Chapters
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The Pale Bastard The last few days were dull, but Jon did not drop his guard in the slightest. He even took off the weirwood beads for the first time. His heart skipped a beat, but no whisper came to haunt his thoughts. His mind felt lighter, and after a night of hesitation, he shoved them into his travel pack. The sense of danger in the air grew by the day, and he had his men and squires practice to stay sharp. They stood night watch in shifts of two each night, and Jon regretted not bringing Shadow on…-
323.3 K • Ongoing
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259 AC, King’s Landing The Scarred Maiden “Did you hear? Weeping Town has been sacked!” “Weeping Town? How’d that even get attacked? Isn’t that over in the Reach?” “It’s in the Stormlands, Marge, south of the Rainwood and facing the Sea of Dorne.” Branda perked up as she wolfed down the last of her venison pie, listening closer to the talk in the kitchens. Hearsay in the kitchen moved faster than most—Anne the Stewmistress was the wife of Hayford’s captain of the…
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323.3 K • Ongoing
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Late 259 AC, The Red Keep The Unlikely King “Why are you all so silent now?” he demanded as all of his councillors shrank into their chairs. Three days had passed since word of the terrible defeat at Greenstone had reached the city. And just this morning, a raven had arrived from Estermont, bringing dark words. A traitor had opened the postern gate, allowing the Essosi into the castle, and the fall of Greenstone was a matter of time. Perhaps it had already fallen by the time Aegon laid…
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323.3 K • Ongoing
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Dumbledore Returns to International Affairs and Urges Caution By Betty Braithwaite, 2nd of January 1995 The already retired arch-wizard and defeater of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald has officially returned to the ICW headquarters, meeting Supreme Mugwump Lucas Silvano behind closed doors. The meeting is said to have lasted a full six hours, but the contents of their talk remain a secret. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has come forth, urging the wizards, witches, beings, and…-
530.5 K • Ongoing
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260 AC, Sunspear Doran Martell gently poked at his brother's cheek and received an unhappy yowl. Oberyn's black eyes glared at him in resentment as his chubby hands tried to slap the offending finger away. He had the same olive skin that all members of House Nymeros Martell boasted, and had a restless streak a mile wide. Smiling despite himself, the Prince of Dorne allowed his hand to be pushed away for a moment. When Oberyn's hands grew tired and fell to his sides, he reached out and gently…
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323.3 K • Ongoing
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28th of December, Wednesday (3 days later) The Old Headmaster Albus massaged his pulsing temples as Phineas’s rickety voice rang out through his office. “See that, you old thing? My niece bloody did it! And your descendants have faded into obscurity, the best of them selling cold-cream for a living.” “It’s ice cream, you senile fool,” Dexter Fortescue thundered from another portrait. “And my descendants are numerous, with a great-great-grandson presiding over the Wizengamot. The last…
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530.5 K • Ongoing
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognisable characters, plots, and settings are the exclusive property of Joanne K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership. Edited and beta-read by Himura, Bub3loka, Ash, and Kingfishlong. 12th of January, Friday 1995 (2 days later) Harry Potter The sun had set, but his eyes were unimpeded by the dark, seeing the world full of colour without issue. He streaked above the treetops, preening as the cool wind caressed his…
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530.5 K • Ongoing
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17th of January, Tuesday 1995 (2 days later) Harry Potter Perhaps Scrimgeour had sensed something was amiss, because his vigilance had only heightened. That left them with only one last card left to play—Arthur Weasley. The outcome of the elections now rested on his shoulders. “Thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice, Mr Weasley,” Harry said as they sat in a private room in an old, unassuming pub on the outskirts of Blackburn, far away from any prying Muggle or magical…
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530.5 K • Ongoing
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260AC, The Isle of Faces The Muddled Princess The looming feeling of danger that hung over her head only faded after she set foot on the Isle of Faces. She had not told anyone of her premonition this time because, even if she had, it would have been of no use. A part of her was reluctant to leave the place she had lived her whole life, but needs must. In the past three weeks alone, seven lords and knights had come to her door to invite her to dine in person, their impure…
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323.3 K • Ongoing
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