Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.
Welcome everyone to my newest story, this time based around House Tyrell.
I have aged some of the characters up for this story but only in House Tyrell. Loras was now born in 277 AC with Harry being born a year later. Margaery was still born in 284 AC. Sine I do not know which family the current Lady Tyrell comes from I have simply not mentioned it.
Some chapters will be longer than other, it depends on how much there is for Harry to do as this story will focus more centrally on him.
On with the show…
Chapter 1 – Sprouting Roses
The multiverse is vast, its true extent is determined solely by the imagination of the person who chooses to dive into its immense depths. Anything and everything can happen there, especially if you are Harry Potter.
In many worlds Harry is a wizard on twentieth century Earth and has to save the world from Lord Voldemort. In some he fails and in others he succeeds, some he becomes a villain in his own right or a hero beyond measure but in each of these versions of him often share the same traits in common and carry either the same name or a variation of it. Every single possibility is played out in every single detail.
In the world of ice and fire, he could have been born into House Stark and been the most honourable and fiercest of all of its wolves, or into House Lannister and been a roaring lion feared across the land. In any of the more famous and storied houses he would have made his mark on history. But this time he was born into the house of roses, House Tyrell. What will his legacy be? How will he play the great game or will it play him?
Highgarden, the Reach…
In one of the many groves of Highgarden Olenna Tyrell was eating her breakfast, enjoying the morning sun as she took a brief respite from all the politics and intrigue that came from ruling Highgarden in all but name. Her cunning had given her the title 'The Queen of Thorns', something that she thought with a smile was well earned as she might bend people with sweet words or cut them with her thorns. However just as she dabbed her lips with a napkin to clean her mouth a crash made her sigh. At this hour of the morning she thought wearily there could only be one cause for such a disturbance.
"Harry!" Olenna Tyrell called out as she saw her favourite grandson run off at surprising speed, paying her cry no mind with a knight sworn to their family chasing after him. She might love her grandson's lust for life and beaming smile but his tendency for pulling pranks on members of their household and talent for winding people up was grating on her nerves. Loras might be the eldest but he was showing signs of being as much of a fool as his father and Harry while showing greater intelligence than both his older brother and father put together was too wild in her mind to be reliable. She was despairing at the future of her house if she could not get Loras to be smarter although she knew from personal experience that it was highly unlikely to work or and she was somewhat worried about this she somehow got Harry to calm down and act more responsibly.
Even the birth of her granddaughter, Margaery could not ease her troubled mind. While she hoped that the girl once old enough would be a good protégé, it was not Margaery that was going to rule Highgarden one day. She had to get at least one of her grandson's to shape up or her house was going to struggle badly once she was gone Olenna thought with a touch of arrogance that she would never acknowledge. So as she sipped some clean and refreshing water in her private grove she thought how in the world she was going to deal with this crisis she had found herself in. It took a considerable while but then she remembered a letter from Lord Hewitt earlier in the year, asking if he might foster one of his daughters at Highgarden. The boldness of his suggestion had instantly stopped Mace from accepting it insulting the Hewitts which was enough of a worry on its own, but he unlike Olenna could not see why Lord Hewitt was doing it. He wanted his daughter to get close to Loras so she could convince him to marry her when they were old enough and be the new Lady of Highgarden. Olenna could admire his confidence although if the girl was not up to it Olenna thought darkly she would never let her get close to the throne of Highgarden.
Still Lord Hewitt was one of their strongest vassals and a smart man with considerable influence in their naval forces given his islands serviced their fleet. He was also a good ruler with a strong and intelligent head on his shoulder, someone she wanted on her side so her mind pondered on how she might keep him in the fold while bringing her grandsons in line until finally she came up with a plan. Lord Hewitt's chosen daughter would be fostered here, that way she could see if the girl chosen was good enough to take her place here and Harry would be fostered at Oldtown where hopefully Lord Hightower could manage him until he calmed down. It was a risky plan she knew but no one won the Game of Thrones without taking chances she thought to herself.
Unaware of what his grandmother was planning for him, Harry was hiding in the gardens to avoid Ser Cole after he had put a pie in his boots. He nearly laughed again as he recalled the expression on Cole's face when he had quite literally put his foot in it. It had been worth being chased around the gardens and the lecture he was surely going to get from his grandmother Olenna and the shouting from his father Mace. He did feel bad for his grandmother though, he loved her dearly and few people seemed as strong willed or as clever as her. She seemed to believe he could be more than just a sword at the side of his older brother Loras who he had no respect for at all. Loras was completely pompous and arrogant, trying to boss him about but Harry had other plans for his future.
He wanted to travel the world, explore and see all that it had too offer. He was thankful that Loras had been born before him as he did not have the Lordship of the Reach hanging over his head however much Loras boasted of it to him thinking no doubt that it was something his brother craved. It was enough to make the six year old laugh, grandmother would surely have her hands full trying to make a half decent lord out of Loras Harry thought with mirth.
When finally it started to become quiet again and the knights moved on he returned to the castle and smirked as he saw the frowns on the faces of Loras and his father who looked ready to explode only to be cut off at the knees by his grandmother who spoke first.
"Mace go and get your supper while I talk to my grandson in peace." Her voice was sharp and instantly sent both Loras and Mace scurrying off to the hall for their supper like a pair of errant boys. Harry smiled and Olenna could not help but smile too as she felt his boundless energy and enthusiasm but she shook herself and managed to school her features into a stern mask before she gestured for him to follow her to her rooms where she planned to discuss the future with him. Once they had arrived she closed the door.
"Sit Harry. I have something to tell you." Olenna told him and the boy surprised her by doing as he was told, no she thought to herself that was not so odd. Harry did do what she told him to most of the time it was Mace or Loras he ignored. It was strange but he did remind her of the sort of person she had been at that age; daring, wilful and respecting only those that she felt deserved it. His eyes were bright as looked at her, curious at what she meant to tell him. It brought joy to her old and cynical bones that she had at last been rewarded with a capable Tyrell male after putting up with Luther and Mace for years so she decided to get straight to business. "You will be fostered at Oldtown with Lord Hightower while Lord Hewitt's daughter comes here, your father has insulted the man so to keep our house strong I need you to go down to Oldtown as a sign of out trust and recognition." She told him simply and Harry just nodded, making Olenna honestly believe that he could understand what she was telling him and her hopes for him increased in strength.
She was right too Harry could understand, he knew how big of a fool his father was, insulting their vassals by taking credit for their achievements and the Hightowers were one of the most powerful and respected houses in the Reach. Building better relations with them would ensure their position for the foreseeable future. Harry's face became serious as he asked his grandmother.
"What should I do while I am there?" He would travel once he was old enough but for the moment he was still too young so he realised he should take the time to learn all that he could now so he would be prepared later when he was out in the world with little to protect him.
"Learn all that you can from the Hightowers; they are a smart family after all." Olenna told him with her own face now serious too. "And look how people interact, how they talk and find out what drives them. Once you know that you can turn it to your advantage." She said, hoping that it would help him learn to play the game. It was only a start but it was one of the most fundamental lessons.
Harry nodded, knowing somehow that his life was about to get more interesting.
The following morning Harry was saying good bye to his family as he went to go and spent the rest of his childhood at Oldtown. Loras had not even bothered to see his brother off while their mother was in tears and she clung to him for a few minutes as she cried gently into his shoulder. He would have felt embarrassed if this was not the last time he would see her for a while, so he gently returned her hugs.
"Make sure to wrap up warm and behave for the Hightowers. Obey your grandfather. Write every day." She urged him with her eyes raw from crying, even though he was going to live with her family. Harry smiled and told her.
"Yes mother." She gave him one last hug before his father came up to him. Harry looked at his father and wondered how such a man could come from Olenna Tyrell. He puffed up almost like that fish that the maesters had taught him about and said grandly.
"Perhaps Lord Hightower can make a proper knight out of you that will not shame this family." Mace said and he did not even notice Harry's eyes narrow or Olenna's for that matter and Harry only said back coldly.
"Goodbye father." Feeling anger that he was just able to conceal with the help of his grandmother's teachings he got onto the cart and the company of knights that were escorting him to Oldtown began to move off. He smiled and waved to his grandmother and his mother who waved back while his father just walked back into the castle without a backwards glance which annoyed Harry even more, making him glad that he was going to be away from his buffoon of a father for some time.
As their company passed through the Reach on their way to Oldtown, Harry enjoyed camping out under the stars some nights when they could not stay in any inns. Looking out at the bright sky, Harry entertained himself by making up his own constellations like the dragon, the rose, the wolf and the lion. He felt his urge to explore intensify wondering what new constellations he might see on shores far from Westeros if he ever got the chance.
When he got up the following morning he decided to take an early morning swim in the shallower areas of the River Mandor where its current was not as strong. The knights that were supposed to be watching him were too busy having their breakfast or packing up the camp so with a daredevil smile he stripped down and dived into the cool water. Swimming was no problem he had always enjoyed the water having been taught to swim from an early age and the current was gentle. He dived beneath the surface of the water and looked at the strange environment underneath its surface.
The fish swum past and the plants moved in the slight current and he smiled, enjoying the cool water when suddenly a glint on the riverbed caught his eye. He swum down to the area and brushed aside the mud and saw a strange looking ring, he pulled it free of the mud putting it onto his small finger and brushed more of the mud aside and saw a bastard sword's hilt and a rather strange looking lump of stone. Harry surfaced briefly for air before he returned to shore and the left the ring before diving back under the water and dragged first the sword and then the stone to the bank. Seeing that the knights had yet to notice his absence, Harry dried himself off before he started cleaning the mud off of his scavenged items.
The sword drew his attention first but that was to be expected of a young lad with dreams of adventure and glory. Wiping away the mud Harry was excited to the ripples in the steel which was coloured black, Harry knew from the maesters who had taught him that this was only be seen in Valyrian steel and he wondered if the sword had a name. Cleaning away the last of the mud from the hilt he saw a shining cross guard of black steel decorated with golden interlocking rings. The leather on the grip was ruined from years under water but the remains had once been bright blue it appeared. Harry's eyes widened as he realised that he was holding Orphan-maker, the Valyrian steel sword of House Roxton, lost during the second battle of Tumbleton during the Dance of Dragons. How in the blazes it had ended up in the Mander Harry did not know but he was grateful all the same. The rest of House Roxton had perished in that war so no-one was left to lay claim to the sword. Harry thought with glee that this was his sword now. He tried to lift it only to be annoyed at how heavy it was. He comforted himself however with the thought that once he had grown enough it would be easy to lift.
Reluctantly putting the sword aside he turned to the odd shaped stone he had found and wiped it clean of the mud. It was then he saw the strange colours of the stone; it was a bright bronze that gleamed in the sun and when the mud had been washed from its various edges Harry noticed it was almost like the stone had scales and felt warm to the touch even after all the time in the water. A dragon egg, Harry thought with awe. He had often dreamt of flying high above the clouds maybe this was a sign that he might.
Reluctantly he then turned to the final item he had retrieved from the river, the mysterious ring. Due to its small size it did not take long to clean but it was a strange thing as Harry could swear that it was glowing slightly and was warm to the touch. The setting was normal gold but the stone was overly large and dark reminding Harry of dragonglass in its colouring but it was as smooth and strong as diamond. What really caught his eye however was the symbol that had been carved into it, a triangle with a circle inside with a line straight down the centre. It was like no coat of arms Harry had learned of during his time with the maesters but somehow he felt that it was important.
Oldtown. Three Days later…
It had been hard Harry conceded to hide his new treasures from the men that were accompanying him to Oldtown knowing full well that they would take the sword, egg and ring from him should they be discovered for themselves after all the egg and the sword would be worth a fortune. Tywin Lannister would probably make someone a lord or at least a very wealthy man just for the sword or so Harry had heard.
So he had wrapped them carefully in his bed roll and spare clothes so he was glad to finally arrive at the place where he would be spending the rest of his childhood…Oldtown. His eyes were wide with wonder as he took in the sights; the city was beautiful with its white stone buildings that had been carved with such care and attention to detail. And it was fascinating to see all of the people bustling about the markets, shops, halls and docks of the oldest city in Westeros. They rode past the Citadel, home of the Maesters but it was the great lighthouse and castle that gave the ruling family its name, Hightower that caught Harry's eye.
Well Harry thought with awe, it was certainly a sight to behold. The island known as Battle Island that it stood on was a relatively small mass of black stone but the castle/lighthouse soared high into the sky. The highest man made structure in the known world according to the maesters, even taller than the Wall in the North. Made of the same white stone as the rest of the city it was a formidable structure and the burning beacon on the very top must on a dark night be visible for miles Harry thought very impressed at all of the effort that must have gone into building such a structure.
They had to take a boat to reach Battle Island as it sat in the mouth of the harbour and there was no bridges. The slight rocking of the boat was of small consideration to Harry who stared at Hightower with awe, he was really looking forward to exploring the enormous building and nearly leapt from the boat the moment it was close enough to the small dock only to remember the manners that Olenna had forced him to learn or else he would never lift a sword or ride a horse ever again. So he impatiently waited for the boat to dock and climbed out where Lord Leyton Hightower, his grandfather was waiting. The man was tall and stern looking, nowhere near as much fun as his grandmother Olenna Harry thought to himself but he nevertheless greeted him as the man's station demanded and bowed.
"Lord Hightower, thank you for granting me the warmth of your home. I am truly honoured." Harry said with a calm but respectful voice. Lord Hightower nodded imperiously before saying to his most unruly grandson.
"I have been tasked by your father and grandmother to make you a son worthy of a great house, I personally have heard word of your unruliness and intend to put a stop to such childishness once and for all."
The coldness of the tone of voice and the glare sent his way made Harry frown, he had not been that much of a menace had he? A few pranks and skipped lessons but nothing extreme and no one had been hurt. Well he thought with annoyance to himself if Lord Hightower thought he was going to be a good little boy and do everything he was told then he had another thing coming Harry decided indignantly.
He was bid to follow Lord Hightower into the castle and while still fuming inside Harry walked a step behind him.
Later just after dinner where Lord Hightower had introduced Harry to the rest of his family who were just as stuck up as Lord Hightower himself, Harry was sitting in his room missing Highgarden already. He distracted himself from thoughts of pranks he might pull on them by studying the ring he had found in the river. He did not know why but it seemed that every time he looked at it, it was like his eyes were trying to trick him. It was like there was some kind of aura coming off it, a faint purple light almost like smoke but the moment he blinked it was gone. He had considered showing it to the maester to see if he could find out who had owned the ring but something held him back.
The impulse to keep the ring to himself confused Harry as he had no real reason to do so but regardless it was a gut feeling and so far his gut had not let him down. He was turning the ring over and over again in his hands, wondering who might have once owned it when suddenly a figure appeared in the centre of the room. Harry leapt to his feet and threw a small book from his bedside table at the stranger but to his great surprise the book went straight through him. The stranger was quite annoyed by the attack and spoke indignantly to Harry.
"Do you mind young man? I might be dead but it does not mean I enjoy having objects thrown through me." Harry was confused and at a lost in regards to what he was going to say. Honestly he thought to himself what did you say to a ghost? Especially after you just threw a book through him Harry thought and asked a rather stupid question.
"Are you really dead?" The stranger puffed up with non-existent air as offended by the question.
"Of course I am. How else could the Stone of Resurrection bring me here to this place?" The Stranger said in a huff and Harry looked down at the ring with curiosity. Before asking his next question, Harry finally looked at the stranger and was intrigued by his appearance. He was tall but slim, not very well muscled and had the air of a scholar about him, down to the scrolls in his hands. He was of Valyrian origin; silver hair and purple eyes and wore robes of white silk. Needing answers and wondering just what it was that he was holding in his hand, Harry asked his next question.
"What is the Stone of Resurrection?" Harry looked intently and the stranger seemed to struggle for a moment before finally answering.
"It is a conduit through which the dead can return to the world of the living for a brief time and the summoned spirit cannot fail to answer any question you ask. Each world has one although in some worlds it is paired with a wand and cloak that is not the case here." The stranger said angrily, not wanting to answer the question but having no choice and Harry's eyes widened at what he had said.
"Any one that I choose and they have to answer any question I ask? At no cost to me?" Harry asked just to confirm what the stranger had said. Again the man struggled to not speak but could not resist telling Harry what he wanted to know.
"YES! AND YOU ARE FREE TO USE IT WITHOUT COST!" The man snapped and Harry was temporary overwhelmed by the sheer possibilities that now were open to him. Any question he wanted answered, any person he might want to talk too now within reach. He concentrated and the stranger disappeared, sent back to the world beyond. In his place was a man that Harry had wanted to meet since he had first heard of his legend.
"Ser Aemon Targaryen." Harry said as he looked at the most famous knight that had ever lived. Known as the Dragonknight, he was said to have been the greatest knight that had ever lived with such a skill at swordplay that he was honoured by wielding the ancestral Targaryen sword Dark Sister. He was a splendid sight indeed and Harry was suddenly very nervous as he was faced with such a great warrior especially one he idolised. Aemon looked angry for a moment at having his rest interrupted but Harry spoke before he could call Harry out on summoning him here, managing to look the legendary knight in the eyes however anxious it made him. "I am so very honoured to meet you."
Aemon looked at him strangely for a moment before bursting out laughing much to Harry's embarrassment and told the young lad with mirth still in his eyes.
"No worry lad, it is nice to talk to someone who can look me in the eyes. Many were too nervous or scared of my house during my century, except for Naerys." Aemon said with a smile remembering the love of his life.
Harry was instantly put at ease and excitedly asked.
"How did you become such a good swordsman? Was it talent or just training?"
Aemon looked at him with the air of mirth before answering. "A mix of both lad, natural talent might give you a head start but if you do not strengthen and sharpen yourself with training you will not last long. If I had put my faith completely in my own talent, Cregan Stark would have beaten me easily. That man was the finest opponent I ever faced."
Harry's face lit up with a smile and nearly jumping up and down with excitement asked. "Can you show me?"
Aemon smiled, liking the idea of training a student. Apart from spending time with Naerys and their secret daughter Daenerys making him laugh at getting one over on that fat idiot Aegon IV, teaching was something he enjoyed. So he drew his ghostly blade and said.
"Do as I do."
That was the first chapter to get things started.
Harry will get the memories of the Canon verse so do not worry about that.
Please review and let me know what you think?