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The Winter Wizard - Chapter 25 - Welcome to Pentos
🕑 Added 2025-03-19 20:00:05 +0000 UTCThe salty air filled their lungs as the ship glided steadily eastward, the rhythmic creak of the timbers and the slap of waves against the hull providing a constant background to the days aboard. Harry and Jon spent much of their time together in their shared cabin, a modest but private space that allowed them to speak freely.
Jon had been full of questions about Harry’s magic from the time they had left the deck to the privacy of their quarters. “So, it’s not just tricks. What exactly can you do? Can you summon fire or move objects? Can you do anything?” Jon’s eyes were wide with curiosity, a rare expression of interest replacing the grim resolve he usually carried.
“Not just anything,” Harry explained, leaning back against the wooden wall of their cabin. “Magic has rules. Most of magic is related to manipulating something that is already there but there are certainly exceptions.”
Jon’s gaze sharpened. “But you can use it in a fight.”
Harry hesitated, but the earnestness in Jon’s voice wasn’t malicious. “Yes, and unfortunately that seems to be what I always end up using it for but that’s definitely not its only purpose. Magic can heal, protect, and create.”
Jon nodded slowly, processing this. “Can you show me?”
Harry smiled, happy to finally share this part of himself with someone, before leaning over and locking their door. When the cabin door was securely latched, Harry stood and raised his wand. “Alright, but don’t freak out. This spell will be harmless.” He glanced around for a suitable object before settling on an empty wooden cup on the small table. “Wingardium Leviosa.”
The cup rose into the air, floating smoothly under Harry’s control. At first, Jon’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. Then as Harry guided the cup towards him, Jon let out a yelp and took a step back, tripping over his own feet and landing heavily on the floor.
“I told you not to freak out!” Harry doubled over in laughter. “You all right?” he asked, extending a hand to help Jon up.
Jon scowled, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward despite himself. Finally he shook his head as he took the offered hand, his face a mixture of awe and embarrassment. “It’s unnatural … but impressive,” he admitted, pulling himself up. “You’re telling me you learned all this?”
“Yep. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was … my home for years,” Harry said, a wistful tone creeping into his voice. “That’s where I learned everything—well, most of what I know about magic.”
Jon sat back down, leaning forward eagerly. “Tell me more.”
Over the next few hours, encouraged by Jon’s reaction, Harry shared stories of his time at Hogwarts: tales of classes with eccentric professors, the adventures and the misadventures with his Ron and Hermione, and variety of things he had learned. He spoke of Quidditch, the Triwizard Tournament, and even the darker parts of his life, like losing his parents and the constant threat of Voldemort.
Jon listened intently, his expression alternating between fascination and quiet sympathy. “You’ve been through a lot,” he said finally. “More than most men twice your age.”
Harry shrugged. “I guess. But it’s made me who I am.”
Eventually Jon’s questions became fewer and fewer as Harry’s tales continued.
“Your life sounds like something out of an old story,” Jon said finally, shaking his head in disbelief. “And yet, here you are.”
Harry smiled faintly. “It doesn’t always feel real to me, either.”
When Jon’s questions finally stopped, the tables turned and Harry took the opportunity to ask about Jon’s own experiences since they parted ways. Jon hesitated at first, but eventually began recounting his journey since leaving Winterfell.
“The Wall was… not what I expected,” Jon said. “I thought it would be filled with noble men, warriors sworn to defend the realm. Instead, most of them were criminals, outcasts. Still, there are good men there. Men like the Lord Commander, the Maester, and a handful of the other recruits who arrived around the same time I did.”
Harry nodded, urging him to continue. Jon’s stories of the Wall painted a grim but fascinating picture of life in the Night’s Watch. When he spoke of his time beyond the Wall, Harry’s interest deepened.
“You were captured by wildlings?” Harry asked, shocked. “They actually let you go?”
Jon shrugged, though his eyes darkened. “It wasn’t that simple. They wanted something of me. I doubt if they didn’t the outcome would have been different.”
Jon paused remembering the experience before nodding. “Before I left, they gave me a letter to bring to the Lord Commander. I thought it was nonsense—something about ancient threats. But seeing your magic makes me wonder if there’s more truth to the old myths than anyone in Westeros would care to admit.”
The conversation shifted to Jon’s return to Winterfell. He spoke of his brothers, the quiet joy of seeing Bran awake tempered by the heavy task of carrying news to King’s Landing. He recounted the journey from Winterfell to White Harbor, including a chance encounter with the son of one of his father’s bannermen.
“He was fostered in the Vale,” Jon explained. “We crossed paths as he had been about to enter a village and decided to ride together to his father’s castle. He himself was pleasant company. But …” He trailed off, shaking his head, as if recalling an unpleasant memory. “Some bannermen of the North, they’re not like the rest. You feel it when you’re near them.”
“Like they’re hiding something?” Harry guessed.
Jon hesitated, then nodded. “Aye. But it’s not something I want to dwell on.”
Harry didn’t press for details, sensing Jon’s unease. Instead, he asked about the journey itself, and Jon’s descriptions of the rugged Northern landscape filled the hours as the ship sailed southward.
The days passed quickly after that. With little else to occupy his time, Harry took an interest in the workings of the ship. He spent hours with the sailors, learning the basics of rigging, steering, and navigation. Though his skills were rudimentary, he found satisfaction in understanding the rhythms of life at sea.
When he wasn’t learning or talking with Jon, Harry’s thoughts drifted to the girl from his dreams. Her face, though unfamiliar, seemed etched into his memory. She was always just out of reach, her presence a mixture of warmth and sadness. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was important, though he had no idea why.
The evening before the captain predicted they would arrive in Pentos, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in shades of orange and purple, Harry stood at the railing, staring out at the endless expanse of water. Jon joined him, silent for a long moment before speaking.
“You’ve been quiet today,” Jon observed.
“Just thinking,” Harry admitted.
“About the girl?”
Harry turned to Jon, eyebrows raised.
Jon shrugged, a faint smile playing at his lips. “You’ve got that look.”
Harry sighed. “I don’t even know who she is, but I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s like she’s … well, I’m not sure.”
Jon frowned, his brow furrowing in thought. “Maybe it’s magic. Or fate.”
Harry chuckled humorlessly. “Fate hasn’t exactly been kind to me.”
“Maybe not,” Jon said, his voice steady. “But you’re still here. That has to mean something.”
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The sun hung high over Pentos, its golden rays reflecting off the marble buildings and cobbled streets as Harry and Jon disembarked from their ship. The port bustled with activity: merchants haggled over crates of exotic goods, sailors barked commands as they unloaded cargo, and the air was filled with the scents of spices, fresh fish, and saltwater. Pentos was unlike anything Harry had ever seen.
The architecture was dazzling, with its rounded domes, vibrant mosaics, and wide courtyards filled with fountains. The people were just as striking, their colorful clothes flowing as they moved purposefully through the streets. Harry couldn’t help but marvel at the diversity—the mix of Essosi cultures so different from the more rigid ways of Winterfell and even King’s Landing for that matter.
“This is ... incredible,” Harry said, taking in the scene as they made their way into the city.
Jon, on the other hand, looked less impressed. “It’s too crowded,” he muttered, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword. “And too many people staring at us.”
Harry smirked. “Relax. Maybe if you were less rigid you’d draw less attention, you look like you are ready for a fight.”
Jon grunted in response and relaxed his posture slightly but kept his eyes scanning their surroundings.
They had agreed to split up to gather information. Jon would visit the city’s markets and speak with traders, while Harry planned to try his luck in one of the local taverns. They agreed to meet back at the docks before sunset.
Harry’s first stop was a bustling pub near the edge of the port. The place was lively, filled with sailors and merchants sharing tales over mugs of dark ale. Harry made his way to the bar, catching the attention of the barkeep—a burly man with a neatly trimmed beard and sharp eyes.
“What’ll it be?” the man asked, wiping down the counter.
“Ale, and some information if you’ve got it,” Harry said, sliding a coin across the counter.
The barkeep picked up the coin, biting it to test its authenticity, before nodding. “What are you looking to know?”
Harry hesitated for only a moment. “I’m looking for a girl. Young, silver hair, violet eyes. She might’ve passed through here recently.”
The man raised an eyebrow, his expression curious but not unfriendly. “Sounds like you’re talking about Daenerys Targaryen.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Targaryen? Are you sure?”
The barkeep nodded, leaning in closer. “She and her brother were guests of Illyrio Mopatis, one of the wealthiest men in Pentos. Word is, she’s the last of her line—her and that brother of hers, anyway. But she’s not here anymore.”
Harry’s stomach sank. “Where did she go?”
“She married one of the Dothraki khals. They left months ago, heading east toward the Dothraki Sea.” The barkeep shook his head. “Can’t imagine a girl like that lasting long among the horselords, but Illyrio seemed pleased enough with the arrangement.”
Harry felt a strange unease at the thought of Daenerys married to a khal, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. “Do you know where they were headed?”
The barkeep shook his head and laughed. “I forgot to ask when the Dothraki were consulting me with their plans.” He shook his head and scoffed. “I have no idea. But I can promise you I wasn’t the only one who was happy to see the entire horde leaving the area around the city.”
Harry thanked the man, finishing his ale quickly before leaving the tavern. The information was more than he had hoped for, but it also raised new questions. Could Daenerys Targaryen really be the girl from his dreams? And if she was, what was he meant to do now?
As he made his way into the winding streets, Harry’s thoughts raced. The dragon in his vision suddenly made sense—it hadn’t been a literal dragon but a symbol of House Targaryen. His instincts told him he was on the right track, but the path ahead was anything but clear.
Lost in thought, Harry nearly collided with a young woman carrying a basket of fruit. She dropped it, the contents spilling onto the ground.
“Sorry!” Harry said, crouching to help her pick up the scattered fruit.
“It’s fine,” the woman replied, her accent marking her as a local. As Harry handed her the last of the fruit, she paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. The woman studied him for a moment before glancing around and leaning in conspiratorially. “You were the one in the pub looking for Daenerys, weren’t you?”
Harry’s breath caught. “How did you—?”
“You weren’t exactly whispering,” she said, shaking her head. “I work in the household of Illyrio Mopatis. I saw myself—Daenerys Targaryen. She left with her brother and the Dothraki months ago. They’re bound for Vaes Dothrak.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Vaes Dothrak?”
“The Dothraki’s sacred city. It’s far into the Dothraki Sea. But no one knows what they’ll do next. Her brother’s been ranting for years about retaking Westeros and finally believed he had the men to do so. But … the Dothraki have never crossed the Narrow Sea.”
Harry nodded, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “Thank you. That’s exactly what I needed to know.”
The woman smiled faintly. “Be careful. Asking too many questions about the Targaryens can get you noticed.”
Harry assured her he’d be discreet and continued on his way, his mind buzzing with possibilities. He had originally been planning to head to Illyrio’s mansion after he had left the bar, but with the servant’s confirmation, he felt confident he had enough information. Perhaps it was better to avoid drawing the attention of someone as influential as Illyrio.
By the time Harry reached the docks, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden light over the water. Jon was already waiting for him, his arms crossed and his expression expectant.
“Well?” Jon asked as Harry approached. “Did you find anything?”
Harry grinned, unable to hide his excitement. “I did. You’re not going to believe this, but the girl from my dreams? She’s real. Her name is Daenerys Targaryen.”
Jon’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened in shock before narrowing in anger. “Targaryen? As in the Targaryens? Are you serious? The Mad King’s daughter?”
Harry nodded cautiously. “Yes.”
Jon’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he turned away. “You’re telling me the girl you’ve been dreaming about is a Targaryen? Do you have any idea what her family did to mine?”
Harry’s stomach twisted at Jon’s tone. He had known this would be difficult, but hearing the pain and anger in Jon’s voice made it worse than he’d expected.
“I know the history,” Harry said gently. “Maester Luwin told me about the war, about what happened to your uncle and your grandfather. And I know her father and her brother were responsible for so much of it.”
Jon turned back to face him, his eyes blazing. “Her brother kidnapped my aunt and started the war that killed thousands. My uncle rode with my grandfather to King’s Landing thinking they could bring her back, and instead, the Mad King burned my grandfather alive while my uncle had to watch. Do you think I’d ever want to go chasing after one of them?”
Harry nodded, acknowledging Jon’s anger. “You’re right to feel that way. They did horrible things, and no one can erase that. But she’s not her father, Jon. She’s not her brother.”
“How can you be so sure?” Jon shot back. “Blood doesn’t lie, Harry. The Targaryens—”
“Are not all the same,” Harry interrupted, his voice firm but calm. “Blood doesn’t determine who a person is. And right now you are judging someone for actions she had not committed, how many people have judged you based on the circumstances of your birth rather than who you actually are? Why shouldn’t she be afforded any less courtesy than you deserve?”
Jon hesitated, his anger flickering under the weight of Harry’s words. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“I know it’s asking a lot, and if you decide to leave now I will not think less of you,” Harry said, meeting Jon’s gaze. “But think about this—if the visions I’ve had are real, and they certainly seem to be, then she might be more important than either of us can imagine. I feel like we need to find her, Jon. And if it turns out I’m wrong, if she’s not the person I think she is ... then we’ll deal with it at that point.”
Jon stared at him, the tension between them heavy in the air. Finally, he let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “You’re too damn stubborn, you know that?”
Harry allowed himself a small smile. “I’ve been told.”
Jon ran a hand through his hair, looking out toward the sea. “If you’re wrong about her, I’m not going to forgive you for dragging me into this.”
“Fair enough,” Harry said. “But if I’m right ...”
Jon sighed, shaking his head. “If you’re right, then I suppose we’ll see what happens.”
Harry clapped him on the shoulder, relief washing over him. “Thank you, Jon.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Jon muttered. “We’ve still got a long road ahead. And if this goes sideways, you’re explaining it to my father.”
Harry chuckled softly. “Deal.”
Jon’s brow furrowed. “What do you plan to do now?”
Harry paused before nodding. “She and her brother were here, but they’ve left. She’s married to a Dothraki khal, and they’re heading for Vaes Dothrak. I don’t know how yet. But I have to find her.”
Harry and Jon walked back to the docks, their pace brisk and determined. The weight of Harry's words still hung in the air between them.
Jon hadn’t said much in response, but Harry could sense the tension in his friend’s silence. They reached the bustling docks just as the evening lamps were being lit, casting flickering reflections on the water. The salty air mingled with the aroma of roasting fish and the sharp tang of tarred rope.
They approached a group of sailors from their previous voyage, men who had been gruff but not unkind during their journey from King’s Landing. The sailors were lounging near the familiar vessel, exchanging stories over mugs of ale. When they noticed Harry and Jon approaching, one of the older men, a grizzled veteran named Torric, raised an eyebrow.
“Back so soon, lads? Thought you’d be off enjoying Pentos,” Torric said, scratching at his wiry beard. “Captain said you had more than enough coin to enjoy … the finer aspects of the city.”
“We need some advice,” Harry began, his tone polite but urgent. “We’re trying to figure out the quickest way to Vaes Dothrak.”
At that, the men erupted into laughter. Torric slapped his knee, and another sailor spat out his drink in surprise. “Vaes Dothrak? Are you mad? What in the Seven Hells would you want with a place like that?”
“It’s important,” Harry said, his voice firm. “Do you know the fastest route there?”
The sailors exchanged skeptical glances. Finally, a younger man with a missing his front teeth chuckled. “The fastest route? Pray to the gods you grow wings and can fly.”
Torric waved a hand dismissively. “Listen, boys, no one in their right mind goes anywhere near the Dothraki. Those horse-riding, flea-ridden barbarians are twice as likely to kill you as look at you. Half the reason I became a sailor was to stay as far away from them as possible. The sea’s the only place you are truly safe from them.”
The others nodded in agreement, murmuring about the ferocity of the Dothraki. Harry and Jon stood their ground, their determination unwavering.
“We’re just curious,” Jon interjected, his tone calm but insistent. “If someone were to make the journey, how would they do it?”
Torric squinted at them, suspicion flickering across his face. “Just curious, are you? Aye, and I’m the bloody king of Westeros.”
Harry forced a small smile. “We’re travelers, trying to learn about the world. Humor us.”
The sailors exchanged dubious looks but eventually shrugged. “Fine,” Torric said, leaning back against a wooden crate. “If you’re dead set on reaching Vaes Dothrak, there’s only one way to get close without ending up as horse meat. Take a ship to Meereen. From there, you’d head upriver as far as you can, then it’s all horse from there. And I don’t mean some Westerosi mule—you’d need to ride like a Dothraki to survive.”
The man with the missing tooth nodded. “They’ll spot you from miles away if you’re on a wagon or riding some sorry beast. It’s only if they decide you’re worth a fight that they might let you through.”
Torric snorted. “And that’s a big maybe.”
Harry and Jon exchanged a glance. The plan was risky, but it seemed to be their best option. “Thank you,” Harry said, dipping his head respectfully. “We appreciate the advice.”
As they turned to leave, Torric called after them, “I hope you’re not planning to go through with this, lads. It’s a fool’s errand.”
Harry hesitated but didn’t look back. “We’ll take our chances,” he said, his voice steady.
Back at the small inn, within the room that they had rented for the night, Harry spread out the map they’d purchased after leaving the dock. The crude, colorful lines represented the rivers and trade routes of Essos, and Harry traced his finger from Pentos to Meereen.
“It looks like there are regular trade ships heading south,” Harry said. “Should be simple enough to book passage to Meereen and then find someone willing to take us up one of these rivers.”
Jon frowned, leaning over the map. “And after that? You heard them. Riding across Dothraki lands isn’t just dangerous—it’s suicidal. We wouldn’t exactly be blending in, Harry.”
“I know it’s dangerous,” Harry admitted. “But we’ve faced dangerous before. And I think … well, I can’t explain it, but it feels right.”
Jon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I agreed to come with you because I trust you. But that trust doesn’t make me blind. If this goes wrong—”
“We’ll be careful,” Harry interrupted. “We’ll figure out a way to get there without drawing attention.”
Jon stared at him for a long moment before nodding reluctantly. “Fine. But if you start having second thoughts, tell me. I don’t plan to die in the middle of Essos.”
“Agreed.”
The next morning, they returned to the docks to find a ship headed for Meereen. After a few hours of negotiating. They finally settled on a price with a shrewd Braavosi man who demanded the least exorbitant fee and they secured passage. The ship, Sea Spirit, was larger than the one they’d arrived on, with a crew of seasoned sailors and a hold filled with spices and silks bound for the markets of Slaver’s Bay.
As the ship set sail just after the sun peaked in the sky, Harry and Jon stood at the bow, watching Pentos fade into the horizon. The city had been their first step into a new world, and now they were leaving it behind, heading deeper into the unknown.
Jon crossed his arms, his expression unreadable as the wind tugged at his dark hair. “You really believe she’s worth all this trouble?”
Harry looked out at the open sea, his thoughts turning to the visions that had guided him this far. “I do. I really do.”
Jon nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Then let’s hope you’re right.”
Kind Regards,
FavoriteAuthor
If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it’s the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.
Story Note 1 – I’m really enjoying writing these Harry and Jon chapters and so glad they met up and are travelling together rather than Harry having to make this journey alone. I really hope you all are as well although please do let me know.
Story Note 2 – I know at the start of the character Jon might have felt just a little OOC when Harry was telling him about magic but I felt if he was alerted that someone he thought of as a friend knew magic he would get excited and perhaps act a little less serious than he usually did. Hope this came across alright though!
Story Note 3 – When I had originally planned the next couple chapters I had originally had about 8ish chapters of material planned with their adventures on the way to Meereen including stopping in the disputed lands, a three chapter arc in Volantis relating to magic, and then getting almost shipwrecked on the Basilisk Isles before finally arriving in Slavers Bay. However, I felt this took a little bit away from the story and instead will do the journey in one chapter (this means in two chapters Harry will meet Daenerys!!) However, if there is any interest I will post “The Sailing Adventures of Jon and Harry” separately. (Also that is not the actual name I had in mind but felt it would do in a pinch)
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.
Comments
Lightning8639
would like to read those other chapters in a separate thing. could be fun and if a part of it is a journey related to magic then it could impact the main story down the line I feel. either way, a good--if mostly filler--chapter.
