The Wizard of Fury Chapter 1 (Patreon)

AN: Hello everyone and welcome to my new series: The Wizard of Fury. This chapters serves as a prologue to introduce you to the setting and where Harry is at in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire.

As you all generally indicated that you were interested in a longer fic, that's what you're getting. The first arc of this story will take place while Harry is still quite young, but there will be a time skip at the end of it to align the story with the time period that the books and show takes place in.

On that note, I am using a modified timeline of the setting. Certain events take place at different times compared to both the books and the show. Such things will be made clear whenever they are relevant, but if you notice a discrepancy in the timeline compared to your own knowledge of the setting, assume that I changed it for a reason.

If you have any questions about the series or anything within the story, please feel free to ask. Chapter 2 of this story will be up in about an hour after this one goes up, and Chapter 3 will be out in a couple day's time.

I hope you enjoy this long adventure we're about to embark on!

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The dragons died a long time ago, or so they said. No one could make sense of the dark dreams Harry Baratheon had of great winged beasts breathing fire down upon a young man flying on a broomstick. Maester Cressen claimed that it was merely nightmares owing to the thousands of dragon statues on the isle of Dragonstone. A travelling soothsayer claimed that it foretold a prophecy of dragons returning again one day. But only Harry knew the truth.

He’d been born as Harry Potter. A boy from a different land than Westeros. He’d lived a different life, been a different boy.

This revelation didn’t come immediately to Harry Baratheon. For ten years, he’d know nothing other than the world in which he currently resided in. Dragonstone was his home, and he was the son of Stannis Baratheon and Selyse Florent. He was an only child, one who dutifully followed his father’s will and was trying to shape himself into a worthwhile heir.

His life had been perfect other than the dreams that had plagued his mind. Harry could remember countless nights when he’d sneak into his parents’ chambers at night, claiming he heard a woman screaming before a flash of green light struck her. Of course, there’d be no woman around screaming.

Some chalked the mental torment up to the acts of the Targaryen ghosts that were said to roam within the castle’s walls. Others whispered that Stannis’ strict treatment over his son was making him crack until the yoke of the expectations that’d been set out for him. Stannis decried all such foolish notions and instead ordered Cressen to give Harry sweetsleep to allow him a peaceful rest throughout the night, but the concoction did little to stop the dreams. They merely trapped him within them until he awoke in the morning.

Everyone had been concerned over Harry’s state, none more so than Stannis. He’d called in aid from throughout Westeros and across the Narrow Sea, but no one had been able to cure Harry of his dreams.

But then everything changed on his tenth name day as memories of his life as Harry Potter flooded into his mind. A servant found him in the morning having a seizure in his bed and had rushed to get help. By the time she returned with a pair of guards, Harry had been up and getting dressed for the day. Cressen had checked him over but declared that nothing was amiss, so Harry was allowed to continue on with his day as normal.

Despite that, everyone knew that Harry Baratheon was anything but normal from that point on.

Between the marked shift in his personality, otherworldly knowledge of surprisingly advanced topics that even some maesters struggled with, and strange occurrences around him that seemed to defy all rational explanation, the entire castle of Dragonstone was concerned over Harry’s state. He seemed markedly different, even if some of his old habits and nature still remained.

Few could truly pinpoint the differences except for those who spent a lot of time with him. Cressen noted that Harry tended to both smile and brood more. Stannis pointed out that Harry had grown remarkably rebellious. Selyse said that Harry often stared off into the distance, seeing things that weren’t even there.

But to Harry, nothing felt different. He’d died at the end of the Triwizard Tournament at the hands of the Dark Lord Voldemort and been reborn as Harry Baratheon. It took time before his memories returned to him, but he still felt like the same boy before and after that day. It was like his memories had always been with him, simmering beneath the surface of his consciousness.

He continued to be his father’s heir. Maybe he was less dutiful and concerned with proper protocol, but he did a fine enough job he thought. He treated his mother with all of the kindness and compassion he could, even as she suffered through multiple miscarriages and retreated more and more into solitude. He kept up with the people around the castle: Maester Cressen, Patchface the court fool, Ser Davos and his family, and countless other knights, guards, and servants. They all treated him well and politely avoided commenting on any changes to his behaviour.

But as everyone else wondered about him, Harry wondered about the future.

He was without a wand and a way back home. He’d never encountered any sort of magic that could transport him to a distant world like this. He didn’t seem to be on the same planet as Earth, but that didn’t necessarily imply that he was even in the same time period as Earth was. For all he knew, his friends back home could either be long dead or not even born yet.

There were plenty of wonders of magic to explore, but such things were bound to prove difficult in such a primitive world. Regardless, that was no excuse for laziness on Harry’s part. He would try his best to uncover the mysteries that had sent him to this world in the first place and search for a way to return. As much as this place now seemed like a home to him, his life back in England was just as much so, if not more.

Until the day he was able to return, he’d hone his wandless magic so that he could potentially return. He’d search high and low for strange magics in this land and decipher if any of them could help him to return back home.

He’d have to live in this land until then, but his years of life here had taught him plenty. He was well assimilated to this land, and he was sure that he’d manage perfectly fine.

One day, perhaps this would all seem like a bad dream to him.

Or, perhaps, this would be a new beginning for his life.