Hi guys sorry for the wait. When I decided to turn this into a full story I needed to make sure I gave just as much honor to George R. R. Martin's world as I give to J. K. Rowlings. This meant I had to mesh my own storyline into the artwork that is the Song of Ice and Fire. I hope that you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed planning and writing it out. A toast to the first chapter of many! (Also you fuckers better leave reviews)

As much as it might have seemed to be, it wasn't sudden. Harry hacked into his gloved fist for what felt like the hundredth time since he'd left the house shortly after lunch. Specks of vibrantly red blood coated the tan glove he was wearing. He'd had the cough since forever, well truly only the last three months, perhaps a little longer, but usually pepper up made it go away for a few days. It wasn't the only sign but Harry had never liked going to the hospital or even asking for help in general and had pushed off the other symptoms as well. His sore joints could be attributed to old quidditch injuries and the weather change, he was only eighteen after all its not like it could be anything else, he was healthy, Madam Poppy gave him a full checkup not five days after the Battle only half a year ago. Then again the random chills didn't seem to indicate good health neither did the persistent cough, even if he did just put it off as a mild reoccurring cold.

Now though leaning against the brick wall of Flourish and Blotts, under a 'notice me not' in the middle of December, trying to catch his breath in between coughing fits he had to admit something was truly wrong. With that in mind he released the 'notice me not' and decided to make his way to the Leaky. He'd floo over to St. Mungos for a quick check up and a prescription potion so that he could kick this. Even as he thought it Harry knew it was far more serious than that.

Trudging through the cold and wet grey brown sludge that served as their snow Harry felt as though he couldn't catch his breath. Every time he breathed in he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He coughed again catching the attention of those around him even as he tried to pull his thermal cap down further over his forehead to hide away the white colored scar that rested there. His vision slowly became a bit hazier and he rubbed at his eyes. He'd gotten them fixed less than a month after the Battle 'cause Theo said he liked his eyes. Wait Theo? Pink haze clouded his mind, it wasn't Theo who liked his eyes it was Ginny. He loved Ginny. He had to get home, he didn't like being away from home for long periods of time. He coughed again, pain searing through his chest and he stumbled, dropping the gift he'd gotten for Ginny.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd gotten it for her. It was a book, a rather old book, on ancient runes. Ginny didn't like runes but it felt right to give it to her anyways, like a little niggling in the back of his head that someone he loved would like it, and he only loved her after all. He shoved the book back into his bag and tried to stand before falling, unable to muster the strength. Hands caught him before his head slammed into the ground.

"Harry?" a voice asked questioningly from what seemed like far away. Harry tried to look up at the blurry figure of the speaker. They had red hair like Ron did, and they were still speaking, their lips moving but Harry couldn't hear the words.

"Ron?" Harry tried to say but he couldn't get the air for words. Why did he want it to be Ron anyways? He didn't like Ron, he liked Ron's sister, no loved her. That's why he married her so fast even when Ron and Hermione couldn't be there. They'd gone to Australia and left him behind with….. With Theo? Why Theo? Even as Harry's systems shut down his eyes suddenly widened with realization. He loved Theo! Why was he with Ginny? Why did he marry her? What did Theo think? That he'd left him? Would he really think Harry so cruel? The edges of Harry's vision faded to black and he passed silently, seemingly calmly even as his mind screamed, as though he fell asleep in the middle of a nightmare.

George panicked the moment Harry fell unconscious in his arms. He'd come outside the store when he'd seen the man trudging past, not quite certain that it was Harry. He had barely seen the man since Ginny and him had eloped. Something he still wasn't quite sure on, given that he'd been betting with… Fred that Harry would come out as gay after Harry'd broken up with Ginny that first time. He'd seen that kiss and just knew. No straight red blooded male who thought he might be kissing the girl he loved for the last time would stop at a small peck. Fred hadn't believed him but George was pretty sure that that was only because he didn't want to get his hopes up. Looking down at the man who had been breathless and delirious before passing out, calling him Ron, George made a split second decision and apparated.

The entire Weasley family was in the waiting room, including Hermione and with the exclusion of Ginny who hadn't been home and hadn't responded to multiple patroni messages. The healer came into the room and the entire family perked up, only to fill with dread as the doctor pulled the door closed behind him and turned the blinds closed as well.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Potter was pronounced dead ten minutes ago after the fourth attempt of resuscitation," the healer said. Mrs. Weasley immediately burst into tears, and Mr. Weasley pulled her close to comfort her.

"What was it?" Hermione asked. "He didn't like hospitals but I always thought that if he got sick enough for…. Something like this to happen, he'd have gone in before it got so bad."

"We're unsure," the healer said. "He didn't respond to any of the treatments that normally work for lung infections. That leaves a very few things that it might possibly be, none of which he had symptoms for. Dragon Pox causes lung scarring and breathing difficulty but he didn't present with a rash, for that same reason we ruled out Flying Virus something we checked for immediately after going through the more common ones given what we knew about his propensity for high speed broom flying."

"Flying Virus?" Hermione as the only non-magical born in the room.

"Generally only professional quidditch players have to worry about getting Flying Virus. It's not so much a virus as it is a condition. Players that fly at extreme speeds or do fast paced dives can get particles of dust and such slammed so fast into the bodies when breathing its almost as though they sat in a cloud of dust for hours, just breathing in," the healer said. "But he didn't have the rash associated with it." Hermione opened her mouth to ask and the healer interrupted with the answer before she could. "As magical's our bodies attempt to fight off such things, the immune response for most lung conditions is a red spotted rash not unlike the muggle disease chicken pox."

"You said you didn't know what it was though," Ron pointed out.

"Yes, we don't know what it was," the healer said. "That doesn't mean we don't know what it wasn't. However not knowing leaves us vulnerable. Although it doesn't seem likely given the fact that we've not seen any other cases like this in the past few days that doesn't mean we won't be in the future if this is something viral or otherwise contagious in some way. We'd like permission to perform a full autopsy. I've pulled his medical file and am to the understanding that one Hermione Jane Granger is Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black's medical proxy despite his recent marriage." The healer nodded in the direction of Hermione, extending a clipboard with a black and red quill attached to it. "That would be you would it not?" he asked not unkindly, but still in a seemingly detached clinical manner.

"Yes," Hermione said, taking the clipboard after a moment of awkward silence. Swallowing heavily she asked, "Where do I sign?"

That evening the burrow was filled with members of the Weasley family and former members of the Order of the Phoenix, including the current Minister of Magic one Kingsley Shaklebolt, along with several magical HAZMAT crew members. Only one person was missing, or rather two, Harry Potter, and his as of two hours ago widowed wife Ginerva Potter nee Weasley. Several patronus messages had been sent to the woman who seemed to either be ignoring them, or perhaps not receiving them at all. Ron and Hermione had attempted to Floo over to Grimmauld Place, which Harry had been fixing up since the end of the battle, and where Ginny had moved in after marrying Harry but like every other time they had tried since returning from Australia they'd bounced off Floo wards.

The group had become increasingly worried that perhaps Ginerva had also gotten whatever kind of infection Harry had gotten and was unable to even answer their patronus messages.

"Alright Martins open them up," Kingsley said. "And remember nobody goes through till the MHC gives the all clear," he continued, and the former Order members nodded as the MHC members checked their gear and their semi-permanent bubblehead charms.

"They're down sir," the man named Martins said, and the MHC members were quick to go through. Less than five minutes later an unbubbled head peered through the fireplace to give the all clear. The Weasley's and Order members almost trampled each other trying to get through the Floo at once. Only to be treated to the half dressed Dean Thomas trying to hurriedly do up his pants and put on his shirt, whilst Ginny stood shamefaced as her family flooed in holding her robe the MHC was gone, along with Dean, and Ginny was finally dressed, Mr. Weasley turned on his daughter.

"Pray that I may ask daughter," Arthur said, "What exactly do you think you're doing sleeping with another man, when you are married? And might I add when you newly married given that you eloped not more than four months ago without telling any of your family. A family you've seen fit to ignore and pretend doesn't exist since said elopement."

"Why do you care?" Ginny hissed. "It's my marriage, and Harry almost caught Ernie last time and barely even noticed, he's so oblivious. How is it my fault that he can't seem to get it up for sex? If he doesn't like that I have to be satisfied by someone else maybe he should step up to the plate!"

"Maybe if you noticed that he was sick it wouldn't have ended up like this!" George burst out unable to hold back his grief any longer. He'd only just finished getting over Fred's death, not that he'd ever be able to get over it but he was functioning and running the shop again, and now he had lost another brother.

"Well he can tell me that when he's better then," Ginny harrumphed not seeming to care.

"He's not getting any better you little bitch," Hermione hissed, "Cause he's fucking dead, and you were to busy fucking the whole fucking magical world to even notice." Hermione stomped away followed quickly by Ron and then the others who gave disappointed looks in Ginny's direction. No one seemed to notice the sudden smug look that Ginny wore when the shock of what she'd been told wore off. Only minutes after the last person left she was walking out the door in a small black dress and a fashionable black hat and matching veil.

"What do you mean!" Ginny shouted at the goblin. "I'm his wife! The entire Wizarding World knows that we eloped on August twenty-first, it was in all the papers the moment the marriage certificate was filed!"

"That mean's nothing to us," the goblin said. "As his will contains a message to the entire wizarding world we are required to do the reading on our front steps with an attendee from Wizarding Waves Daily radio station. We have set the date for December twenty-first as I said before and there will be no pre-readings. If your name is mentioned in the will you will be able to collect what you have been left that afternoon. Now kindly leave these halls or I will have you removed," the goblin said kindly. Ginerva stomped off not noticing the witch quickly scribbling down notes as she watched the recently widowed wife of Harry Potter. Not even twenty-four hours after the Man-Who-Conquered's Death and she has a full scoop. A member of Britains MHC had given her the scoop on the girls cheating not twenty minutes before at the price of ten galleons. She snorted. This story was worth ten times that amount, and would launch her into stardom.

For a week the papers vilified Ginerva Potter nee Weasley both for her infidelity, and seemingly callous disregard for the death of her husband, and greediness she'd displayed in immediately going to the goblins to find out the contents of his will. Her dirty laundry was cycle washed, aired, cycled and aired again. Then came the results of one Harry James Potter's autopsy.

The press conference took place upon the steps of St. Mungos. Healer Denzel, Minister Shackleboat, and the Head of the Aurors, Gawain Robards, stood upon the raised platform as the media took pictures and listened close to take notes. Healer Denzel stepped up to the podium and tapped his wand to his throat so that everyone would be able to hear his voice.

"On December fourteenth of this year, one Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black was transported to our emergency entrance via apparation of one George Gideon Weasley hereby referred to as Patient and Citizen for the duration of this press conference. The Citizen had reported that he had approached the Patient in Diagon Alley outside his well known store. He reported to seeing the Patient cough and drop some of the items he was carrying. Upon picking up the items the Patient seemingly lost strength and began to fall. The Citizen reported that he caught the Patient before he could hit his head but that the Patient seemed out of breath and delirious calling the Citizen by the name of his younger brother instead of his own," the healer took a breath and a drink from the glass that sat on he podium.

"A full workup was done upon the Patient when the Citizen brought him in. The Citizen then called family members and sat in the waiting area with them quietly. Myself and several of my colleagues attempted to ascertain the issue behind the Patient's lung problems, after putting him on a magical ventilator. All common causes were ruled out, followed immediately by all uncommon causes. We attempted to start the Patient on several magical antibiotics, and when that had no effect magical corticosteroids. Despite these efforts the Patient continued to decline, his heart stopping no less than three times. Each time he was resuscitated in only a few minutes. At exactly four twenty-three pm. the Patient was declared deceased after his heart stopped for the fourth time and twenty minutes of attempted resuscitation," the healer paused again taking a deep breath and gripping the podium in his hands tightly.

"After informing the Patient's family that he had passed away we gained permission from his medical proxy to perform an autopsy to figure out the exact reason the Patient had passed in order to ascertain if there was a public health risk. While we are pleased to inform you all that there is in fact no Health risk we are very sorry for the loss and grief to his family," with that the healer stepped back from the podium allowing Gawain Robards to take his place.

"It is indeed a great loss," Gawain began. "Made even more so by the fact that at the end of the autopsy the coroner, had no choice but to contact the Auror Department and declare the death of Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black a homicide. We would like the public to be aware that this investigation, is ongoing. This means that no unofficial statements can be corroborated at this time. A press conference will occur on the steps of Gringotts shortly following the will reading of Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black on the twenty-first of December, two days from now. Thank-you," the Head of the Auror department stepped back ignoring the questions that flew from all angles as reporters shouted and repeated themselves to be heard. The Minister stepped forward next.

"Quiet down please," Kingsley asked and slowly the crowd quieted. "Thank-you. As Head Auror Robards just explained, the death of Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black has been labeled a homicide. I have every faith that the Auror department and it's investigators will serve justice swiftly. We ask that the public stay out of this. We understand your grief. Mr. Potter was a hero to our world, to the entire world even if they don't know his name. However, should anyone be found attempting to interfere with the investigation, whether to be helpful or otherwise you will be arrested, fined and charged for obstruction of justice. Now we are open to taking a few questions but ask that you remain polite and respectful of the victim and his family when asking them." Kingsley waited a moment before choosing the very blond and very recognizable Xenophilius Lovegood.

"I'm Mr. Lovegood with the Quibbler, my question is for Healer Denzel or Head Auror Robards whomever is best to answer. I would like to know if you can reveal to us the cause of death that led to this being ruled a homicide?" Xenophilius asked. It was Robards that stepped forward.

"At this moment in time it is an ongoing investigation so we cannot reveal the manner of death," Robards answered, before pointing at another. The press conference lasted another twenty minutes, and the papers changed again, and not in Ginny Potter nee Weasley's favor. The cold callous and cheating, gold digging scarlet woman as she'd been called for the last week was now referred to as a Black Widow.

It was just after one o'clock on Tuesday, December twenty-first. It seemed as though the entirety of the British Wizarding World was packed into the Alley, and there would be far more sitting at home or in their offices listening intently to the will reading of one Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black. Everyone quieted down as a well dressed goblin exited the bank accompanied by four well armed and armored goblin guards.

"Good day," the goblin said gruffly after waving a hand to cast his own magic to make his voice louder. "Lord Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black purchased the Phantom Figure Will Package the last time he updated his will. This means that rather than me telling you what is in the will I will allow our client to tell you himself." With that the goblin set something on the ground tapped it twice and stepped back. A ghostly figure of Harry Potter appeared in front of the crowd, a recording of his last will.

"Hello, um," the ghostly figure began as awkward in death as he had been in life. "The date is August sixteenth, nineteen ninety-eight, I am Harry James Potter, and as I just learned Lord Potter, Lord Black, and Lord Peverell. I am, as of today, eighteen, and this is my Last Will and testament. Alright that's the official part of it out of the way right?" the figure turned to the left as though someone was standing there. They all knew that Harry had likely asked one of the goblins at the time of the recording as he seemed to nod and then turn back to the crowd. He visibly took a deep breath fingers fidgeting with one another as he pushed his shoulders back and began to speak again.

"I suppose the first thing I want to say, is I hope I got to grow old, but I'm sure that I would have changed this at least a few times before that point. To the Wizarding World, remember you're only as weak as you think you are. Don't rely on someone to come and do something for you, go out and do it yourself. I'm not here now, and you shouldn't go out looking for another hero, be one for yourself," the figure pushed his glasses up, glasses that hadn't been seen on the young man the past few month's he'd been alive.

"On to the stuff I'm sure most of you are actually waiting for," Harry said with a wry grin. "To my godson Teddy, I gift you what is already yours, your birthright. You're Lord Black, if at this point you aren't old enough, I leave all proxy in the care of your grandmother. If Andromeda is unable to take the responsibility I leave all proxy in the care of your godmother, Hermione Jane Granger. To the Weasely's, I gift you each one thousand galleons. I want each of you to use that to get something you want, whether it's a vacation, a wedding budget or a home, use it and remember me with love. To Hermione and Ron, you are my best friends. I will miss you in what Headmaster Dumbledore called the next great adventure, and I'm sure you'll miss me. I've left you an additional two thousand gold galleons each. You can pool it for an extravagant wedding, honeymoon and future home. Last but certainly not least. Theodore Nott, I can't say the words yet, and I hope I can before this point actually happens, but I leave everything else including the Potter and Peverell Lordships to you, and to our legacy. I never thought I'd say that I was ready for something like this, but I am and we'll get there." With a final smile the see through figure of Harry Potter faded away.

"This concludes the reading of the Last Will and Testament for one Lord Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black, we thank you for your time. Those who received something in the will, will be able to collect the key's for their account at our front desk. Be prepared to provide identification," the well-dressed goblin nodded and then returned into the bank, his guards following closely behind. The crowd seemed in shock, quiet and motionless, and then Ginny broke it.

"What! But I married him! I should get it all! Not a measly one thousand galleons!" Ginny shouted obviously unable to stop herself from making an outburst. Kingsley stepped up to the top of the steps to make the promised press conference. By the end of it all, three arrests were made; Ginny Weasley, Ernie Macmillian, and Dean Thomas, and a subpoena to appear in court issued to one Theodore Nott.

"I as Chief Warlock call to order this court on the date of January thirteenth nineteen ninety-nine," Eliphas Doge said. "The charges against the defendant are as follows; one count of involuntary manslaughter, one count of distributing a controlled illegal substance, one count of possession of a controlled illegal substance, one count of creating a controlled illegal substance, three counts of attempted line theft, multiple counts of rape, including marital rape and rape of person unable to give consent under the influence of a controlled substance, how does the defendant plead?" Eliphas asked.

"Not guilty," Ginny said the sneer evident enough in her voice that even those who could not see her face could imagine it. Her lawyer was an older grey haired fellow, with a blank face.

"Chief Warlock we wish to make a motion to dismiss," the lawyer said.

"On what grounds?" Eliphas asked.

"It is my belief that the Aurors focused so solely on my client that they dismissed any evidence pointing elsewhere, including evidence pointing to one Theodore Nott," the lawyer said.

"It is to my understanding that the prosecution intends to call upon Theodore Nott as a star witness against your client. To do that they would have needed to investigate the man fully, I find your reasoning faulty and deny it," Eliphas answered slamming his little gavel on the podium.

"Then I ask for motion to suppress," the lawyer said.

"Proceed," Eliphas answered.

"The statements made by Dean Thomas and Ernie Macmillan upon their release from Auror custody were made with malicious intent. I believe this intent was to attempt to destroy the reputation of my client and wish for them to be suppressed from being brought forth in court," the lawyer said. Eliphas thought for a moment before agreeing.

"Any more motions to be brought forth?" Eliphas asked. There was silence for a moment and he banged his gavel. "Court dismissed till March sixteenth."

"I'm nervous," Theodore said holding his protruding belly. He was over eight months pregnant now, his due date the eleventh of April. Hermione hugged him lightly careful of his bump.

"You got this Theo," Hermione said. "Think about it this way; they can't call you anything that the papers haven't been calling you since the will reading, and since you have to swear a magical oath to be completely truthful they'll know that it wasn't you who dosed Harry with love potion even if the defense is trying to make it seem that way."

"They're entire argument is going to fall apart at the end anyways, you know it and I know it. Either they let Ginny testify, which she'll have to do under oath, and everything will be revealed in the cross, or they don't let her testify and it throws doubt on their entire argument," Ron said. "She might be my sister, but she got herself into this mess, I won't be helping her get out of it. Remember this trial is for her not you, she'll get her due," Theo nodded again.

Theo's testimony and cross took almost six hours. The truth of his entire relationship with Harry was revealed for all to see. They'd met shortly after the Battle for Hogwarts in May. Theo had been thankful to Harry for getting his father arrested and thrown in prison and had written to the green-eyed boy to reveal that he had acknowledged a life debt to him.

Harry had tried to brush it off, that Theo didn't owe him anything but Theo was persistent in his letters, something the defense tried to pounce on. Because of this Theo had to reveal his father's abuse and vitriol that had been launched upon the boy from the moment he could walk, and Theo's own believe that if his father had ever found out his sexual inclinations that he would have killed Theo long before the war was declared over. Theo was forced to explain the words behind each and every letter he sent or received from Harry, all of which had been provided to the prosecution and defense during the discovery. The defense tried to nit pick each and every word alluding to the possibility that it was Theo that had attempted to love potion Harry, something the prosecutor had Theo deny multiple times while reminding the watching Wizenmagot, who served as the jury that he was under oath.

Several times it took Theodore all he had not to break down. He hadn't loved Harry and could admit that, but he was well on his way there when Harry had suddenly stopped talking to him and then married the Weasley chit. Harry had admitted to Theo that he thought he might be gay as well, and Theo had happily experimented with Harry. The relationship had been purely sexual and had begun to turn into more as time went on. Harry had even admitted to sending a letter to his friends after they had left for Australia to tell them about their relationship, a big step as he hadn't actually told anyone but Theo he was definitely gay. Not that he'd actually needed to tell Theo; anyone that passionate in bed with another man was definitely gay.

It had been that passion that had caused them to forget to use the spells of protection. It was only once, Theo had gotten just the slightest bit mouthy about something or other, a sure fire way to set Harry off, and wasn't that a little revealing, perhaps the UST between him and Draco throughout their school years hadn't been his imagination after all. Harry had had Theo pressed into the wall pants around his ankles before Theo could say 'fuck'. Theo hadn't realized till the next time they went to have sex and the contraceptive charm had pinged red when Harry went to cast it, they'd ended up casting the test right then and there, confirming what they both knew, Theo was pregnant.

At first Theo had thought Harry would order him to abort it, something Theo did not want to do at all, but instead Harry had put a hand over Theo's belly and told him that even if he couldn't say he loved him yet, he wanted to marry Theo for the sake of the baby. That had actually been the first time Theo had realized just how much he cared about Harry and how close he was to falling completely in love. Theo's testimony and pregnancy became one of the greatest blows to any case Ginerva might have had.

The greatest blow was actually Ginerva herself. She had agreed to testify herself, under oath of course, and under the questioning of her lawyer had done quite well. It was the cross that caught her though. Rather than beating around the bush and trying to insinuate answers like the defense had been doing the prosecutor got straight to the point.

In the end Ginerva received life in prison with no possibility of parole until thirty years had been served. In a surprising twist Molly Weasley was charged as an accomplice and for aiding and abetting illegal actions. When Ginerva had refused to answer questions she was asked the court held her in contempt, and the prosecutor petitioned for the use of veritiserum. It turns out that with full knowledge of what Ginerva was doing Molly had provided her daughter with the love potion needed. She got fifteen years without probation.

As Theo walked out of the courtroom, Ron and Hermione helped guard him from the vultures that were the press, and had gotten him to Godric's Hollow safely. Harry had almost completely fixed up his parents house before Ginny had managed to potion him and it had been left to Theo in Harry's will. Theo couldn't stomach staying anywhere else even if the house itself made him feel grief for the possibility that had been taken away from him. Hermione and Ron stayed with him as well, and had refused his offers to wave rent, although they didn't pay a lot. Theo figured that they shouldn't have to pay anything considering what they were doing to help. It wasn't like Theo had any family to turn to after all.

"Fuck! Where's the emergency portkey?" Ron yelled the question to his fiancée who was helping Theo stand even as the other male screamed. Labor in cases of male pregnancy came on fast and sudden and was extremely painful given the birthing canal formed just minutes before ones water broke, and was almost as painful as the contractions themselves.

"Hanging up on the coat rack, Ron," Hermione said with a grimace as Theo squeezed her hand, painfully grinding her fingers together as he let out another scream. She was glad she had a built in birth canal, the process of swiftly growing one magically was obviously excruciating.

"Got it!" Ron exclaimed rushing over to them, thirty seconds later saw them off to St. Mungos. Theo begged them both to stay with him and two hours later he he was sweaty, tired and pale but very very happy holding his two babes in his arms.

"They're beautiful," Hermione told Theodore. "Did you both have names already picked out? I never asked."

"We didn't know long enough before everything happened," Theo said his voice a little sad. "We didn't even know we were having twins." Hermione lightly touched the top of his daughters light brown curls. Both his son and daughter had been born with full heads of hair, his hair, given the light curly color growing ever lighter as it dried. Theo knew it would take a few months to be certain but he had a feeling that both of his children would have Harry's eyes.

"Hades," Theo said while looking at his son. "Hades Theodoraphil Nott, heir to the Nott Lordship," Theo said.

"May I?" Hermione asked motioning to his son.

"Yeah of course," Theo said. Gingerly, Hermione lifted Hades into her arms.

"Hades, for Harry right? Is Theodoraphil for you?" Ron asked as he leaned over Hermione's shoulder to look down at the sleeping babe.

"It was my grandfather's name," Theo said softly.

"Do you have a name for her?" Ron asked looking over to Theo's daughter who was sleeping just as peacefully as her brother in her bearer's arms.

"I thought maybe I'd name her for Harry's mother and my own," Theo said. "How does Lilliana Naomi Potter sound? Heir to the Lordships Potter and Peverell."

"I think he would have loved it," Hermione said.

Harry was angry. Death had allowed him to stay in the beings realm watching over Theo until the twins birth and the moment his lover had named their children Death had plopped him hear in the middle of fucking icy nowhere. Thank-fuck being Death's Master meant that the Hallows were incorporated within his core, else he'd already be dead. Warming charms had already become his absolute best friend. Still they couldn't stop all of the cold and his clothing was certainly not made for this.

"Point me people," Harry said extending his hand and waiting fro the pull. There were four faint pulls in various directions and one stronger pull that indicated the closest people. He started walking pulling his winter robes closed a little more as he recast a warming charm. His magic definitely felt stronger her but then again that might have been the fact that the hallows were now integrated within him. He'd had a few months from the point he'd died to get used to magic coming to him so easily. Hell he'd even managed his animagus form within a month of being in Death's realm, it wasn't like he needed as much sleep now that he was so called Master of Death, he had the time and resources to learn whatever he wanted.

Harry scoffed the fucker didn't have a Master, just a fucking plaything. Death had dumped him here with a 'have fun, make it interesting and don't die to soon'. Harry wished he could punch the being but the last time he'd done that he'd gotten his ass kicked. Who knew that Death knew ancient martial arts. Well apparently Harry did now too but he'd had to practice the moves to get the muscle memory. Apparently if anything was considered dead, meaning lost to its home world Death had intimate knowledge of it and so did Harry now that he'd taken up his mantle. This referenced languages, books, ideas everything. Harry supposed that in some sense that could be considered a bonus but what the fuck was he supposed to do with a dead language? I mean sure languages could be brought back to life and he would still know them but seriously? How many people would want to learn how to speak a language like Minoan, or rather how many would Harry even want to teach considering he was likely the only speaker on this world.

Harry shivered as the icy wind managed to cut through the warming charm yet again. He wished that it was possible to do magic whilst in ones animagus form, his wolf fur was much better suited than his human skin. He cast the warming charm again adding a little more power in the hopes it would last longer and kept trudging on.

Despite the strength of the pull in comparison to the others it still took Harry almost four hours of walking to come upon the people his charm had pulled him towards. He'd never seen anything like them either, and they spoke in a language he'd never heard. Harry had cast a translation charm but no translation charm was immediate. It would last for hours and everytime a language was spoken it would carefully process the words letting the caster learn slowly. The more often a specific word was used the faster it could be processed and the caster could learn it. So far Harry knew only a few food, safety, cold, warm, home and walk.

From what Harry could understand the people with slightly creepy yet some how ornate scarification wanted Harry to walk with them to their home where he'd be safe and they'd have food. At least that's what he hoped. They were watching him intently after all. At first he'd thought it to be fascination with the fact that he was alive despite his lack of fur clothing, something they all wore in excess. Now however he had doubts, one of the males looked at him as though he was something to eat and not in the fun way.

However despite not knowing their language Harry could glean much from the small group of people. Given their dress; crude armor, and bronzy-stone weapons this world was likely still in its medieval era, either that or this was a tribe that was very socially behind with the times. Either way Harry didn't mind, the Wizarding World, while not quite that far behind the times, was still firmly locked in the Renascence Era. Harry was sure that even if the entirety of the world was medieval he'd get along just fine.

Fuck nope, nah, noppity fucking no. He should have fucking known. He's Harry Potter when does anything happen the way he wants it to fucking happen. The scar people were goddamn fucking cannibals and wanted to fucking eat him. Thank fuck for the translation charm. Knowing he couldn't understand him the little party, what he now knew was a hunting party had continued talking fueling the charm, whilst they walked. He wasn't fluent in their language but he certainly knew they were talking about how juicy they thought he'd be when he was roasted. He had to escape and he had to do it fast, apparently they were close to their village and Harry highly doubted he'd find an easy way to escape then.

Harry launched a surprise blitz attack at the largest of the hunting party, knocking him down dazed into the snow, before Harry slammed a fist directly into his forehead and cursed. God their skulls were fucking hard as rocks, he wasn't entirely certain he hadn't broken a knuckle. The cannibal was out for the count though so that was good. Unfortunately Harry didn't get back onto his feet fast enough and one of the cannibals grabbed the back of his collar lifted and threw him, an impressive feat considering when he'd died and taken up his mantel Death had restored him to his best form, meaning he was now six one, four inches taller than his father had been, and a hundred and seventy-five pounds.

He was stunned for only a second springing up to meet the six cannibals who were very much conscious and ready to attack, with weapons. Harry dodged the blade of the first man's axe and grabbed the wrist of another who meant to strike at the same time. Harry pulled the man in close and kneed him right were it hurts, loosening the man's grip on his weapon. It was luck and skill borne of seeker reflex, and his own magic that allowed him to out right kill the next two who attempted to put holes in him. Still there were four more cannibals to deal with including the one who he'd kneed. Harry knew when to run from a fight he leapt to the left skin rippling as he did so.

His wolf form was huge in comparison to real wolves. Standing on his hind legs he was just over six feet, same as his human form, and weighed almost two hundred pounds. His head was as large as a horse's head and much more deadly. He was sure if he tried he'd be able to bite through a human limb. His fur was a Russian blue color, spotted with black around his face. The contrasting black to grey made his green eyes gleam like fire, while his grey body seemed sleek and deadly. As he sprung forward into the snow, away from the cannibal's his paws left foot prints the size of a smaller bear, and easily traceable should someone attempt it. Harry didn't care. Snow was falling again and would fill them in soon enough and one would need a horse to catch up to him.

It took Harry three days to find anyone else, and when he did he watched them for almost a week before revealing himself. They were camped upon the edge of the first forest Harry had seen in this rather barren land. He wanted to ensure there was no chance they were cannibals even if they didn't have the same decorative scarification on their faces and heads. Thankfully whilst watching them he also learned that they spoke English, something he was a little surprised with considering this was a totally different world, but also very thankful for.

As Harry walked towards the small encampment men and women alike drew their weapons.

"I mean no harm," Harry said. "Merely ask that I may share your fire for a while to warm up." He'd been sleeping in his wolf form, the fur thick enough to keep him from freezing but the fire looked so inviting he couldn't help but want to get closer to the flames.

"Are you a Crow?" asked one of the younger looking boys who held an axe at the ready. He had fiery red hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"No?" Harry answered a little confused, "I'm more a wolf if anything I guess."

"You don't know what a crow is?" one of the woman scoffed.

"Course I know what a crow is," Harry said. "It's a bird." This sent many of them laughing confusing Harry even more.

"I say we let the fool sit next to the fire," an older woman said. "Perhaps he can entertain us with his ignorance."

"I'd like to know why he wears no furs," said the young red head.

"So would I," said an older man. "Perhaps he would tell us his story by the fire?" And so Harry was allowed to come near the fire. Harry told his story leaving nothing out and even shifting into his wolf form and creating light in his hands to prove his words. Though wary at first the small clan of 'Free Folk' as they called themselves eventually accepted him. He helped them out by hunting in his wolf form as well as guarding the camp from other clans of free folk. He'd been pseudo adopted by Tormund, the young red head who'd asked if he was a crow. Tormund was almost the same age as him only about a year younger since Harry was now nineteen, as well as by Tormund's Uncle, Toric.

It had been almost five years now. The clan had grown, they were still very nomadic though they had spots they returned to but with Harry's help and his magic they had grown strong enough to defend themselves when attacked and to defeat other clans to get prime hunting spots. Harry also learned that while magic wasn't far spread in this world and wasn't near anything like what Harry's magic was, there was still magic.

An older woman in their clan, named Nesa was something called a greenseer. She caught glimpses of the future, and the past. Rarely did she reveal what she'd seen however, stating that knowing the future often changed the future. There were also a few in their clan who could do what was known as warging. Carrok and Shar were twins who served as scouts for the clan. They each had a hawk that they could warg into. Harry found that he had absolutely no ability in either talent but his abilities were still extremely helpful. Harry had enjoyed his time with the clan. Sure there were some down moments like meeting Varamyr Sixskins.

_Flashback_

It had started out a normal day. Cold as ever but for once the wind wasn't blowing as hard and the sun actually peeked out from behind the clouds as ineffectual as it was. Harry had gotten up early so he and Castor, a few of the women along with some of the older children could get water for the day from the nearby stream. He and Castor quickly chipped through the layer of ice that had frozen over the same spot they'd chipped out yesterday and the others set to gathering water in buckets to be brought back to camp where it would be heated for cleaning and cooking.

As Harry and Castor took watch Harry caught the glimpse of a sinus tan beast watching over the group. Recognizing the big cat as a shadowcat he loosened his weapon, an axe given to him by Tormund's uncle, shortly after he'd arrived, and watched to see what the cat would do.

"There's no point," said one of the older women when she realized what Harry was watching.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"No matter how many have tried to kill him, Sixskins is still alive. Its best if whichever girl it is he wants simply goes to him. His cat won't leave until they come willingly or he has to force them," the woman said. Harry realized the man Varamyr was a warg and this was his cat.

"Its me," one of the girls said, she couldn't be more than sixteen. "He's been watching me since yesterday evening."

"Then you must go to him," the older woman said sympathy in her tone but found nowhere on her face. The girl looked fearful but resigned.

"If you would like," Harry said quietly knowing that animals had good hearing. "I will follow in my other form. I will kill him before I will allow you taken against your will."

"Others have tried," the older woman said.

"Others are not me," Harry answered.

"Please," the girl said with a nod.

"I'll wait till your out of sight before changing so that he simply thinks I'm a warg not a shifter," Harry said. The girl nodded again and passed her bucket of water to another, shuffling off resignedly. True to his word Harry waited until she was out of sight before leaping and shifting in one move, powerful front paws pushing him forward swiftly. He disappeared into the treeline following the scent of shadowcat and fear. He slipped in and out of the shadows of the trees on the snow his coat blending perfectly making him almost completely invisible, only his blazing emerald eyes gave way his position, as he tracked his quarry.

He caught the glimpse of the hut before the girl did and leapt forward tearing into the shadowcat murdering it swiftly. A pained scream from within the hut told Harry that the man had not managed to withdraw from the cat fast enough to avoid the feeling that came with the animal one warged into dying. He gave a significant look to the girl and she took off, fleet footed in fear, whether of him with a bloodied face and muzzle or of Varamyr he didn't know.

An angry roar had Harry paying attention once again, his eyes widening. That was a motherfucking snow bear. While with his size Harry had the advantage of most predator animals, he was not quite as tall or as heavy as a fucking snow bear. He caught glimpse of the door to the hut. It was closed but it was a possibility. The snow bear was to big to fit within it but Harry certainly could if he could break it down. He took off running. The Snow bear was fast for its size but not quite fast enough. Harry's barreling weight made the door practically shatter, but his victory was not long lived as a wolf that had been within the house attacked him before he could even shake the pain of slamming into the wood. A yelp later had Harry ripping through its throat, a process that was completed twice more, with two more wolves.

Scanning the hut Harry found Varamyr sitting half dressed on his bed. Harry was about to pad forward when he saw the man's eyes. They were bone white, meaning he was still warging. Harry scanned the rest of the hut. There didn't seem to be any more predators and the snow bear was still outside. He yelped out in pain as talons scrapped across his head. His reaction was swift, and his jaws snapped on a wing. The eagle that had attacked him lay dying and Varamyr was forced to return to his body.

"You are strong, to have taken a direwolf as your skin," Varamyr said watching Harry but not moving from his position on the bed. Harry waited trying to figure out what the other's next play was. Obviously the man still thought he had the upper hand somehow given that despite the intense anger and hate, the man seemed to show he still wasn't attacking Harry with a blade or another weapon, and instead just sitting there as if nothing was wrong.

"But I have done what others said was impossible. I have taken a snow bear and I am far stronger than you!" Varamyr shouted and suddenly Harry felt and intense pressure in his head against the shields he'd learned how to place when he was in Death's realm. They certainly weren't the strongest but they were strong enough. Harry shifted into his human form as he walked towards the bed. Varamyr's mind returned to him seconds later when he realized that the mind he was trying to take over was not that of an animal being warged into. It was far too late though. Harry had a knee on the warg's chest.

"Stronger than I?" Harry asked a rather bloodthirsty smile on his face. "When you get there. Say hello to Death for me, he's an old friend."

Harry had returned to his clan's camp his fur soaked and bloody, carrying the skins of three wolves, a shadowcat and a snow bear. While he certainly wasn't able to kill the beast of a snow bear with his fangs and claws a simple avada kadavra wasn't beyond him, especially now in this world where it was live or die.

_Flashback Ended_

Despite the bad times Harry had been content with the Free Folk clan for the past five years. He was twenty-three now, older than either of his parents had been when they died, although technically he'd died younger but still, and he had this feeling that there was something more for him out there that he was missing. The feeling grew even more intense on the clear days when he was out on the snow planes whether hunting with others or making scout trips, when he could see in the very far distance the faintest outline of the structure that the Free Folk simply called the wall. He'd never even been close enough to see the solid outline, just the fuzy blur that could possibly be his imagination and longing. He wanted to go south, he wanted to know more of this world. Death had told him to enjoy himself and while he was content he couldn't say he loved where he was. Some of the people here he cared for but, and perhaps it was knowing that his and Theodore's beautiful children would be five now, but he just he wanted something more.

"I think I'm leaving," Harry said sitting down next to Tormund.

"You think you're leaving?" Tormund asked questioningly as he offered a flask of fermented goats milk. Harry huffed and took the offered flask, he wasn't really a fan of the drink but it was warming and needed for this conversation.

"You know of how I came to be in this land," Harry said before taking a swig. "I don't technically belong here and despite coming to care for you and the others of this clan, well minus Jafar but I think that's obvious." Jafar hated Harry and the feeling was mutual. "But I want to see what else is out there. I want to go south of the wall. Not to mention, I don't actually like the cold and snow," Harry continued.

"You'd go to the kneeler lands?" Tormund asked. Harry snorted.

"You forget Tormund that I came from a place in which I was a Lord," Harry said. "I… I have this wanderlust that I fear would cause me to become resentful of you and our clan if I were to force myself to stay."

"Then go," another voice said from behind them and they both turned. Dagmar their clans leader stood there. He crouched down and sat on the log beside Tormund and Harry passed the flask over. Dagmar was only about seven or eight years older than Harry, well built and strong.

"You don't seem surprised," Harry said.

"Boy I've watched you since you first came to live with us. When ever we hunt, or travel to the next camp home you always look to the south. I'd bet I knew long before you yourself did that you'd be leaving us one day, and I doubt I'm the only one," Dagmar said. "We're Free Folk, we can't keep you." Harry snorted and took another gulp of the offered drink wrinkling his nose and twisting his face at the taste as he did so causing the other two to chuckle.

Four days later Harry was packed to leave. His pack was enchanted and shrunk and strung round his neck like a pendant. It contained his all his personal items collected over the years, tent, weapons and armor. Though he could technically wear his armor before shifting into his wolf form giving himself added protection given it's enchanted nature, while invisible it would still weigh upon him. He preferred to dress lightly when he ran as a wolf.

He was just placing the pack round his neck and tucking it under his shirt when Tormund made himself known, with a cough.

"Fuck me Tormund we need to get you a bell. No grown man should be able to move that silent in the fucking snow," Harry said jumping, as he turned to face the red headed and bearded man. Harry had grown a beard as well but had chosen to shear it away with his magic, leaving a well-groomed circle beard. His hair was long, three tight braids, with tiny metal clasps woven into the end on the sides of his head pulling it all away from his face and into a central ponytail tied back with a leather strip.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't planning on leaving without a goodbye," Tormund said with a grin.

"Like I could, you'd probably follow me beyond the Wall and drag me back here if I tried to leave without saying a goodbye," Harry said with a grin. The two had grown close, almost like brothers. The red head honestly reminded him of another red head Harry had once known and called brother. Harry smilled and shook his head before walking over and drawing the other man into a tight hug, that was returned just as strongly. They pulled apart and Tormund looked rather sheepish when he held out a small hided wrapped package. Harry took it and carefully unwrapped it. Inside was a bronze metal arm cast made for his upper arm. Harry was quick to shuck off his upper shirt to clasp it on. A howling wolf emblem had been roughly pounded into it and Harry knew that Tormund had likely made the gift himself.

"Thank-you Tormund," Harry said before pulling his shirt back on. Harry's clothing was a strange mix of wildling style and his original wizarding style. His undershirt was skintight and long-sleeved, made from grey sealskin, on top of that he wore a basilisk scale shirt and a leather vest lined with wolf fur and long seal leather gloves with rabbit fur inside. Over top of that all he wore his grey wizards robe, although it had a few additions of its own, including a fur collar and a button up front complete with delicately carved weirwood buttons. He had long-john like pants made from sealskin beneath a pair of basilisk scale pants, and hide and fur boots.

The basilisk scale clothing was in fact more of an armor than a set of clothes. Harry had gotten luck that at the time of his Death he'd had his mokeskin pouch on him, and Death had allowed him to keep everything he'd had on him at the time of his Death. Unfortunately after the end of the war that wasn't actually a lot. The only reason the basilisk armor was even in the mokeskin was because he'd picked it up from the bank that day. The goblins had agreed to make him a suit of basilisk skins for free from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd given them the rest of the beast in return for taking no revenge on him or Hermione and Ron for breaking into and out of the Bank. He also had a set of gloves and boots made of the snake scale in his mokeskin pouch but they weren't warm enough to wear in this weather, the hide and fur being much more efficient to stay warm.

With a final nod to the red-head Harry took a running leap and smoothly transitioned into his wolf form. He gave a single long and slightly forlorn howl and raced off into the snow, heading south towards whatever adventure lay in wait.