ignored his silently struggling companion and his company of guards dutifully looked away. With a quick sticking charm to keep her in place, we did the same.
“Thank you, Atlas,” Madam Pomfrey nodded to me before sharing a conspiratorial grin with Shireen. “I doubt she’d have anything productive to say anytime soon.”
Glancing at her father, Shireen leaned in to whisper to Madam Pomfrey, “She does frighten me so at times…”
She wasn’t nearly as subtle as she needed to be but Stannis simply sighed, admitting, “Aye, daughter, me as well. Your mother is the only one who seems to enjoy her company.”
Shireen gaped at him, “Father…?!”
“I blame Headmaster Dumbledore,” Stannis said, shooting a glare at Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes. “He is an infuriatingly bad influence. Propriety seems to utterly fall away around him.”
Madam Pomfrey laughed, much more amiable now that Stannis had shown a shred of humanity, “Trust me, you never get used to it. To him.”
“That is… upsetting,” Stannis frowned. “But not unexpected. Thankfully, you have been much more agreeable, Madam. I apologize if my ire spilled over onto you.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Madam Pomfrey tutted with a small smile. “I’ve dealt with my fair share of worried parents. Everyone deals with that tragic worry in different ways. Now, let’s see if we can’t put it to rest, yes?”
“You do not lie?” Stannis asked intently. “You can truly heal Shireen?”
Madam Pomfrey nodded, “I can. This ‘Greyscale’? It’s essentially magically active necrotizing fasciitis. While I’ve known nothing like it to be magical, it is fortunately dormant in Shireen. As such, anti-biotic spells should take care of everything that remains.”
“Necro-tizing… fas-itis…? The term is unfamiliar, Healer. But I will not pretend to be as learned as you in this regard,” Stannis said frankly but much more respectfully.
“Flesh-eating bacteria,” Madam Pomfrey ‘translated’ grimly. “I suppose you might know it as ‘miasma’. A very specialized and gruesome form of it. It eats the life out of the victim and leaves only dead flesh behind. The fact that a magical version of it exists is worrying but I’ll thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
Stannis’ grave expression could have put the dead to rest, “Greyscale is more of a menace than I could have ever known then.”
Shireen whimpered slightly, sinking in on herself. Madam Pomfrey gently and expertly soothed her, “Shh, Sweet Thing. You’ll be right as rain when I’m done with you. I promise.”
“And her scarring? The stone flesh?” Stannis asked.
“A Mandrake Draught, perhaps?” Dumbledore suggested.
“It’s not petrified flesh. It’s dead,” Madam Pomfrey shook her head. “A touch more tricky but a thorough excising and graft, and then a potion regime, should handle it. You won’t feel a thing, Sweet Thing. And when it’s over, your cheek will be as smooth and soft as a baby’s bottom.”
Stannis nodded firmly, “Make it so.”
While the healing process got underway, I walked over to Melisandre. She glared at me silently, by now understanding that nothing she could do would allow her to talk. She relied on my mercy there. So the gorgeously glamoured woman glared and waited for me to make the first move.
Standing just out of her reach, I lifted the silencing spell but not the sticking charm, “So what’s your deal?”
“I know not what you mean, foul sorcerer~!” Melisandre hissed.
“Not a sorcerer. Wizard,” I corrected. “And ‘I mean’, who are you? Why are you? Even how are you? And I’m not talking about your feelings with that last one.”
Melisandre drew herself up straight, tall enough to stare me directly in the eye, “I am Melisandre of Asshai. I have studied the mysteries of the world for years beyond count. Since before you were a gleam in your father’s eye, and his father before him. You would do wisely to not treat me with naivety…”
“I don’t doubt that,” I snorted. “You’re a mystic then? You know magic? Sorcery? If so, you’ll be in good company here at Hogwarts. Whether you are good company in turn still remains to be seen.”
“I practice only the miracles of the one true god,” She asserted. “For I am R’hllor’s most favored herald. The Lord of Light sees all. He burns all. We are one in his holy, cleansing flames. You and yours will be no different, no matter what foreign magicks sustain you.”
“Hm,” I hummed and changed tacts. “We’re not opposed to your religion, you know? You’ll still be allowed to practice your beliefs here at Hogwarts. Perhaps we could even teach and share with each other.”
A fanatical light ignited in Melisandre’s already glowing eyes, “You wish to convert?!”
“No,” I shut that down quick and hard. “I’m just saying we won’t persecute you for your chosen god. And that we might have more in common than you’d think.”
“Hmph, very well. For now…” Melisandre backed down slightly but that light still burned in her eyes. “Tell me, Wizard, what do you believe in?”
“Magic. I believe in Magic. With a capital ‘M’,” I answered firmly.
The conviction in my voice made her blink, “… I see. Perhaps you are right. We may just have some things in common, Wizard.”
“Call me Atlas.”
“Melisandre. If you please.”
“I would,” I nodded. “Now, the real pressing questions. Why? And how?”
“The ‘how’ is simple. R’hllor favors me. His Light sustains me. As for why…?” Melisandre’s expression and whole bearing intensified as she seemed to stare into my soul. “Why? Why?!”
I raised an almost impassive eyebrow, “Yes. Why?”
“A great evil approaches, Atlas…” She claimed, her voice soft yet heavy as stone. “The opposite of the R’hllor in every way. A Darkness to his Light. An icy chill that threatens to bring about a Long Night-…”
“Ah, I know what you’re talking about,” I nodded casually.
Melisandre faltered, her momentum interrupted with surprise, “You… You already know…?”
“Hogwarts has taken to studying the ‘gods’ here. Naturally, we know about your R’hllor and the opposite side of his proverbial coin,” I explained. “And I saw the Great Other with my own eyes. From afar, but I still can’t very well plead ignorance, can I? While, personally, I’m not a fan of either, the Great Other is certainly a threat looming over everyone’s head. It’ll be dealt with.”
“C-Can it be…? Azor Ahai reborn…? The Prince Who Was Promised…!” Melisandre exclaimed reverently, reaching out as if to touch my cheeks.
“The Raven said the same thing,” I chuckled. “I don’t see it. In fact, if it were true, I’d swallow my wand. I’m just a man who seems to have a knack for finding his way around prophecies.”
“But I have seen it in the flames… Yes! I thought Lord Stannis to be Azor Ahai but he was simply a stone in the road I must walk! I have seen it!” Melisandre quite literally burned, flames flickering across her skin that she didn’t seem to notice.
“You saw wrong,” I deadpanned.
“She is yours now,” Stannis said, interrupting our unbalanced conversation.
“You make it sound like slavery,” I noted.
“Hardly,” Stannis scoffed. “Slavery is an abomination. I merely do not need her services any longer and find that I won’t be able to stomach her company on the journey home.”
“Are you sure you won’t stay, Lord Stannis?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement at Stannis’ ‘reasoning’. “Why, I find myself missing your charms already!”
Stannis glared at Dumbledore. As he had for this entire meeting. He looked for all the world as if he would refuse. Then Shireen giggled at something Madam Pomfrey whispered and drew his gaze. He gave a clipped nod, “One night.”
“Wonderful,” Dumbledore smiled and motioned. “Walk and talk with me, my friend. And allow an old man to speak of his glory days. I knew a man like you. Once, I happily called him my partner. But his mindset proved too rigid. He would not bend or yield, not even to sense and reason, nor to friends or family.
“He pushed for his vision of what was just and right without thought or care for the consequences. As a result, he plunged a whole continent into war. And in the end, I had to put him down myself. Tell me, Lord Stannis… Would you repeat his mistakes?”
At first, Stannis tried his best to ignore Dumbledore. But the subject and Dumbledore’s veiled lesson quickly grabbed his attention. He adopted a contemplative look, his eyes darting to Shireen walking with Madam Pomfrey. I couldn’t help but feel that Dumbledore was exactly what the man needed to stop being such a stick-up-the-hard-ass.
With everyone walking back to the castle, I unstuck Melisandre. She practically scrambled to my side the moment she could move. Reverence and fanatical worship never left her eyes as she took up my arm. I suddenly felt an all-consuming need to groan and curse her god…
Fawkes flash-fired onto Dumbledore’s shoulder as we walked. Likely part of his intimidation/lesson for Stannis. Or perhaps a way to test the intentions of the powerful, stone-faced Brother of the King. Of course, the Phoenix’s appearance had the opposite effect on Melisandre, Priestess of the literally flaming god…
She fell to her knees in awe and devotion, bringing the procession to an abrupt halt, “An avatar! He has come! Azor Ahai is here! Speak your will and I shall follow, my Lord!”
At that, I did groan, “Dammit, Fawkes… Who do you think is going to have to deal with her after all of this?”
Fawkes trilled his wonderful, blessed song. Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore smiled. Shireen swooned. The company of guards made religious symbols with their hands, more in awe than to ward off any evil. Melisandre moaned as if she was trying to imitate Fleur and just about fainted. Even Stannis’ dour expression softened with uncharacteristic wonder. And through it all… I couldn’t help but feel that the damn bird was laughing at me.
IIIII
As he’d said, Stannis and his party stayed only one night. A more thoughtful and experienced man left Hogwarts though, both having seen magic and talked to Albus Fucking Dumbledore. Dumbledore did have that way about him. And while Stannis didn’t seem the type for superstition, seeing your only daughter healed of a fatal and scarring disease would challenge even the most prejudiced man’s beliefs.
Shireen herself was a sweetheart. It was no surprise when she took to Madam Pomfrey like a duck to water. She barely spent a moment out of the healer’s presence during her brief stay. But she also got along with some of the younger students, showing an understandable curiosity for magic and Wizardry. By the time she left, she was also changed, though the evidence was much more apparent with her face unscarred and an ever-present smile on her face.
The Dragon Egg payment went straight into Hagrid’s hands. If there was a way of hatching it, well, Hagrid had as good a chance as anyone, we figured. Already, he could be seen rambling about the differences he’d noticed between this world’s Dragon Eggs and Earth’s. It was still a long shot though, and Hagrid hadn’t seen any progress so far. For now, the egg stayed as cold and hard as stone.
Melisandre, on the other hand — the other form of ‘payment’ — had a bit more difficulty settling in. Everywhere she went, she asked after Fawkes. Which tracked. She saw him as a literal avatar of her flaming god. He wasn’t. But she wouldn’t be convinced otherwise.
She even went so far as to proclaim Fawkes himself as her vaunted ‘Azor Ahai’. Then Dumbledore, for his connection to the Phoenix. Then me again. Then Astoria when Melisandre saw her playing with fire in the corridors at random. That last ‘accusation’ stuck for longer than was comfortable. Something about Astoria’s cackling fire-gremlin energy… But thankfully for everyone’s sake, she did move on eventually.
Since arriving and settling at Hogwarts, Melisandre had worked her way through most of the Hogwarts population. And not in a way anyone could have expected. She handed out ‘Azor Ahai’ titles like they were going out of style. She honestly seemed confused throughout the whole process. It was almost pitiful or cute… if, you know, you ignored the fiery religious zeal.
Other than her ‘struggle’ to choose a prophesized hero, Melisandre had been rather useful. It turned out, Dumbledore wanted her as a sort of living reference material for the sorceries and divines of this world. Say what you would about the Red Priestess, she was very well-traveled, especially compared to the other (nonexistent) material Hogwarts had to work with.
She spoke of the glory of R’hllor, her Lord of Light, the most. To be expected. Getting a native — if biased — perspective on our findings was helpful. But she also waxed warnings about the Great Other, ranting and raving about the threat it posed to all warmth and life. Of course, we were told the origin story of Azor Ahai whether we wanted to learn or not…
In a story shared across several seemingly disparate cultures and civilizations, Azor Ahai (going by many different names) was the hero who drove back the original Long Night. He wielded a legendary sword named Lightbringer, forged and quenched by being plunged into the chest of his beloved wife Nissa Nissa. Metal as fuck origin story aside, there did seem to be something to Melisandre’s prophecy. Mostly in the ‘history repeats itself’ part. And with the Great Other stirring, the Long Night would come again. Only this time, Hogwarts introduced a plethora of foreign elements into play…
We got a more detailed and extensive history of the world from Melisandre as well. She spoke of an ancient empire at the dawn of time, whose last emperor helped bring about the original Long Night. She spoke of her origins in Asshai, a dead city plagued by shadows with an untold history that’d been lost to time. She even went into more detail about the Valyrian Empire and how it grew to conquer almost all of the known world. How nomadic sheep herders tamed Dragons, I’ll never comprehend…
She spoke of mysteries to be found across the world. Of oily black stone — potentially eldritch in origin — with connections to cults and ancient constructions older than man. Of legends and rumors of Deep Ones who stole humans away to breed and continue their inhuman legacy. Of the unnatural blood sorcery and cruel, magical crossbreeding and experiments of the Valyrians — “Perhaps they truly do have the blood of Dragons in their veins…” Melisandre said. Of Dragons, not only of air and fire but of ice and sea as well.
This truly was a terrifying world we found ourselves in. More importantly, it was storied. The First Men had existed at — at least — a Bronze Age technological level for more than 10,000 years. A fact that was absolutely insane when one stopped to think about it. Roughly twice as old as the Pyramids of Giza or Stonehenge. Human civilization on Planetos was likely even older than that.
Here, there were legends of legends. Empires that spanned the test of time and still fell. Ancient ruins that were long forgotten. Some that might not have even been built by human hands. And gods that, though not divine, couldn’t be denied. The magic of this world was primordial and raw, wild and untamed even now. From Melisandre’s knowledge, we’d barely even skipped the surface of what this world contained. Like a stone across an unfathomably deep pond with eldritch unknowns lurking in its depths.
And so Melisandre settled in at Hogwarts, offering invaluable experience and knowledge to make up for the teething pains. She was hardly given free roam of the castle. As we found out, she was a little too enthusiastic about her god, prophecy, and sorcerous sacrifice for our palate. I was assigned to watch her more often than I would have liked — and every time I did, I could swear I heard the damn bird laugh…
Another two months came and passed before we received word from White Harbor again. This time, with much more pomp and circumstance than Stannis’ characteristically terse manners. House Tyrell had arrived. And we were to expect them within the week.
When they arrived at New Hogsmeade, they came more as a caravan than a ‘mere traveling party’. After all, House Tyrell was a Great House. A Great House that ruled over the most prosperous of the Seven Kingdoms. I expected pride. I expected pageantry. I was not disappointed.
A small army came with House Tyrell. Likely just to show off and impose on us. A show of power. I imagined the protection offered honestly came second to that show. If we couldn’t or refused to house them all, we’d be shamed and immediately set on the back foot.
The supply train to supply the small army followed along behind. Horses and hairy oxen pulled wagon after wagon. It would have looked as if they were marching to war if not for the centerpiece of the caravan. Between all of the guards and men-at-arms, a house rolled along on wheels. A luxurious carriage the size of a small lorry. It was honestly impressive, especially for the technology of Westeros, and spoke of wealth to waste.
A suitable delegation from Hogwarts met our visitor. Myself, Fleur, Victor, Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall from the staff. A few of the student leaders who weren’t busy or were interested in playing politics — Cedric, Daphne, Blaise, Neville, and Susan. Then Sirius, Phoebe, Amelia, Cygnus, Ada, and Narcissa as well.
As the massive carriage rode up to the castle, Flitwick and I exchanged glances, rolling our eyes at the ostentatiousness of it all. Then he gave me a mischievous grin and made the tip of his wand spark and sparkle. I got the message. I got Sirius’ eye and signaled to him in the same way. He stifled a laugh as he got the plan too.
When the wheelhouse stopped and its guests began to disembark, they did so under fireworks. Brilliant explosions of magic that lit up the evening sky. A few guards moved for their weapons, but soon enough not a single one of them could do anything but stop and stare in awe. It must have been a thing of wonder, to see fireworks like that for the first time.
The Highborns stopped and stared upward just the same as their men. I took the chance to examine our most recent guests. A young man — handsome but not overly so — who leaned heavily on a cane with a wooden brace around a bad leg. A curious wonderous look crossed his face as he gazed up at the fireworks. As if he was putting a quick mind to work to discern how they worked.
A young woman — of age for this world but still rather young, around the same age as Astoria — who was easily as fetching as any of my girls. Songs would have been written about her beauty, even on modern-day Earth. Her face was soft, delicate, and regal, with a slightly upturned nose and naturally expressive, pouty lips. A crown of roses adorned her curling hair and an elegant, subtly luxurious dress hugged her slim figure.
There was certainly something to be said for the feminine fashion of this world, and she exemplified its every advantage. Handful-sized breasts swelled in their confinement. A slender waist pinched as if begging to be held. The flared hips and flowing bottom invited the mind to wander…
And finally, the littlest old lady I’d ever seen. She wasn’t nearly of a height with Flitwick but she certainly felt like it. Diminutive, weathered by age, and all the more fierce for it. Even as brilliant explosions went off over her head, the little old lady only watched them for a moment before turning sharp eyes back onto us.
As Sirius, Flitwick, and my fireworks petered off, the Highborns seemed to regain their wits. Well, the younger ones, at least. The little old lady had seemingly never lost them. Dumbledore and the staff — myself included — stepped forward to formally greet our guests.
“Welcome to Hogwarts!” Dumbledore said, smiling invitingly. “We greet you with open arms. We’ve seen so few of the nobles of this land. Each one feels special. But even then, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, Lady Olenna. Our correspondence over these past few months has been simply delightful.”
Olenna Tyrell gazed up at Dumbledore through slightly narrowed eyes for a few silently tense moments. Dumbledore’s smile never waned. His eyes twinkled, a telltale sign that he knew something that amused him. An entire unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them. Quips and jabs and insults and compliments, heard by no one but themselves.
Finally, Olenna broke the silent, clashing, proverbial blade lock, “… You’re much older than I thought you’d be.”
Her words and tone were carefully calculated in their bluntness. Dumbledore’s eyes practically lit up with their twinkles of joy, good humor, and amusement. The young man with Olenna tried his best to stifle a bark of laughter. He was only mostly successful. The young woman let out a sound somewhere between a scandalized gasp and an exasperated groan.
“Grandmother!”
Dumbledore chuckled, “And you’re even smaller than I assumed. But enough pleasantries. There will be plenty of time for them during tonight’s feast. And then, we shall attend to the business you came for tomorrow so you may all enjoy your stay at Hogwarts to its fullest extent.”
IIIII
Bonus Pics (sauce in comments)
Comments
Kz3838
Thank you for the great chapter, I really like the welcoming that the Tyrell's got. Stay safe out there and keep up the good work!
General_Rain
I imagine that Blaze will probably end up married to at least one or more of the bastard daughters of Oberin the Viper of Dorn. What with him being a member of Slytherin and with the way he is said in this novel to like knives and researching poisons. He would make the perfect son in law.
JO LP
So...Margery is getting the Atlas special, right? I mean, Melissandre is probably gonna get it too, but to be honest I simply cannot muster the fucks to give for her at all. She could disappear or die and it would not matter to me. Margery, Sansa and Myrcella on the other hand, yum.
DerkKill
I forgot to add a certain focal point that you could exploit economically and also bring more novelty in the sense of fashion, I refer to women's underwear and also lascivious Cosplays; wherever you see it, you will help the female population so that they do not suffer from sagging breasts and give them customs and comfort and in the case of men, show them the culture that different outfits give certain stimuli and emotions of the environment.
GreedOnGreed
ORGIES!!!
GreedOnGreed
Mission of the system: give seven orgasms to seven girls in a seven-hour fuck; repeat the following week in another city seven times in each of the seven kingdoms
GreedOnGreed
Better this way because compasses are a strategic advantage. I would say to continue selling music boxes and liquors; those help with public relations because they are bought mostly by nobles and also just to show off so if there is a lack of manpower I would say to give up the tents. The enchanted trunks should not be sold because they are at high risk of theft, they would be used to smuggle goods and people but above all in war they would risk Trojan Horses; for the problem of hunger they can send the food migniaturized via owls. I think that sorcerers do not produce mana but they use environmental magic and can transform life energy; if wizards and magical plants release magic into the environment but not as much as dragons this would explain the gradual increase of mana in Planetos. Apart from the students' pets what other fauna have they brought into this world? Doxys are common parasites that could spread outside Hogwarts and the same goes for Boggarts. Since a year has passed there should no longer be the risk of epidemics with people from two worlds meeting like it happened with the American natives. Given the state of Melisandre's body it seems to me that her rejuvenation technique only works on the brain but she needs much more magic to fully function and if Atlas gave her a massive flow of mana out of pity it would make her believe even more that he is Azor Ahai; she is a mix of Bella and Fleur's madness. R'hllor is a flaming heart so if Atlas stabbed him with the sword of Gryffindor he would get lightbringer and currently this would be the only method I can think of to kill the abyssal god; it seems to me that you insinuated that 'hllorR is not sentient so it could have been created specifically to forge the weapon to kill the deities. The ancient Valerians used the ritual intended for sheep on dragons, I suspect they were Lhazareen and if the ritual affected them mentally aligning them with the chosen animal it would also explain the Dothraki culture. Give Oberin some sunglasses! He would advertise and they would sell out in his country. Please no NTR! I imagine Atlas's group will continue to heal people on their journey, if it included STDs he would become the patron of brothels being worshipped as the God of safe sex, this will become even more likely by making charm and the contraceptive pill known. Pills and tablets are revolutionary in the Middle Ages but how difficult would it be to turn potions into them? The seven gods are influenced by their followers so by distributing an enchanted book in which Atlas performs the kamasutra in the span of a generation the maiden of the seven would be completely corrupted making her want to be fucked by Atlas. Accidental Ritual: Fuck seven girls for seven hours in all the capitals of the seven kingdoms within seven months!
QuantumServer
Thanks for the chapter
placid
Ahh, so it's only those two that are cuck queens, though maybe thats not the right term.... Maybe more voyeurism? Either way, lucky dog.
dryskies_btb
Heather and Fleur are just... like that. Kinda always have been. Daphne sees it more as a political weapon (as she said). She's not against it (obviously since she suggested it) but she also doesn't really take any pleasure from *ahem* spreading the good word of Atlas like Fleur does or want to join/watch like Heather does.
Osiris Sundavr
That would be hilarious. Dew it!!
placid
Did that coven magic turn them all into cuck queens? Cause it makes that magic even more special if that's the case...
DerkKill
you should gradually introduce the industrial age; and the issue with sports to gradually eliminate the coliseums and for team tournaments to replace them, also introduce certain betting games for the most adults; Since you have a lot of cultural diversity, you could have multiple designs on weapons and what better than crossbows; In addition, there must be certain otaku students, both Eastern and Western, who can share certain references from American video games and Animes.
DerkKill
Another technology to consider would be certain security systems such as cameras or automatic gargoyle-shaped sentries; Also, devise aerial drones with near-infrared night vision, you should be able to have half-science, half-magical airplanes, only as a very future project, that would be used for fast travel.
DerkKill
I have another idea to consider in the "house of the dragon" series, there was an easter egg about "Witcher" and it would be fun for Siri to appear and for you to end up with a small group in the universe of "Cyber Punk 2077" and you can acquire things and then store them in a trunk that contains a large space
ExodiaTheForbiddenOne
Your doing gods work !
dryskies_btb
And then Fleur's supposed connection to R'hllor and Atlas further convinces Melisandre that Atlas is Azor Ahai. And then Melisandre's belief in that makes Fleur think she converted her. And they just keep going on and on in circles of zealotry and delusional fanaticism. Lol that's too good to not use
Y. B. A.
Has Melisandre met Fleur yet? Because I can't help but dread the explosive outcome of two overzealous Ladies of Fire debating the merits of their chosen gods. Especially if Melisandre feels Fleur's innate affinity with Fire and *insists* that she really *belongs* to Rh'llor. *boss music starts playing*
Hiram
Are you sure you read the whole chapter? There is more after the first set of pictures. It was as long as usual.
jp9901
Fleur will convert Melisandre to believing in our one true god, Atlas.
Slicedtoad
I appreciate how much content you managed to fit in this chapter.
Hellfox
Amazing chapter as always. Can't wait for more.❤️❤️❤️
Tom smith
-me on mobile app. thinking there is heaps to go reading about half way down. Get to 2/3 down the page realised the rest is just pictures. Sad face. I’m curious if there will be some sort of apotheosis for atlas from fleur and her dramatic/fanatic worship of atlas after their tour around some sort of if enough people believe it happens so and so.
Marius Petrauskas
great chapter
dryskies_btb
1: chanel2milky 2: jadeyanh 3: megatera_ttv 4: skirby 5: idk 6: lowkeydeadinside 7: nnnnekochan
