Prologue

At over 200 years old, Harry Potter's life came to a peaceful end in the comfort of his bed. In his final moments, surrounded by memories of a long and eventful life, he found himself reflecting on the extraordinary journey he had embarked upon.

Throughout his extended lifespan, Harry had witnessed the world change in ways he could never have imagined during his youth. The Wizarding World evolved, technology advanced, and magic continued to be a force intertwined with the fabric of human existence.

As Harry closed his eyes for the last time, memories of his loved ones—Hermione, Ron, and his wives—flashed through his mind. He thought of the battles fought against dark forces, the friendships forged in times of adversity, and the moments of quiet joy with his family.

In his final breath, Harry Potter felt a profound sense of fulfillment. He had lived a life marked by courage, compassion, and resilience. The echoes of his adventures would continue to resonate through the generations to come, a testament to the enduring power of love and bravery.

And as his spirit departed from the mortal realm, Harry Potter left behind a legacy that would forever be remembered in the hearts of those who knew him and the countless lives he touched.

—

As Harry Potter peacefully breathed his last, he found himself transitioning into a realm where time and space seemed to blend into a surreal landscape. Before him stood a figure cloaked in darkness, yet radiating a sense of profound calmness and understanding.

"Harry Potter," the figure spoke, its voice echoing softly yet carrying a weight of eternity.

Harry, now detached from his earthly form but still imbued with his essence, regarded the figure with a mix of curiosity and acceptance. He had encountered Death before, in tales and legends, but facing it now felt different—familiar yet surreal.

"Is this the end?" Harry asked, his voice steady despite the enormity of the moment.

Death inclined its head slightly. "For your mortal journey, yes. You have lived beyond the ordinary span of human life."

Harry reflected on his long life, filled with triumphs and losses, love and sorrow. Memories flashed before him—the warmth of Gryffindor common room, the thrill of Quidditch victories, the faces of loved ones who had departed before him.

"What comes next?" Harry inquired, more out of curiosity than fear.

Death, shrouded in an aura of serenity, regarded Harry Potter with an understanding gaze. "You have reached the end of your mortal journey, Harry Potter," Death intoned softly. "But your path forward is not yet decided. You have a choice."

Harry listened intently, his curiosity now tinged with a sense of wonder at the possibilities Death presented.

"You may move on to the great beyond, where your spirit will find eternal peace and reunion with those who have passed before you," Death explained, its voice carrying a soothing cadence. "Alternatively, you can choose to be reborn into a new world, one known as Planetos."

Harry's mind raced with questions. "Planetos?" he repeated, intrigued by the unfamiliar name.

"Yes," Death confirmed. "Planetos is a world where magic is woven deeply into the fabric of existence, where ancient mysteries and powerful forces shape the lives of its inhabitants. It is a realm of kingdoms and dragons, of noble houses and ancient prophecies."

Images began to form in Harry's mind—vivid landscapes, towering castles, and the echoes of mythical creatures. The prospect of a new adventure, of discovering a world where magic manifested in ways different from his own, stirred a sense of excitement within him.

"What would my role be in this new world?" Harry asked, his voice alive with curiosity.

"In Planetos, your destiny would be yours to shape," Death replied. "You could become a legend, a hero, or a guiding force for those who seek light in times of darkness. The choice would be yours, as it has always been."

As Harry stood at the threshold between his old life and the new realm of Planetos, torn between the allure of adventure and the longing to be reunited with his loved ones, Death sensed his inner struggle. The ethereal presence of Death, ever compassionate yet bound by the laws of existence, spoke gently to Harry.

"Harry Potter," Death began, its voice resonating with a profound understanding of the human spirit, "I sense your heart's desire—to embark on a new journey filled with possibilities, yet yearning for the companionship and love of those you held dear in your previous life."

Harry nodded slowly, his emotions stirring within him. "Yes," he admitted, his voice soft but resolute. "I want to explore this new world, but I also ache to see them again, to know they are safe and happy."

Death paused, its presence seeming to shimmer with an ancient wisdom. "As a boon to you, my champion," Death continued, "I can grant you a gift—a promise that you will cross paths with some of your loved ones in this new world of Planetos. They too have chosen rebirth, drawn by their own destinies and desires."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at Death's words. The thought of reuniting with Hermione, Ron, Sirius, and his wives who had been his steadfast companions throughout his life filled him with a profound sense of hope and comfort.

"How will I find them?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.

"In the tapestry of fate that weaves through Planetos," Death's voice echoed gently, "your paths will intersect when the time is right. Trust in the currents of destiny, for they will guide you towards those whose souls resonate with yours."

Harry listened intently, absorbing Death's wisdom. The promise of reunion with his loved ones filled him with both anticipation and a touch of uncertainty.

"However," Death continued solemnly, "be mindful that in this new world, the faces and forms of your loved ones may differ from what you remember. Bodies change, features shift, but the essence of who they are remains."

Harry felt a pang of realization. The thought of encountering Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and others with unfamiliar appearances stirred mixed emotions within him. Yet, he understood that their souls—their core identities—would transcend physical differences.

"Will I recognize them?" Harry asked, voicing his concern.

Death's presence seemed to shimmer with reassurance. "Yes," Death affirmed, "you will recognize them by the bonds that tie your souls together, by the familiarity that goes beyond outward appearances. Trust in the connections forged by love and friendship."

Harry nodded, a sense of resolve settling within him. "I will," he said with conviction.

With a gentle nod from Death, Harry stepped forward into the vast expanse of Planetos, prepared to navigate the twists and turns of fate that would lead him to his loved ones once more. Armed with the knowledge that their reunion would transcend physical form, Harry embarked on his new journey with a heart filled with hope and determination to find those whose souls resonated deeply with his own.

—

The year was 262 AC, and the halls of Storm's End echoed with the distant crash of thunder, a fitting accompaniment to the storm that raged outside. Inside the ancient castle, amidst flickering torchlight and the scent of burning incense, Lady Cassana Baratheon labored under the watchful eyes of maesters and midwives.

Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, paced anxiously in the antechamber adjacent to the birthing chamber. His brow furrowed with concern, yet his heart swelled with anticipation and hope. This was a moment he had awaited with both joy and apprehension—the birth of his children, twins foretold by the maesters, whose arrival would shape the future of House Baratheon.

In the dimly lit room, Cassana's labor intensified, her face flushed with exertion yet bearing a serene determination. The maester attending to her nodded reassuringly, his skilled hands guiding her through each contraction with practiced ease.

At last, after what felt like an eternity yet passed in the blink of an eye, the moment of birth arrived. With one final push, Cassana brought forth her first child into the world—a boy, strong and healthy, his cries piercing the air like a clarion call amidst the storm.

Steffon hurried into the birthing chamber, his heart leaping with joy and relief. He approached his wife's side, where she lay exhausted yet radiant, cradling their newborn son in her arms.

"We have a son, Cassana," Steffon murmured softly, his voice filled with awe and pride.

Cassana smiled wearily, her eyes sparkling with love and relief. "A son," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

The maester carefully tended to the newborn, wrapping him in soft linens and checking his health with meticulous care. Steffon gazed upon his son, marveling at the tiny fingers and wisps of dark hair that adorned his head. In that moment, he knew that this child—Orys Baratheon, as he would be named—carried within him the legacy of House Baratheon, a future yet to unfold.

Outside, the storm began to relent, its fury gradually subsiding as if heralding the dawn of a new era. In the warmth and safety of Storm's End, surrounded by loved ones and the promise of a bright future, Harry Potter had been reborn as Orys Baratheon, eldest twin to Robert Baratheon, destined to leave his mark on the pages of history in the world of Planetos.

---

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