The Winter Wizard - Chapter 30 - Next Steps

Harry walked back from Daenerys’ tent with slow, thoughtful steps. The shadows of the camp stretched long as the morning sun continued to climb above the horizon, the days heat already starting to become oppressive. Despite the strangeness of everything around him, Harry’s mind was elsewhere — caught on the meeting he had just come from.

Daenerys Targaryen. He hadn’t known what to expect, but certainly not what he found: a girl who appeared to be about his age. There had been a quiet strength in her voice. One that reminded him of someone. Maybe several someones.

He didn’t want to admit it aloud, but he was impressed.

When he returned to where he and Jon had been directed to earlier, he found the other boy sitting up, scowling at him slightly in the morning light.

"Where were you?" Jon asked, voice rough with sleep and edged with worry. "You just left when I was asleep. Maybe wake me up next time before you plan on disappearing. The ‘guards’ wouldn’t say anything. But I guess I made a big enough ruckus that someone, one of Daenerys' handmaids I guess, came by to say you were safe, but she wouldn’t tell me where you went."

Harry winced and looked away guiltily. “Sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to sneak off. When I woke up, someone was already there to take me to see Daenerys. It didn’t seem like something I could exactly postpone.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. “You still could’ve woken me and just told me.”

Harry shrugged, offering a sheepish grin. “You looked like you needed your beauty sleep.”

Jon snorted and kicked out lightly at Harry’s shin. “I was worried, idiot. And what if it had been a trap? I would have no idea as to where you had gone.”

“I … well, I guess I didn’t think about that,” Harry admitted. “But it didn’t feel like one. Besides …” He reached down and tapped his side where his wand was strapped. “I’m not exactly defenseless, I’d have made it back alright.”

Jon followed the motion with his eyes and gave a reluctant nod. “Fair enough.” He leaned back slightly. “So … what happened?”

“Not much,” Harry replied, sitting beside him. “She didn’t threaten me or anything. Mostly, she just … talked. She asked some questions, yeah, but it felt like she just needed to get some things out of her system. I think she’s still trying to process everything that’s happened.”

Jon raised a skeptical eyebrow. “An early morning meeting? You must have made quite the impression. Do you really expect me to believe that a chat was all she needed from you.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “You heard what Ser Jorah said last night. She just lost her husband, her child. She’s hurting.”

Jon’s smirk faded and he nodded. “I suppose that’s fair. But next time you plan to vanish like that, wake me up first. I'd rather not sit here wondering whether you're dead or dragged off by horse worshipping cultists, waiting to see if I am next.”

“Fair,” Harry said, holding up a hand. “I’ll make sure to do that next time.”

Jon glanced over at him again. “So now what? Since you two had your little chat. Is there a plan?”

Harry hesitated. “Didn’t really get into it,” he admitted. “I mean, it doesn’t sound like there’s a grand masterplan in place, but I imagine she’ll want to talk with both of us soon.”

Jon opened his mouth to speak, but Harry beat him to it, raising a hand.

“I know you want to get home,” Harry said. “And believe me, I do too. But I’m not sure what we could do there right now that would make any real difference, we got the girls off safely and Lord Stark was pretty confident on us leaving King’s Landing. Honestly …” He looked toward the tent in the distance. “It might not be a bad idea to stay her and get on Daenerys’ good side. Especially before those dragons are fully grown.”

He shuddered slightly at the memory of the Hungarian Horntail — the sheer terror of facing that massive creature during the Triwizard Tournament. The power, the fire, the teeth. Even if Daenerys’ dragons were only the size of small dogs now, he knew what they could become.

“For what it’s worth I’d much rather have her as an ally than an enemy,” Harry muttered. “And I’m sure, deep down, the North would agree. And it might be easier to convince her of that when she doesn’t think we are just saying what we are saying out of fear from the huge fire-breathing dragons.”

Jon remained quiet for a long moment before replying, “Maybe. But you’re thinking of the North as thinking about the future. My family …” He stopped, eyes tightening, “… they remember just what her father did. The Mad King. And what if she’s the same? What if she turns out to be just as mad?”

He didn’t answer right away. He thought of Voldemort, of Dumbledore, of the line between intention and devastation. He knew through his own experiences, better than most, that power could warp and pain could poison.

“But … she didn’t feel mad,” Harry said at last. “She felt … young. Hurting. Maybe even lost.”

Jon gave him a long look, unreadable.

“I’m not saying she’s perfect,” Harry continued. “But I am saying we might be in a position to try and influence her. Help her a little if needed. For what it seems, there aren’t a lot of people willing to say no to rulers, and I think that is dangerous especially if she is hurting.”

Jon frowned, but nodded reluctantly.

“But what if we miss the signs and she turns out to be as mad as her father?” Jon asked quietly, his eyes still looking in the direction of Daenerys’ tent. “What if she makes it back to Westeros with our help and goes mad.”

Harry followed his gaze for a moment, then looked out beyond the camp, where the dunes continued into the distance. He exhaled, thoughtful.

“That’s a reasonable concern,” Harry admitted. “But I don’t think it works like that. Just because she is her father’s daughter … well, she’s not her father. She’s … her own person, just as I am, and just as you are.” He paused before adding, “And if it turns out you’re right, maybe at that point we’ll be close enough to help her before things go too far.”

Jon studied him for a moment. “I just hope we don’t end up making it worse. Especially since … you know. She has dragons.”

He shook his head slowly, as if saying the word still felt ridiculous. “If I hadn’t seen them with my own two eyes …”

Harry nodded, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “The first time seeing a dragon can be … disarming.”

Jon’s brow rose.

Harry grinned at the memory. “Yeah. Back in my first year at Hogwarts. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, ended up with a dragon egg. Thought he’d won big and planned on raising one. He named it Norbert.”

“Norbert,” Jon repeated flatly.

“I know.” Harry chuckled. “Anyway, it hatched one night in his hut. A tiny little thing, with wings too big for its body and scales like wet stone. It sneezed a puff of fire right into Hagrid’s beard, nearly caught him on fire.”

Jon blinked at him, trying to picture it. Then, to Harry’s relief, let out a small smile.

“Hagrid kept trying to feed it chickens and brandy. Said it helped with digestion,” Harry added, shaking his head fondly. “We had to smuggle it out eventually, before the school caught wind. It was a chaotic experience. But honestly? Kinda enjoyable, too.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as the memory passed, and a shadow crossed his face. “The next time I saw a dragon however, well it wasn’t quite so charming.”

Jon’s attention sharpened. “What happened?”

Harry hesitated prepared to go into detail about flying with the dragon in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, but before he could, one of the Dothraki warriors approached them before quietly talking to the two men tasked with keeping them there. The new man was tall and wiry, with a curved blade on his hip and an expression somewhere between bored and impatient. After a couple seconds the other two men nodded and the newcomer came towards them before pointing toward Daenerys’ tent.

“Come,” the man said simply, in a very accented voice, gesturing with a sharp flick of his wrist before turning around and walking in that direction.

Harry and Jon exchanged a glance.

“Well,” Harry said, standing. “Looks like we’re getting that chat sooner rather than later.”

Jon nodded and stood up beside him, before the two of them followed the silent Dothraki through the quieted camp. A few men still sat beside fires, murmuring in their own language or sharpening weapons, but most were either still asleep or somewhere else. The soft rustle of the desert wind mingled with the faint crackle of torches as they neared Daenerys’ pavilion.

Jon leaned toward him and muttered, “You still think this was a good idea?”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know. But I think at the moment it might be the only one we have.”

Jon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. We’ll stay and see what there is to be said. At least for now. But if I see even a hint of madness in her eyes …”

“We will deal with it.” Harry said cutting him off as the Dothraki man led them to a cleared circle just outside her tent, where Daenerys sat cross-legged on a low cushion, her silver-blonde hair catching the morning light like a crown. Ser Jorah sat at her side with his arms crossed, eyes narrowing as Harry and Jon approached. Several Dothraki warriors sat or squatted nearby, deep in a hushed but animated discussion in their own tongue that stopped entirely when the newcomers arrived.

Jon stiffened beside Harry as every pair of eyes turned toward them. The silence was sharp.

Daenerys, however, smiled, faint but not unkind. “Harry. Jon. Welcome. Thanks for joining us.”

Ser Jorah said nothing, but the tension in his shoulders made his thoughts of their arrival plain.

“I’m glad you came,” Daenerys continued, her voice calm and measured. “I am certain you had a very eventful trip here and there is much I would like to know about Westeros … as I suspect you both are an untapped well of recent knowledge.”

She paused, her eyes flicking between them. “But that will have to wait. For now, we’re in the middle of deciding our next course of action.”

“So,” Harry began, “what are your plans?”

The question had barely left his mouth before one of the Dothraki let out a furious shout. The man rose from his seat in a surge of motion, long hair braided with bells clinking as he gestured angrily at Harry, spitting out words in his own language that Harry didn’t understand—but the fury in his tone was unmistakable.

Harry's hand twitched, immediately reaching for his wand out of instinct more than intent, although he did not draw it.

“Enough!” Daenerys barked, sharp and cold.

The Dothraki man hesitated, then after staring at Harry for several seconds finally lowered himself slowly back into his seat with a reluctant grunt, still glaring daggers at Harry.

Harry let his hand fall away from his wand and looked over at Jon, who tensed beside him, ready to react if needed. But the moment passed, and Harry turned his attention back to Daenerys, impressed despite himself. She’d calmed the outburst with nothing but her voice.

“I apologize,” Daenerys said to Harry, her tone softer now. “They’re … passionate. After all the events of last night, emotions are high. And not all of them were in favor of letting outsiders be involved with our planning.”

Harry gave a small nod in acknowledgment, not wanting to escalate anything further.

“As to your question,” Daenerys said, straightening, “my plan is simple. I will go to Westeros … and reclaim my throne.”

Jon stiffened beside Harry. Harry himself gave a slight nod but lifted a brow.

“Why?” he asked plainly.

Her eyes locked on him, narrowing slightly. “Because it is my birthright,” she said, her voice laced with a touch of anger.

Harry lifted both hands. “I understand. And no offense meant. But … should the master-at-arms of a castle be chosen just because he’s the son of the previous master-at-arms? Or should it go to the best swordsman, the one who can actually teach others to wield a blade?”

Ser Jorah surged to his feet, glaring at Harry. “Mind your tongue, you insolent little …”

Harry didn’t flinch. His hands remained raised, but his eyes didn’t leave Daenerys. “Again, I mean no disrespect. It is just that where I come from, we do things slightly differently and I’m just asking a question.”

Daenerys gave Ser Jorah a subtle gesture, and the knight reluctantly sat back down, though his scowl remained.

She studied Harry carefully, then asked, “Do you really believe the usurper. This Robert Baratheon, is the right man to sit the Iron Throne? Is he a good king? From what I’ve heard … he’s a drunk. More interested in whoring and feasting than ruling. Should his claim to the throne be more valid than mine just because he killed my brother.”

Harry hesitated but before he could come up with a response Daenerys inclined her head slightly, her point made.

“That is a fair point,” Harry finally responded, “but I know that war in Westeros will mean countless deaths. Innocent people, smallfolk who don’t really care one way or the other who wears the crown, will suffer. Any ruler who truly wants to lead should be mindful of that. Shouldn’t be so quick to discount those lives.”

Harry felt every eye on him as he heard a couple of the Dothraki whispering to each other likely translating what he had said to the others who didn’t understand. Daenerys watched him with a new look, one that didn’t hold contempt or defensiveness, but perhaps … curiosity.

“I thank you for your counsel and your prespective,” she said after a pause. “Your land must be truly remarkable if every position is held by the most qualified individual.”

Harry gave a short laugh despite himself, remembering the likes of Ludo Bagman, Gilderoy Lockhart, Cornelius Fudge, and Dolores Umbridge. “I wish. It’s … not always like that. Not even close. But it is something that I think most believe in.”

He shook his head before Daenerys could press for details, then pivoted the conversation. “If your plan is to return to Westeros, will we be heading to Meereen? Perhaps to gain whatever support you can and to find a ship?”

Daenerys shook her head slightly. “Even with my claim … and dragons … it’s unlikely that after landing in Westeros I’ll receive more than cautious support, even among those who were loyal to my family. That isn’t the plan, at least not yet. The dragons are still small.”

Ser Jorah leaned forward slightly. “The plan is to head east. To Qarth.”

Harry blinked. His mental map twisted, adjusting to the new information, trying to remember where Qarth was on the map they had been given. He turned to Jon, who looked equally caught off guard.

“Qarth?” Jon repeated, incredulous. “That’s weeks and weeks across the desert.”

Ser Jorah scoffed. “Months, more likely.”

Jon shook his head. “Even at a slower pace than the one Harry and I had set, we could reach Meereen in just over a week. That’s a fraction of the time. And it’s a port, so it should do the trick. Ships. Supplies. Trade. What is in Qarth that you won’t find in Meereen.”

Daenerys raised her hand, halting the Dothraki who looked ready to fight with Jon just for disagreeing with her. She looked between Jon and Ser Jorah, then addressed them both.

“I believe the red comet we saw last night was a sign,” she said firmly. “A sign to head east.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, holding back a scoff. Signs. He’d seen plenty of prophecies and signs in his time—and had come to treat them with healthy skepticism.

“But even setting the comet aside,” she continued, “there are practical reasons. The path to Meereen is not safe. Many of Drogo’s former bloodriders now ride independently, and they would see me as a prize to bring back to Vaes Dothrak. If I’m caught, they’ll bind me and offer me to the dosh khaleen. And the Seven only know what would become of my dragons.”

Her voice was calm, but the steel beneath it was undeniable.

“So while it may have been possible for the two of you to cover that distance unnoticed I doubt my entire group would.”

Jon folded his arms but didn’t argue further, accepting her logic.

“Besides the fact that we will all likely be safer in the Red Waste, lost among the dunes,” Daenerys said, her voice calm but assured, “there’s another reason I’ve chosen Qarth.”

She turned slightly and glanced at one of her handmaids. The woman nodded subtly, and Daenerys continued.

“Qarth is known for its wealth … and its influence,” she said. “Both of which I will need if I am to ever reach Westeros.”

“And,” Daenerys said, her gaze moving to Harry, “I have no desire to cause more pain than necessary to the smallfolk of Westeros. That’s why I won’t rush there with barely-hatched dragons and empty promises.”

She paused, looking back toward the faint, warm glow of the morning sun, before looking to a large pillow that was sitting behind her, where her dragons slept curled together.

“When I return to Westeros,” she said softly, “I will do so with power none can deny. With dragons fully grown. With a force that will make even the most stubborn lords bow—so that I won’t have to burn them.”

Harry met her gaze. There was something raw in her voice. Not just ambition, but a purpose.

“I don’t entirely agree with using fear,” he said quietly. “But I do understand wanting to be strong enough not to be ignored.”

Harry looked into the fire, considering her words. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jon shifting slightly beside him, his brow furrowing in what Harry knew was a brewing protest.

But before Jon could speak, Harry cut in. “All things considered, that seems reasonable.”

Jon let out a low sigh, and Harry could feel his stare, but didn’t look back at him.

After a pause, Jon muttered, “Fine.”

Daenerys glanced between them, amused. When she saw no further objections from her council or warriors, a real smile broke through the serious expression that she had maintained the entire discussion.

“I’m happy everyone seems to be on board with this plan,” she said.

She stood and dismissed the remaining Dothraki. Most left reluctantly, with narrowed eyes and low murmurs, but they obeyed her command, bowing to her as they left.

As the area eventually emptied, leaving Daenerys and Ser Jorah with the two of them. She turned back to the two foreign boys seated across from her.

“I already spoke to Harry briefly this morning,” she said, her tone shifting to something more curious, more personal. Her violet eyes turned toward Jon. “But I would truly like to know more about you both, especially the circumstances that brought you here.”

Jon looked visibly uncomfortable. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight, clearly not eager to have a personal conversation with her.

Harry caught the look and gave a shrug, taking the lead. “Well … it probably started several months ago,” he said, voice casual as he leaned back slightly. “When I ran into, and ended up saving, one of the daughters of one of Lord Stark’s men. She was on the road just outside Winterfell … alone. A group of bandits had found her first.”

Daenerys paled slightly as she blinked blinked. “You saved her?”

Harry gave a small laugh. “Yeah. Bit of a mess, really. It wasn’t an encounter I was prepared for and honestly I was lucky more than anything. Took a blade to the leg, but I managed to get her back to Winterfell alive. And after that … well, they took me in. Patched me up, gave me a place to stay. And from there, things … escalated.”

Jon laughed slightly, as Daenerys rested her chin lightly on her hand, interested. “How so?”

Kind Regards,

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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 – Will certainly go later into Harry and Daenerys (and who she reminds him of) but who do you think he is thinking of?

Story Note 2 – Looks like off to Qarth! Had originally wanted to just move them right to Meereen and then off to Westeros but my reasonings are the same as Daenerys. I certainly think there are a bunch of good reasons to have her go that way. Most importantly of which would likely be having Harry in the same city as the House of the Undying … that should make for a fun chapter. For any who are worried about the chapter, don’t be the visit will certainly be different and shorter than her previous visit.

Story Note 3 – And on the note of next chapter, rather than write a million chapters about them crossing the Red Waste there will be one chapter where Harry and Daenerys will have some time to themselves but the next couple chapters will be catching us up and setting up what is going on in Westeros. Obviously the events in the capital went slightly different this time around and with the girls being in the North I imagine things are changing up there as well.

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.

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.