The Winter Wizard - Chapter 23 - A Dock Fight

 Story Warning - This chapter will include a fight scene that is slightly more graphic than previous fights. Avoid if that would make you uncomfortable.

The corridor beyond Ned Stark’s solar was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows against the cold stone walls. Harry led the way, clutching the invisibility-charmed rug tightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Jon followed closely behind him, Arya and Sansa between them. The sisters were uncharacteristically quiet, their faces pale and tense. Although to their credit they moved as one, careful to keep their steps light.

"Stay close," Harry whispered. His green eyes scanned the dimly lit hallway ahead as they moved down the hallways, crouched low and moving slowly. The faint sound of footsteps and muffled voices carried from distant chambers, reminding them of the dangers lurking around every corner.

They crept past their rooms, the familiarity of their surroundings doing little to soothe their nerves. Suddenly, Arya froze, gripping Harry’s sleeve.

"Look!" she hissed, pointing ahead. Ser Meryn Trant, his face a mask of arrogance, strode purposefully toward the hallway that contained their rooms room. The knight’s polished armor glinted in the faint light, a stark contrast to the menace in his demeanor.

Sansa opened her mouth, ready to say something to him, but Harry and Jon both moved quickly. Jon clamped a hand gently over her mouth, and Harry leaned close, whispering urgently, "Don’t. He’s not here to help."

Sansa’s blue eyes widened, a mixture of fear and confusion flickering across her face. She nodded slowly, and Jon removed his hand. They waited, breath held, as Ser Meryn passed by, his heavy boots echoing ominously in the silence. When he turned a corner and disappeared, Harry exhaled slowly and gestured for them to continue. “Let’s move,” he murmured, barely audible. “We need to be quick.”

They crept down the hallway, narrowly avoiding another encounter as a pair of guards rounded a corner. Arya’s hand slipped into Harry’s, her grip firm. She was uncharacteristically silent, her usual boldness tempered by the obvious danger surrounding them.

By the time they made it to the courtyard, Harry felt like every nerve in his body was frayed. The gates loomed ahead, a tantalizing promise of freedom. But first, they had to get past the guards stationed there.

“Stay close,” Harry whispered, adjusting the rug to ensure they were all covered. His free hand gripped his wand tightly beneath his cloak, ready to cast a disillusionment charm or a stunning spell if necessary.

One of the guards turned towards them his eyes scanning the courtyard before looking back to his partner. “Thought I heard something,” he muttered.

“Probably just the wind,” the other replied, though his tone was uncertain. “Just make sure no one tries to leave.”

Harry’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He kept moving, guiding the group inch by agonizing inch until they finally slipped past the gates and into the city beyond. Only when they were a safe distance away did Harry allow them to step out from under the rug.

“That was …” Arya began, her voice shaking slightly, before she trailed off.

Jon looked between Harry and the rug that had been thrown on the ground. “Harry I don’t know if we would have been able to make it out of there without your help but what in the Seven Hells is going on? You said we could ask questions once we were out."

Arya and Sansa, both pale and shaken, stared at Harry with wide eyes. But it was Sansa who managed to speak first. “That rug—what you did to it—it was magic, wasn’t it? Like what you did before?”

“Not here,” he said firmly, glancing around. “We need to get to the docks. The sooner we’re out of here, the safer we’ll be. And I promise I’ll answer any questions you have once we’re on the ship.”

Sansa, Arya, and Jon exchanged uneasy glances but followed without protest. The narrow streets twisted and turned, the oppressive air of King’s Landing after dark weighing heavily on them. Sansa’s nose wrinkled at the smell, and she clung to Arya’s arm for comfort. Arya, though usually braver, kept close to Jon, her sharp eyes scanning every shadow.

A man stumbled out of a nearby tavern, his laughter harsh and slurred. He caught sight of them and leered, but Jon stepped forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The man hesitated, muttering something unintelligible before disappearing back into the night.

“This place is horrid,” she muttered, clutching Arya’s arm as they navigated the narrow streets.

Even Arya, who was usually fearless, seemed subdued, her eyes darting to every shifting shadow. “How do people live like this?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically small.

“They don’t have a choice,” Jon said grimly, his tone curt but not unkind, keeping a protective hand near his sword. “Just stay close, Harry’s right, we need to get to the ship.”

Finally, they reached the docks. The air here was damp and salty, a welcome relief from the city’s stench. Jory Cassel emerged from the shadows, his expression grim but relieved to see them.

“You made it,” he said, his voice low. “The ship’s just about ready. We need to board quickly.”

Harry nodded. “Lead the way.”

Jory led them at a brisk pace, weaving through stacks of cargo and bustling sailors. The sight of their ship brought a palpable wave of relief to everyone, though the girls’ excitement grew tenfold when a familiar sound reached their ears.

“Nymeria!” Arya exclaimed, her voice filled with joy as the whining and soft growls of direwolves echoed from the ship. Sansa’s face lit up at the sound of Lady’s softer whimpers. Both girls broke into a run, darting up the gangplank with the eagerness of children reunited with their closest companions.

Harry and Jon exchanged a quick glance, a momentary relief shared between them as the girls disappeared onto the ship. That moment shattered as Harry dropped to his knees, a strangled gasp escaping his lips.

“Harry?” Jon crouched beside him, his hand hovering uncertainly.

The world dissolved around Harry as an unbearable, full-body burning pain coursed through him. It was as if he were on fire, every nerve screaming in agony. The sensation vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by an icy cold that seeped into his bones. His breath frosted in the air, and his vision blurred until only a flickering light remained.

The docks were gone. Harry found himself staring back towards the city of King’s Landing, the city engulfed in flames. Orange and red flames seemed to light the sky, and the heat was suffocating. For a moment, he panicked, thinking the wildfire stores had erupted, but his eyes were drawn upward.

A shadow passed across the firelit sky. A girl—a woman—he’d seen before in his visions rode a massive dragon, its scales shimmering due to the flames. As Harry stared, she commanded the beast with a cry, and the dragon unleashed torrents of fire upon the city. The destruction was horrifying, yet Harry couldn’t tear his gaze away.

The scene shifted. The woman was no longer commanding the dragon but writhing in agony, her face contorted with pain and despair. Her cries echoed in his mind, a haunting sound that made his chest ache.

And then, just as suddenly, she was gone.

The vision dissolved again, leaving Harry in an icy wasteland. He recognized it instantly—Winterfell, frozen and desolate. The mighty castle stood as a lonely silhouette against a pale, frozen landscape. Ice coated the walls, the grounds, everything, and an eerie silence hung in the air.

Then … a hand gripped his shoulder, jolting him back to reality.

“Harry, get up,” Jon said urgently, his voice low and intense. “We’ve got trouble.”

Harry blinked, disoriented, before the real world came rushing back. The burning pain, the freezing cold—they were gone, replaced by the chaos of the docks. Jon hauled him to his feet, and Harry shook his head to clear the lingering haze.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, his voice hoarse.

Jon nodded toward the edge of the pier. A group of ten men was approaching, their weapons drawn and their intent unmistakably hostile. Harry turned, his stomach sinking as he saw another group of ten closing in from the opposite direction.

“We’re surrounded,” Jon said grimly.

Harry forced himself to focus, gripping his wand tightly. “We need to buy the girls time to get away.”

Jon’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Agreed.” He turned and shouted back toward the ship, “Jory! Get the captain to set sail! Now!”

Jory spun around halfway up the gangplank and froze, his eyes darting between the approaching attackers and Jon. “What about you?” he called back.

“Your mission is to protect the girls, not die on the dock!” Jon bellowed. “Go now!”

Jory hesitated, clearly torn, but the urgency in Jon’s tone made his decision. With a curt nod, he turned and disappeared over the railing onto the ship.

The gangplank creaked as it was kicked away, and Harry heard the faint shouts of the captain barking orders. The ship began to move, slowly at first, the oars dipping into the water in unison.

Harry turned his attention back to the encroaching enemies, his mind racing. “Do you think the two of us can hold them off?”

Jon gave him a grim look, gripping the handle of his sword tightly. Before he could answer, a blur of white fur leapt from the departing ship’s deck, landing gracefully beside them on the dock. Ghost’s red eyes gleamed in the moonlight, his teeth bared in a menacing growl as he lowered himself into a crouch.

Jon’s expression changed instantly, a smile breaking across his face. “The two of us?” he said, his voice lighter now as he drew his sword. “Maybe. But I think the three of us surely can.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin back as he raised his wand. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

The first wave of attackers lunged at them, their blades flashing. Harry moved quickly, his wand slashing through the air as he fired a series of stunning and cutting spells. Red bolts of light struck the nearest men, sending them sprawling to the ground before they could close the distance.

Jon met the next attacker with his blade, parrying a blow and spinning around to deliver a sharp riposte that cut the man down. Another came at him, but Ghost darted forward, his powerful jaws clamping onto the man’s arm and dragging him down with a yelp. The direwolf finished him with a vicious snap, blood staining his white fur.

Harry kept his focus, firing spell after spell. A blasting curse threw two men off their feet, the explosion leaving scorch marks on the dock. Another disarming spell sent a sword spinning into the water. He noticed Jon fending off two attackers at once, his sword moving with surprising speed and precision.

Jon wasn’t just holding his own—he was thriving. He moved with the grace of a seasoned fighter against the men who were several years older than him, his strikes purposeful and efficient. Harry felt a flicker of admiration as he watched Jon sidestep an incoming blow and counter with a slash that left his opponent crumpled on the ground.

Ghost was a blur of white fury, leaping from foe to foe with deadly precision. His growls and snarls filled the air, a stark warning to anyone who dared approach. He tackled another attacker, tearing into him before turning to face the next.

Despite their efforts, the attackers kept coming. Harry found himself dodging a blade as one man lunged at him. He instinctively thrust out his wand, shouting, “Expulso!” The spell hit the man square in the chest, sending him flying backward into the group behind him.

“They’re not stopping,” Harry muttered, his heart pounding.

“They’re apparently desperate to stop us,” Jon replied, his voice steady despite the sweat on his brow. He glanced back toward the water. “But look—the girls are almost out.”

Harry turned briefly, his chest swelling with relief as he saw the ship nearing the mouth of the bay. Its sails were fully unfurled now, catching the wind and carrying it further from danger. He could make out Arya and Sansa on the deck, their figures small but unmistakable.

Bringing their attention back to the fight at hand, Ghost let out a fierce howl, charging at another attacker who had tried to take advantage of their momentary distraction and had tried to sneak up on them. The man screamed as the direwolf took him down, leaving no doubt as to who had the upper hand.

The attackers hesitated now, their movements less coordinated. Harry could see the doubt creeping into their faces as their numbers dwindled. He seized the moment, raising his wand and conjuring a wall of fire that cut off a group of them. The flames roared, their heat intense enough to make the remaining men stagger back.

“Go!” one of them shouted, his voice panicked. “Fall back!”

The group began to retreat, their courage broken. Harry kept his wand raised, ready for another attack, but none came. The dock was littered with bodies, the air thick with the smell of blood and smoke.

Jon lowered his sword, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. “They’re running.” Jon smiled, a rare look of satisfaction on his face. “I honestly didn’t expect to survive this.”

Harry chuckled breathlessly.

Ghost trotted back to them, his muzzle stained red but his eyes sharp and alert. He nudged Jon’s leg, and Jon reached down to scratch behind his ears.

“Good boy,” Jon murmured, his voice soft with affection.

Harry turned to look at the bay, his heart finally slowing as he saw the ship disappearing into the distance. It was safe now, far beyond the reach of their attackers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Jon turned to him, his expression sharp yet thoughtful as he cleaned the blood from his sword with a piece of cloth. Ghost, still at his side, licked his bloodied muzzle and sniffed the air warily.

“We need to get off this dock,” Jon said, breaking the silence. “Either into the city or onto another ship. If they regroup and come back with more men, we’re dead. And we need to figure out how to get north.”

Harry paused, leaning on the railing to catch his breath. His body ached from the fight, his mind still spinning with the visions. He turned to Jon and shook his head slowly. “I can’t go north with you.”

Jon’s face hardened, his dark eyebrows knitting together. “What do you mean you can’t go? What are you talking about?”

Harry hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve been having visions, Jon. Ever since I came to … well, ever since I came to Winterfell, they’ve been growing stronger. Tonight ... I saw another one, right before we were about to board the ship. Doom is coming for this world. For Westeros. And I need to find someone who can stop it before it’s too late—for Westeros or for her.”

“Her?” Jon echoed, frowning deeply. “Who is ‘her’?”

“I … don’t know,” Harry admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “But I’ve seen her a handful of times in my visions. A girl, a woman—she’s riding a dragon, Jon.

Jon eyes shot up and he scoffed as he opened his mouth to reply, but Harry cut him off.

“Yes I know … the dragons died out years ago but I know what I was. She’s powerful and I think she’s the key to saving this world, but ... she’s in pain. She’s lost. And the longer she goes her own way the more pain she will endure.”

Jon studied Harry, his face unreadable. “If it were anyone else, I’d call you craven or mad,” he said finally. “But Lord Stark trusted you. And you’ve proven yourself. If you believe this is what you need to do, then I’ll trust you too. But once we find this person, we head to the North immediately. Even with Sansa and Arya out of King’s Landing, the North is still in danger.”

Jon’s voice faltered, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. “Especially if ... if something happens to my father.”

Harry nodded solemnly, understanding the weight of Jon’s words. “Agreed. I’ll do what I need to do, but we’ll come back to the North. I owe your family that much.”

Jon’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gave Harry a curt nod. “Good. Then let’s move before they return.”

Harry glanced back at the dark waters where the girls’ ship was now a faint speck against the horizon. An idea struck him. “What if we take another ship out of the harbor?” he suggested. “If two ships leave at the same time, it might throw them off if they try to pursue us to retrieve your sisters. They won’t know which one to follow.”

Jon considered this, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the nearby vessels. “That might work. But we’ll need to act fast.”

Harry and Jon ran down the dock, their boots echoing against the weathered wood. The air was heavy with salt and the faint stench of rotting fish. Most ships were silent, their crews long gone to the taverns or their hammocks, leaving Harry and Jon frustrated with every empty vessel they passed. Ghost padded beside them, his red eyes gleaming in the dim light, ever watchful.

They struck out several times, finding only shuttered ships or crews too drunk to even consider setting sail. Harry clenched his fists in frustration. Time was slipping away, and with each passing moment, their attackers were likely regrouping. Finally, as they reached the far end of the dock, they spotted a medium-sized merchant vessel where a handful of crew members were still loading barrels and crates onto the deck.

Jon glanced at Harry. “This might be our last chance.”

Harry nodded, approaching the gangplank with determination. A wiry man with a thick beard and a suspicious glare stepped forward to block their path. He crossed his arms and barked, “What do you two want?”

“We need passage to Essos,” Harry said, his voice steady but urgent. “Tonight.”

“You’re in luck as we are sailing to Essos …” But then the man paused before laughed harshly. “But tonight? You’ve lost your bloody minds. We’re not ready to sail. Come back tomorrow and we can discuss it.”

Harry didn’t budge. “We’ll pay you whatever price you name. Gold, as much as you require. And double that amount when we land.”

The man stopped laughing, his eyes narrowing. He sized up Harry and Jon, then glanced over their shoulders toward the other end of the dock. “We heard some commotion a little while ago. That was you wasn’t it. You’re running from something,” he said, his tone cautious. “Something big. Why should I risk my ship and my crew for you?”

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the pouches of gold dragons that Lord Stark had given him. He opened it just enough for the man to see the glint of coins. The man’s eyes widened, his suspicion giving way to greed. Harry pressed on.

“You’ll be well compensated,” Harry promised. “And you have my word, we’ll pay the rest when we land.”

The man hesitated, then shrugged. “Fine. But you know what’ll happen if you don’t pay the rest in Essos, right? Slavers don’t ask questions where you came from.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

The man smirked, then turned and shouted up to the deck. “Change of plans, boys! We’re leaving tonight!”

This was met with groans and protests from the crew, many of whom had been looking forward to a final night of drinking and revelry in the city. The captain silenced them with a raised hand.

“You’ll get three times your usual wage,” he announced, holding up the pouch Harry had handed over. The sight of the gold was enough to turn grumbles into cheers. The men quickly sprang into action, hoisting crates and barrels aboard with newfound enthusiasm.

While the crew prepared the ship, Harry turned to Jon. “I’ll be right back, I need to take care of something.”

Jon frowned. “What?”

Harry gestured toward the bustling dock. “Even with two ships leaving the logical idea would be for the girls to have headed North. I need to throw them off their trail.”

Before Jon could protest, Harry slipped away into the shadows. He wandered among the dockworkers and sailors that he bumped into, striking up conversations in hushed tones. With careful words and a few well-placed coins, he began to spread a rumor.

“I saw the Stark girls,” he whispered to one dockhand. “Boarding a ship for Essos not an hour ago. Looked like they were in a hurry.”

Harry repeated the story to a few others, weaving it into the fabric of the dock’s nightly gossip. Satisfied, he slipped back toward the ship, avoiding the growing clusters of men murmuring about the supposed Stark girls, one of who was supposed to be marrying the Prince, fleeing across the Narrow Sea.

By the time he returned to the merchant vessel, the crew had nearly finished their preparations. Jon was waiting near the gangplank, his arms crossed and his expression tight with worry.

Jon nodded reluctantly. “Let’s just hope it works.”

They boarded the ship as the crew finished tying down the last of the cargo. The captain barked orders, and the sails were unfurled. Slowly, the ship began to move, gliding away from the dock and into the dark waters of Blackwater Bay.

Harry stood at the railing, watching the lights of King’s Landing grow smaller in the distance. The weight of their escape and the journey ahead pressed heavily on his shoulders. He could feel Jon’s eyes on him, filled with questions he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Thank you,” Harry said quietly.

“For what?” Jon asked.

“For trusting me,” Harry replied. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

Jon shrugged, his gaze turning to the horizon. “If Lord Stark trusted you, that’s enough for me. But you’ll need to earn it, Harry. North is my home. If you abandon us when the North needs you, I’ll never forgive you.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised. “We’ll come back. I swear it.”

Kind Regards,

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Story Note 1 – And they made it out of the city safely! Whew! Sansa and Arya heading North and Jon and Harry heading across the Narrow Sea to Essos. Hopefully it doesn’t take them too long to find Daenerys as I imagine things are certainly going to get significantly worse for those in Westeros … especially poor Ned Stark. Can’t imagine the Queen will be happy to lose her hostages. Just hope he has a chance to chat with the King …

Story Note 2 – Certainly had fun writing the fight scene and for the most part I think it came off really well. Although I am waiting for the feedback. In general I find it a little difficult to write Harry as extremely violent in a fight using spells/curses that would kill as that isn’t the Harry that I see in canon as other than Bellatrix I don’t think he ever used a spell meant to main or kill. But I felt in this case with Arya’s, Sansa’s, and their own life in danger Harry would have been a little more aggressive. Also this was the first time I wrote a fight including an animal so I hope that part came off alright (especially liked writing the beginning where Ghost jumped off the ship).

Story Note 3 – Just for clarity, obviously Jon came South with Ghost and when Jory saw Jon he kept Ghost hidden as that would have been a clear give-away that one of Ned’s kids arrived in King’s Landing and wouldn’t have taken Varys/Cersei/Littlefinger long to put that together. And then once Jory brought Lady and Nymeria to the boat at Lord Starks orders he also brought Ghost there as well. I didn’t want to write that all out last chapter as I wanted it to be a surprise. Hope it was well received!

Story Note 4 – Finally as for the fight on the dock and no one rushing to their aid or to inspect. This was mainly two fold. First of all I think a lot of sailors/people from that time would be familiar with the sound of the fight and would not feel the need to stick their nose in to inspect what was going on. And secondly, I would imagine that a dock that was large enough to support King’s Landing would have to be fairly large and as such by the time they reached the ship that they ended up buying passage on they were far enough away that no one who was on it managed to see anything through the mess of ships and supplies in between them.

Story Note 5 - As for the story warning - unsure as to whether it was necessary but just in case. Thought it would be reasonable to provide.

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.