Dragon of the North. Prologue.

Harry looked curiously at Dumbledore as he thought about what to do. "So if I was to...board the train. Where would it take me"?

Dumbledore smiled slightly as he stroked his beard. "On I would think, again this is as I said, your party, but I think boarding a train would lead you to the next great adventure".

"Voldemort has the elder wand", Harry said. Dumbledore nodded, "Yes he has".

Harry hesitated for a few moments more before extending his hand to Dumbledore. "I think...for once in my life I will do the selfish thing and move on". Dumbledore let out a small sigh as he grasped his hand. "You've earnt it my boy, good luck".

Harry entered the closest wagon and set down in a compartment as the train made a sudden lurch and started to move forwards. Swifter and swifter the train moved as everything turned into a kaleidoscope of colour and noise and Harry started to worry as he suddenly felt as though he wa surrounded by warmth and a squeesing sensation somewhat familiar to apparition pushed down at him. He could hear faint screams and voices before he was suddenly pushed out screaming into a world of light and cold. absently he heard a voice say. "You have a son Lady Lyanna".

Before he could do more than blink his mouth was introduced to something soft and instinctively he suckled almost cooing as his hunger abated. Opening his eyes he got a faint glimpse of a young beutiful woman with grey eyes and long dark hair, looking tired but lovingly down at him. His last thought before the Morpheus took him into his grasp was, 'oh dear, now what's happened'.

While Harry was sleeping in his crib, in another realm the survivors of Hogwarts were in mourning as they counted the dead. With Harry's death as well as the deaths of countless others, none had been in a forgiving mood and Voldemort's forces had been caught on the back foot as the 'forces of light' started shooting to kill. After a short but vicious battle it was over, all but five of Voldemort's supporters had survived the battle as none of either Voldemort nor his death eaters curses seemed to do anything.

Nagini had been destroyed by Neville Longbottom, Bellatrix by Molly Weasley while Voldemort himself had been killed by Hagrid who had used the deistraction of Voldemort fighting Horace Slughorn, Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt to grab the Dark Lord from behind. Streaming tears of rage and sadness he grabbed Voldemort by the head and crushed his head like an overripe watermelon.

Behing named minister Kingsley used Harry's sacrifice to introduce sweeping reforms in britain. The Remaining Death Eaters were pushed through the Veil. Every Ministry employee was questioned under veritaserum, those who had actively and willingly supported Voldemort faced heavy prison terms and fines. The wizengamot was likewise gutted due to the corruption it had long propagated and remodeled, now becoming electoral seats instead of hereditary. It too years but the pureblood cult in Great Britain was finally destroyed, all due to the sacrifice of one young man.

Year 283 AC. Tower of Joy.

Lord Eddard Stark and his six companions looked at the three assembled Former Kingsguard of King Aerys. Ser Arthur Dayne leant slightly against the wall of the tower with his helmet in his hand. Ser Osswell Whent was kneeling as he absently ran a whetstone along his sword, while the White Bull Ser Gerold stood imposingly in the middle.

"I looked for you on the Trident," Ned said to them.

"We were not there," Ser Gerold answered.

"Woe to the Usurper if we had been," said Ser Oswell.

"When King's Landing fell, Ser Jaime slew your king with a golden sword, and I wondered where you were."

"Far away," Ser Gerold said, "or Aerys would yet sit the Iron Throne, and our false brother would burn in seven hells."

"I came down on Storm's End to lift the siege," Ned told them, and the Lords Tyrell and Redwyne dipped their banners, and all their knights bent the knee to pledge us fealty. I was certain you would be among them."

"Our knees do not bend easily," said Ser Arthur Dayne.

"Ser Willem Darry is fled to Dragonstone, with your queen and Prince Viserys. I thought you might have sailed with him."

"Ser Willem is a good man and true," said Ser Oswell.

"But not of the Kingsguard," Ser Gerold pointed out. "The Kingsguard does not flee."

"Then or now," said Ser Arthur. He donned his helm.

"We swore a vow," explained old Ser Gerold.

Ned's wraiths moved up beside him, with shadow swords in hand. They were seven against three.

"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light.

"No," Ned said with sadness in his voice. "Now it ends."

Rushing forward Ned swung Ice down from a high blow against Ser Arthur who deftly diverted the massive blade and struck back with a move so quick it nearly left Ned stunned as he barely avoided the blow. A gurgle sounded to Ned's right signifying the end of William Dustin as Ser Gerold's blade pierced his throat. Angrily Ned launched another strike upon Ser Arthur who leaned back to avoid the attack before retaliating.

Back and forth Ned and Ser Arthur fought. heedless of the men dying around them. To Ned it felt like an eternity passed. Both him and Ser Arthur were bleeding from a score of lesser wounds, their armour red with blood and buckled and dented from where it had absorbed mighty blows. Overextending Ned watched in dismay as Ice was knocked out of his grasp and he closed his eyes as he thought about his wife whom he would never see again. Of his son whom would never know him, but curiously the killing blow never came and as he opened his eyes he saw why.

Ser Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning and the greates knight in the Seven Kingdoms looked stunned and confused, even as his lifeblood poured out from the wound in his throat where young Howland Reed had pierced it whith his blade. Looking desperately at Ned he fell forward to the ground and lay still.

Looking over at Howland who looked as stunned as Ned felt he was about to thank the young Crannogman before a woman's scream pierced the air. "LYANNA"! Ned screamed as he and howland ran into the tower. Up the stairs until they came to the top where a woman pointed at a closed door. Wrenching open the door he ran over to his sister whom was lying in a bed, he hair hung limply off her head and her skin glistened with sweat.

"Lyanna", he almost whispered as he took in his sister's state. The sheets were filled with blood and the room smelled of blood and roses.

"Ned," she whispered weakly. "Ned I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry Ned. I never meant for this to happen". she was crying softly as as she clung weakly to him.

Kissing her warm forehead Ned tried to smile at his sister. "Do no worry sister, it will be alright, you'll be fine".

Lyanna sniffled as a broken chuckle came from her. "I'm dying Ned, the wetnurse said it is the birthing fever".

At those words Ned's eyes widened as he spotted the crib in the corner for the first time. Standing up he walked slowly over to the crib and almost fell back in shock. In the crib lay a small babe, harldy more than a month at most. Tufts of silver white hair crowned his head and then the babe opened his eyes, revealing a pair of frightfuly aware violet eyes speckeckled with emerald green. As if in a trance he carefully picked up the young babe and chuckled slightly as the boy tryed grabbing his beard.

"Bring him to me Ned, let me hold him one last time", Lyanna said from her position of the bed. Ned walked back to the bed and carefully placed the boy in his sister's arms. Lyanna smiled sadly at her young son and kissed his forehead softly while whispering her farewells to her child. Looking back up at her brother she steeled her gaze. "Promise me Ned, promise me you will protect my Daeron, protect him from Robert".

Ned narrowed his eyes slightly. "Daeron"? he questioned.

Lyanna smiled sadly while looking over to a corner where Ned could spot a black cloak with a red three headed dragon. "His father was a Prince, and so is he. Promise me Ned".

Choking back a sob he nodded as he took the babe from his sister's dying arms. "I promise". Lyanna smiled in relief before closing her eyes and let out a last sigh. As if he knew his mother was gone the babe started crying and Ned looked helplessly over at Howland whom was wiping away tears of his own. Suddenly the wetnurse whom neither man had paid any attention to rushed over and with a quick, "Pardon m'Lord", took the child and started rocking him back and forth while cooing softly at him, eventually the babe stopped crying and snuggled sleepily against the young woman's bosom. "What is your name woman"? Ned asked her.

"Wylla m'Lord", she answered shakily.

Ned sighed wearily as he ran a tired hand over his face. "You will have to come with us, and not a word of this to anyone". The woman nodded quickly as she started placed Daeron back in his crib to start packing what few posessions belenging to him and his mother. His mother's maiden cloak, a few letters written to Lyanna by her beloved Rhaegar, a gold necklace of a dragon with rubies as its eyes.

While Wylla was packing Ned strode over to Howland and whispered to him. "You must take them to Greywater Watch in the neck, once there", Ned swallowed the bile of disgust that threathened to spill up in him. "Once there you must find another wetnurse...and kill this one". Howland widened his eyes slightly, before nodding with resignation. "It will be done My Lord".

Together the two northemen, wetnurse and infant Prince 'King' Ned reminded himself walked back out of the tower, only for the two northmen to immediately draw their swords. Ser Osswell Whent was staring at them from where he was knelt over a small cairn of stones, seven others like them dotted the area around him and he had shed his white armour, and Ned realised why Osswell had been thought of as dead. Blood was caked on the side of his head, stemmed by a hastily prepared bandage and the area around the wound was bruised. Rising up he pointed his sword at them with a shaky hand. "What now Lord Stark? will you bring his Grace to the usurper"?

Ned shook his head as he sheathed Ice and motioned for Howland to do the same. "I know not what you speak of Ser Knight. The boy is my bastard son and I am bringing him with me to the North where he can grow up with his kin".

Osswell let out a sigh in relief as he understood what Ned was saying. "Then take me with you My Lord, I am but a simple Knight without land and title, perhaps I can serve in your castle in return for food and lodgings".

Ned nodded to Osswell as the Kingsguard Knight sheathed his sword. "You will have to take on a new name, perhaps grow a beard and colour your hair too, it wouldn't do for Robert to find out about you". Looking at the cairns that held five of his friends as well as two Kingsguard and the armour of the last one he turned nack to Osswell. You will accompany Howland, the babe and the wetnurse up north along with the body of my sister". he picked up Dawn, the sword of Ser Arthur, "I must go to Starfall and deliver this before venturing to Riverrun to collect my wife and heir, I will meet you in the neck, until then, you will follow Howland's commands as if they were my own understood"?

Osswell nodded slightly as he walked over to where the horses were. "I will defend them with my life Lord Stark".

After securing Lyanna's body to a horse Ned watched sadly as Hwoland, Osswell and Wylla along with his nephew left the tower for the long journey north, before setting of towards Starfall where he would deliver Dawn back to its family...

AN:

So my muse has been pretty dead lately as this story here has been pretty much been locked in my head. I will do my very best however to try and write more regularly. Updates for my other stories are in the works, but no idea when I will be done. Also if there are anyone here with knowledge of Got/ASoIaF who are willing to beta for me please send me a PM.

Pairing will most likely be Harry/Daeron and female Targ cause incest is wincest (goddamn you DLP). Magic will be featured in the story, but not as heavily as in HP becuase the magic from HP would be WAY too OP. As for HP, assume canon up to the point of Harry taking an AK to the chest, so Harry is a strong wizard who is somewhat lazy when it comes to studying, but intelligent, and very quick on his feet. Also assume his personality will be somewhat different, after all, new society, no dark lord out to kill him and most importantly, not sharing headspace with said dark lord which in my opinion has had to have at least some psychological effect on Harry in his youth.

Please tell me what you think in a review and again, Beta readir is both welcomed and desired.

Cheers

Tellie571