Disclaimer: I own neither Game of Thrones nor Harry Potter.

AN: Welcome to my latest creation, rest assured that I will continue with the old ones shortly, and they are not abandoned. These past few years have been very busy for me, but are finally slowing down next month.

The events of this chapter take place during the episode "Baelor"

The Song of Builders

By Jojobevco

Prologue: All is Well, My Ass!

October 31, 20XX

Entrance Hall

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Hogsmeade, Scotland, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland

Chief Auror Harry James Potter, Chosen Defeater of Voldemort, Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, and unbeknownst to all but a few, Master of Death, was having a very, very bad day. Of course, every Halloween was a bad day. Parents murdered, troll in dungeons, Chamber of Secrets opened, Sirius invades, Goblet of Fire, etc. He and Master Auror Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin were currently trapped inside the Hogwarts Entrance Hall, with a freakin' dragon. No one had any idea how it got in. As the professors were busy securing moving the students away from the Great Hall, where dinner had been in full swing, Harry and Tonks were putting up a less than successful delaying action. As Harry held a shield against the dragon fire, Tonks was firing shards of rock at the dragon, unfortunately doing nothing except pissing it off. The Dragon blew fire at Tonks as she dodged, burning the door to Filch's Office to a crisp.

Harry swore, "Fuck all! Screw it Tonks, I'm ending this! Shield!" For an instant Harry was ashamed for cursing, he does image to maintain and all, before shrugging it off.

Tonks's shield snapped in place in front of Harry's as he released it and quietly whispered, "Deathstick." The Elder Wand, shot into his left hand, "Tonks, Drop the shield on my count. 3-2-1-Now!" The shield dropped just as the Dragon was breathing, and golden lights shot out of Harry's wands. A few things happened in a few short seconds. The spell met the dragon's fire causing a massive magical reaction. Harry's Holly and Phoenix Feather wand shattered into pieces, sending parts of molten phoenix feather blowing though the room, and leaving parts of his wand embedded in his hand. The dragon was blasted back against the main doors to the school as a tidal wave of magic washed over Harry and Tonks, leaving nothing but scorch marks in their place.

Chapter 1

The Baelor Contingency

298 AL

Exterior

The Sept of Baelor

King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros

The sun was high in the sky as Lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King (disputed), and Lord of Winterfell was dragged from the black cells to the Sept of Baelor. He was dragged into the square, smelling the city which smelled only slightly better than his cell. As he looked toward the statue of Baelor Targaryen he saw Arya kneeling and speaking to a man with wild black hair and a faded lightning bolt scar on his forehead. Eddard breathed a sigh of relief. Harry would take care of this.

Across the plaza, Harry was trying to reason with a hysterical Arya Stark, a task he did not enjoy. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before saying firmly, "Arya, I will take care of your father. I will rescue him and your sister, but first I need to get you safe." He tapped a finger on Arya' head, watching as she turned invisible under a disillusionment charm and pressed a coin into her hands. "This will take you back to Winterfell. Now, say your words."

Arya took a deep breath, knowing that Harry would take care of it and whispered, "Winter is Coming."

Harry felt the telltale woosh of a portkey and ran back toward the steps where Ned started speaking Harry smirked and nodded, giving Ned a brief pause and causing him to ad lib his lines.

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King. I come before you, in the sight of gods and men. To tell you, that I hold true to the faith of my King and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to defend and protect his children, however Joffrey Baratheon is not his son. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Blessed bear witness to what I say. Joffrey Baratheon is the product of incest between Cerci Lannister and Jamie Lannister. He is not and never should be Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."

Everyone, in the crowd, and on the platform was dumbfounded. For those in the crowd, this was unthinkable. For those on the platform, well, Joffrey was in shock, Cerci looked faint, Sansa looked vaguely disgusted at Joffrey, the Kingsguard looked nonplussed, and poor Pycelle was so far off script that all he could do was say his line.

"As we sin…so do we suffer. This man has confessed his crimes (which led the crowd to ask, "What crimes?") in the sight of gods and men (again, louder the crowd was asking, "What crimes?"). The gods are just, but Beloved Baelor taught us they can also be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, Your Grace."

The crowd began shouting such things as, "He's not a traitor, he's a hero!" and "Joffrey the Bastard!"

Harry noted the collapsing situation and rushed up to the stage as he heard the extremely whiny voice of "King" Joffrey "Baratheon" declaring rather unimaginatively and still on script, "My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join The Night's Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile and My Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father, but they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your King, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

Well, crap. The crowd was enraged, charging

Harry reached into his cloak pocket and grabbed a small circular stone, engraved with a grouping of runes and the letters "WWW." He whispered, "Activate."

The next minute flew by. Harry remembered the Decoy Detonators going off, covering the entire area in a thick smoke, but the rest was a blur as he raced up the steps behind Ser Ilyn, grabbing Ice from his hands and cleaving the man in two, before holding the sword in his left hand. He then waved his right hand, delicately cutting Ned's bindings and handed him the sword as he reached out with the right again, blasting back the guards restraining Sansa and summoning her towards him. She flew into his arms as he grabbed Ned's shoulder and turned on his heel.

Moments Later

Somewhere south of Lhazar, Essos

Harry felt the warm wind whipping around his face and opens his eyes.

"Well, this isn't Winterfell."

Ned, who was using Ice as a walking stick, sighed, "Obviously."

They heard sobbing in the distance and moved toward it. About a hundred feet away, they found, "Arya?"

"Father?"

Arya turned to Harry, "Harry, you said this would take me to Winterfell."

"I know, and it should have. There is something in the air here. Someone is using dark magic, extremely dark magic."

"Why did that pull us here?"

Harry pinched is brow as he carefully explained, "There is not a lot of magic in the world, Ned, so something like this throws everything, off balance. It is rather annoying."

Ned asked, "So what do we do?"

"We find the source, and we stop it."

Harry slowly turned around, before deciding on a direction, "That way."

A short time later, they arrived at the edge of what appeared to be a dwindling Dothraki camp. A large group was slowly moving off as a smaller group seemed to stay. They crouched down and looked around. A number of small tents surrounded a great tent that seemed to have black wisps of…something…flying around it.

Harry chuckled, "Well, if I had to guess, it would be the tent in the center. Stay here, I'll handle this." After conjuring some basic supplies and pulling some foodstuffs out of a bottomless moleskin pouch, Harry started walking toward the tent in his full magical regalia, the Cloak of Invisibility billowing behind him. The Resurrection Stone caught the sunlight and glinted on his hand, where it sat as a ring. Finally, he held the Elder Wand in his hand. As he approached the group, people looked over curiously, warriors grabbed their weapons, and then he saw Ser Jorah Mormont approach.

"Ser Jorah!"

"Lord Harry!" Mormont approached and bowed.

They then shook hands, "Report, Ser Jorah."

"Three days ago the Khalasar attacked Lhazar, a country of sheep and goat herders. There was a disagreement between Khal Drogo and one of his warriors, and Drogo was injured. Daenerys Targaryen enlisted the services of a Lhazareen Godswife by the name of Mirri Maz Durr to treat Drogo's wounds. Over time, the wounds became infected, and the outcome looked grim. Targaryen authorized the Godswife to use Blood Magic to save Drogo. Just before you got here, she went into labor, the midwives refused to deliver due to the 'curse' she had. I left her with the Godswife."

Harry blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose, "So let me get this straight, our little queen decided to hire a woman from a town her husband just sacked to treat his wounds. Is she an idiot?"

"It appears that she placed too much faith in her."

"And then you left a pregnant woman with her. Why didn't you try to contact me?"

"I tried," Jorah held up the mirror, "But I was unable to reach you."

"Probably the same interference that brought me here."

Harry gripped Ser Jorah's shoulder and walked into the tent. As he did, he felt the oppression of death and dark magic around him. He intoned, "Expecto Patronum," A white stag drove forward, driving the dead from the tent. Mirri Maz Durr looked over in shock, "Who are you?"

Harry smirked in his best approximation of an evil smirk, "I am the Master of Death," He then fired off a stupefy at the, for all intents and purposes Dark Witch. Harry examined Khal Drogo. Harry discovered his soul had been removed; like the kiss of a dementor, it was too late for him. Harry then turned to Daenerys Targaryen. There was an aura of dark magic around her womb, twisting the child within into something horrible. Harry knew he had to do something quickly, but first, he had to speak with this very special kind of fool. Mouth set into a grim line, he walked up and touched his forehead to hers.

Harry found himself, oddly in the tent again, however, there were no dark spirits here, no furniture, just himself and a naked Daenerys. Harry quickly imagined a regal set of robes and chuckled, "For most, when they come here, their first thought is to call clothes."

"Who are you?"

"That is a wonderful question, Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Your Name, Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea. Or as I would call you, Daenerys the Fool. How much of an idiot do you have to be in order to trust someone whose town you were in the middle of sacking to save the man in charge of sacking it? Mirri Maz Durr manipulated you, poisoned your husband, killed his prized horse, and is currently killing your 'stallion who might mount the world.'"

"She is what!?"

Harry continued, ignoring the question, "As for who I am, I am Harry Potter. For your purposes I am Master of Death and your only hope," Harry smiled at an inside joke. "The Dark Witch has stolen your husband's soul, his very essence; He is now less than even a Wight. However, I can still save your child."

Daenerys looked at him suspiciously, "And how do I know you are telling the truth."

"We are inside your mind. Search within yourself and you will find the truth."

Daenerys closed her eyes and felt Rhaego's pain. She whispered, "It's true." Then she turned to Harry, "Can you save him?"

Harry could and would. However, he had a second thought, in his many years in this world, he had learned about politics and about backstabbers. Harry was still a good person, but his 'saving people thing' had been tempered by a negative world view. He evoked his Slytherin side, and decided to take advantage of a situation. "I can and I will, but in return, I expect the absolute and unquestioning loyalty of you and your line. Do you agree?" Inside, Harry chuckled at his inside joke.

Daenerys weighed the options, basically her son's life for her own. With her husband dead and son to be shortly, she would be nothing anyway. She could feel her kingdom slipping from her grip. She looked Harry in the eye and saw, somehow, a good man. "I agree." With her words a cord flew from her heart to Harry's.

Harry smiled and said, "It is done." He then vanished from Daenerys's mind, entering the waking world. Harry held out his hands; Elder Wand in his right and Resurrection Stone on his left. He started pulling the magic out of Daenerys, filtering out the dark magic through the Resurrection Stone and firing the light magic back into her. As he did, his Cloak of Invisibility started glowing white.

Over the years, Harry had never quite figured out how the whole 'Master of Death' thing worked, unfortunately, there was no job orientation. However, during his years in this world, he had discovered that he had a masterful, overriding, control over the raw magic used by the magic users here. He was like a sculptor, chiseling marble to his image, it was amazing and terrifying.

After a few minutes, the process was complete, the tent, previously holding the darkest of spirits, now almost sang with joy. Harry called out, "Ser Jorah."

Ser Jorah entered, "Yes, Lord Harry?"

"Call for the midwives, tell them the 'curse' has been lifted." Ser Jorah gave a short bow before leaving. Harry then turned back to Daenerys, sitting next to her and taking her hand, trying to ease the pain she was feeling. A few moments later Ser Jorah returned with midwife and two handmaidens. While they tried to ask Harry to leave, Daenerys insisted that he stay.

Harry nodded, pulling out his wand and firing off a Patronus message to the Starks.

Meanwhile, hidden in the hills the Starks were watching as things had seemed to calm down, suddenly, they saw a white, ethereal stag galloping toward them. The stag stopped and opened its mouth, Lord Harry's voice coming out. "The situation has been dealt with; however, I will still be needed here. Ned, as you have probably concluded by now, this is indeed the camp of Daenerys Targaryen. I therefore ask that you do not approach the camp or kill Ser Jorah Mormont. He works for me." The stag slowly melted away.

The Starks didn't quite know what to feel, for Sansa and Arya, shock was in order. This was the first time they had seen magic like this done by Lord Harry. This was followed by confusion as to why Harry was helping and not killing someone they had been told was their mortal enemy. Ned, on the other hand, was feeling damn pissed off. Not so much at the fact that Harry was helping Daenerys, but the fact that he was working with a known slaver. Still he rolled on his back and did his best to get comfortable as night fell.

Across the Narrow Sea, in Winterfell, the Wildling Osha, known to a select few as Tonks, looked out toward the west, as she stood guard at the window of the Acting Lord of Winterfell, Bran Stark. Tonks was worried, her worries were effectively summed up in the question, "Where are you, Harry?"

AN: Please Review. My beta has noted that Harry appeared out of character in this chapter. Rest assured there is a reason for this. It will be explained in Chapter 3

AN2: This chapter has been updated to fix a slight continuity error regarding Harry's holly wand.