1

Death wasn't one to be easily annoyed. Yet here she was sitting at her desk pinching the area between her eyes trying to ward off the headache that was slowly forming. Just then a young man barged into her office.

"You called for me Deathikins?" said Harry, smiling smarmily.

"Ugg! Just sit down and shut up," she cried, sounding a bit harassed. "Harry what did I tell you about reincarnating people?"

"That I shouldn't do it without permission or at least a good reason," he said, sitting in the chair directly across from her desk.

"Then why did you bring that guy back as a flobberworm?" Death asked exasperatingly.

Harry smiled in a way that showed off his boyish charm. 'That little punk,' Death thought. He knew she couldn't resist that stupid smile!

"I did what you told me to do. I went to collect his soul, but he was being very annoying. Please I'm not ready! Just give me some more time! Please send me back! God he was irritating. I just gave him what he wanted. I hope the little twerp ends up as a potion ingredient," he said, kicking his feet up on her desk. Death scowled and slapped his feet off.

'Sometimes that boy is too much,' she thought. It had been nearly eight thousand Earth years since she brought him into what the higher ups called Afterlife Inc. She never regretted it either. Not even now. Harry was a wonderful man. He could act with a lack of morals when need be but could also be very compassionate. He would take the souls of adults without question, but he always disliked taking the soul of a child. She knew how much it bothered him. That was one of the many reasons why she had such a soft spot for him. Most of the Immortals lose their morality sooner rather than later. Harry still had his, for the most part. His previous assignment was to take the soul of a small child into the afterlife. He was always a bit touchy after that, as Mr. Flobberworm had just found out.

"Harry you've been working for too long without a break. You've never even taken a vacation. I've taken three in the same amount of time!"

All of the Immortals loved taking vacations. They usually lasted a few hundred years. You could go to any plane of existence in the omniverse. Once your preferred "verse" was chosen, you could travel there and do anything you wanted! You just had to fill out the paper work and that verse was considered a write-off. She personally liked going to some space faring verse and becoming a Sith Lord. She loved Star Wars.

"You're right," Harry said, rubbing his temples. "I've been trying to work harder than everyone else. I'm the new guy after all."

"I know Harry, but you're not new anymore. Since you came on board several have retired and new ones have been added," she said, fading out of her chair and appearing behind Harry. Fading was what the immortals called their own brand of teleportation. She started massaging his shoulders as he moaned in relaxation. "Even though I'm your boss I never order you to do anything unless I have no choice. I am however giving you an order now. Take an extra long vacation. At least five hundred years. Do anything you want. Have fun, relax, impregnate an entire planet of women, or go on a murderous rampage in your quest for world domination. I don't care as long as you enjoy yourself," Death said kindly, leaning down to hug him from behind and incidentally nuzzling his neck with her face. She really loved how he smelled!

Harry closed his eyes and reached an arm back to gently scratch her scalp. She always seemed to enjoy when he did that. "I think I will take a vacation. I've been pretty stressed lately. I have no idea where to go though."

Death smile and kissed his neck. His head scratching really got her motor running! "Is there any time or place that you've wanted to witness first hand?" she asked.

"Well when I was a kid I thought it would be pretty cool to experience the medieval times," he said giggly. His neck was ticklish.

"I know just the place!" she said excitedly. She had been watching a particular verse, trying to decide where to vacation next. She quickly ruled it out though. Death wasn't a fan of places without running water. She was useless without her morning showers.

"Wicked! So what do I need to do?" asked Harry, squirming a bit in his seat. He was ready to go now! Harry felt that he really needed to take a break before he ended up doing something stupid. Death chuckled and kissed the top of his head before returning to her seat.

"Don't worry about the paperwork. I'll take care of that. First we need to go over the ground rules. For the most part, there are none. The only exceptions are first, you can't take any divine objects with you. You'll need to leave your mirror here with me." Every Immortal had one. They used it as a sort of television. You could use it to peer into any world in any verse. They were very entertaining. She had caught Harry on more than one occasion peeping on busty, blonde women showering.

"The only other rule is that you're not allowed to keep your higher powers while gone. That means no soul-reaping and no resurrections," she said, filling out the necessary forms. "You'll still keep your lower powers, magic, physical enhancements, and your ability to Fade. Any questions?" she asked.

"How do I get there and how do I get back?" Harry asked while standing up and stretching his back.

"Don't worry. I'll send you there. When you're ready to come back just call out for me and I'll bring you home," she answered, snapping her fingers and sending the forms to wherever it is that forms go. Personally she hoped they ended up in the lowest depths of hell. "I should also tell you that you'll have to be born into the world. We all have to go through it when vacationing. Before you ask, I really don't know the reason why. The Creator insists on it. Something about learning to appreciate mortal life. Pfft! Who cares!" Harry nodded even though he really didn't want to go through childhood again. It was annoying enough the first time.

"Can I take my bag?" Harry asked hopefully, patting his Indiana Jones styled satchel that hung around his shoulder. Harry thought Indiana Jones was the coolest movie character ever. He created it to have near infinite amounts of space. It was full of goodies that he collected over the years. Mostly food, snacks, and treats. The food here in the Void was good and all but he still preferred Earth food.

"Yes Harry. You made the bag yourself so it's not Divine. Though I will admit it's pretty awesome. I use the one you gave me for Christmas all the time! I suggest you leave it in a pocket dimension until you're ready to retrieve it. Now if you don't have anymore questions..." Harry shook his head, taking her advice and putting his satchel away. "Good. Now just stand there and don't move, and I'll send you on your way. Remember to have fun and don't do anything that I wouldn't do." Death pulled out a purple, glowing orb and pointed it at Harry. Harry noticed the orb pulsating faster and faster until there was a continuous purple light emanating from within its depth. It was that moment that Harry felt his higher powers leave him and he disappeared with a loud crack.

________HPxGoT________

'God damn Death!' Harry thought. A bastard. Him! Harry James Potter! Soul Reaper Extraordinaire and self-titled 'God's gift to women', born a bastard! Harry knew Death did it on purpose. She was probably having a real good laugh right about now. He really didn't mind though. It was annoying that these people cared so much about legitimacy.

Thank the Creator that he didn't have to experience birth. He came into being right after. He was currently being wrapped in a blanket. Being so warm was making him a bit sleepy. At least it was until a very large breast was stuck in his face! Harry sighed mentally. It was going to be awhile before he had some steak and eggs. He looked up while nursing. His mother was quite pretty. She appeared to be a commoner if the state of her clothes were anything to go by. Harry used legilimency on her and found out her name was Viola and his father was a man named Jaime Lannister. Both his father and mother were teenagers. He also learned his paternal grandfather, a man named Tywin, had paid her to give him up so he could be raised in a place called Casterly Rock. At first he was quite angry until he stopped to think. The girl was poor and probably couldn't support a child. No man would marry a single mother with a bastard child. From what she knew of Tywin, he was a hard man who cared very much about how others perceived his family. He definitely wouldn't want her hanging around his son and grandchild. Harry didn't know why his grandfather wanted him at Casterly Rock. Tywin seemed like the kind of man that would have him "taken care of" quickly and quietly. That must have meant that he had some kind of plan for him. It didn't much matter to Harry. He wasn't someone that would be a puppet to another person's will. At least he'd have a safe, comfortable place to grow up. He'd have to use some Compulsion Charms to make sure he was named Harold. He really didn't want some weirdo name.

Casterly Rock 286 AC

Eight year old Harold Hill was sitting in his room reading a book about the history of Essos. The years since his birth had been kind to him. He had used his magic to make himself grow larger than he normally would have grown. He made sure not to go overboard, being about a head taller than other boys his age. He had jet black hair that was slightly longer than shoulder length and emerald green eyes that shown brighter than any other Lannister could claim. It was said by many that he greatly resembled his father, excluding hair color of course. Harry made sure to use his powers to ensure devastating good looks. Immortals were vain creatures after all.

Since the day he was brought to the Rock, he was well cared for and educated. The Maesters even claimed him a genius. That was something that interested his grandfather. He never spent much time with Tywin Lannister. Though once a month he had dinner with the old lion where he was usually questioned about how his studies were going, among other things. Life as a bastard wasn't too bad for Harry. If he had to guess, he would say that being the grandson of the notoriously cruel Lord Tywin kept people from mouthing off and kept the insults to a bare minimum. The few that did have something negative to say to him quickly found themselves with a severely itchy asshole courtesy of a curse or two. He didn't spend much time with his father either since his joining of the Kingsguard. He didn't mind though. He very much enjoyed spending time with his uncle Tyrion. The dwarf was quite fun to be around. His aunt Cersei was an enigma that amused him to no end. Every time she visited Casterly Rock, she would make a habit of seeking him out. Sometimes she would lace him with honeyed words, and other times he would catch her glaring at him. Harry really didn't know what to make of the woman. He honestly didn't know if she wanted to fuck him or kill him. Possibly one after the other. In which order Harry couldn't say. At times she could make a man do anything she desired with a few sweet words and the batting of her beautiful eyes, and other times she could be a real hell beast content to destroy everything and everyone. Harry didn't pay it much mind though. What she did was her own business and if she ever crossed the line, Tywin would handle it.

Earlier in the day, Lord Tywin had called Harry into his study. It was his nameday and the old lion would usually give him a gift or two. This year he gave him a sack of gold dragons.

"No need to count them Harold. There is one thousand dragons in there," he said, near blank faced. Tywin rarely showed any emotions other than anger and annoyance.

"Thank you grandfather. This is very generous of you," Harry replied sincerely. He had never gotten anything so valuable from him. Tywin waved it off. Harry knew he didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart so he took a peak into his mind. Sure enough, it was another one of his little tests for Harry. The old bastard sure did love his tests. He wanted to see what Harry would do with it. Would he spend it on useless trinkets? Would he save it? Tywin surely wanted to find out. After being dismissed from the old man's office, Harry contemplated about what he would use it for. Once he reached his mid teens Harry wanted to travel to Essos and beyond. For that, he needed gold. Lots of it. Sure, with his powers he could do anything he wanted without requiring a single copper. But there was no fun in that. There was no challenge, and life would surely grow boring. He soon created a list of different money making ventures that he could now fund.

Putting his book down, he left his room and Casterly Rock and traveled the three quarter mile journey south to Lannisport. Lannisport was a large walled, port city on the coast of the Sunset Sea. It was a great place for Harry to start a business. Lannisport was always filled with traveling merchants, nobles, knights, and seafarers. A lot of gold passed through the city and Harry was determined to get his fair share. It took him awhile to find a suitable warehouse. This one was close to the eastern wall in one of the less visited districts. As such it wasn't doing well financially. It looked to once have stored saddles, bridles, and other equipment for horses but was nearly empty now. Harry walked in and found the owner.

"Are you the owner of this warehouse?" Harry asked the old man. The old man was tall with lean muscles and pepper grayed hair and beard.

"Aye. What do you want?" he asked in a no nonsense kind of way.

"I'm Harold Hill," Harry stated, watching the man's eyes widen. Harry was well known in Lannisport and most knew he was under Lord Tywin's protection.

"What can I do for you young Harold?" he asked eagerly, quickly changing his tune.

"It looks as if this place is going out of business," he stated.

"Aye. I cannot compete with that new shop that opened up closer to the port. Sold most of me stock and plannin' to move to Pink Maiden to be closer to me sons," he said sadly.

"I'd like to buy the warehouse from you," Harry said, pulling his money pouch out of his satchel.

"Really?" he asked greedily. Harry guessed he hadn't gotten any offers for it.

"Yes. I'll give you ten gold dragons and not a copper more," Harry stated firmly. The man thought about it for for a second before quickly agreeing. He wasn't likely to get a better offer any time soon. Harry handed over the gold and received the deed to the building in return. He told the man he had three days to sell or move the rest of his meager belongings. Once the three days were up he returned to find it completely empty. The warehouse was in fairly decent shape. The clay shingled roof was held aloft by thick timber beams. The walls were made of red fired bricks, and the floor of thick, wooden planks. A few cleaning and repair charms worked wonders. Harry conjured one hundred new Gutenberg printing presses which he would now call the Lannister printing press, two hundred leather inkers, and tens of thousands of removable, steel letter texts. The hard part would be finding one hundred literate people to work for him. First he needed to figure out what to print. He decided to print a book based on his "new" idea, the Atlas. He truly loved taking credit for other people's hard work and ideas. An Atlas would be quite useful in this world. It would show detailed maps and give useful information about any particular kingdom, city, or region. He would print one for Westeros and Essos separately in both the Common Tongue and High Valyrian. Twice the amount of profits. Eventually he would try and contact both the Citadel and the Faith. He was sure they had many books or texts that they wanted mass produced.

After he had made a stockpile of different books, he would look into opening a bookstore in the busier part of the city. Now he needed ink and paper. All he needed was a decent supply and he could use his magic to make that supply last indefinitely. Ink and paper were easily found in one of the shops that he knew supplied Casterly Rock with quills, paper, and ink. A gold dragon got him a good supply and after a quick Obliviation, he packed his supplies into his satchel. He had to wait at least a couple months before he started producing books. As soon as his business really started, his grandfather would know about it. It would seem strange that he suddenly had all these new machines without taking the time to realistically have them produced. He would use that time to think of other books to print, and find suitable employees to work the presses. Harry spent the rest of the day walking throughout Lannisport searching for any other troubled businesses that he could possibly purchase. There weren't many and the ones that he could find were not really worth buying. The only one he did purchase was a small blacksmith shop. He bought it from a woman who's blacksmith husband had recently died. He gave her a few dragons and sent her on her way. He figured that a small blacksmith shop could make him some decent coin. All he needed to do was find some old steel weapons and duplicate them over and over and he would have a large supply of steel ready to be turned into hinges and nails and anything else made of metal. The best part would be that he could sell it cheaper than anyone else since he didn't have to pay for scrap metal. Harry quickly did just that. He bought a dozen old and broken steel swords from another blacksmith, and once back in his own shop, duplicated them hundreds of times over. Three new blacksmiths were quickly hired. They were young and inexperienced so no one else would give them a job. Harry paid them a starting bonus of a five silver stags each and told them to start crafting items that could be quickly produced and would sell easily. Harry wasn't taking any chances though. With a bit of mind magic, the three were instantly loyal and wouldn't try to cheat him. Instructions were given, and Harry told them that he would be back in a fortnight to look over the newly crafted stock. Harry also told them to see what other blacksmiths were charging for similar goods so they could charge less. They were also instructed to send a message to Harry when their supply of steel began to run low.

All in all, Harry felt it was a very productive day. Returning to the Rock, he was keen on having himself a nice hot bath and a good night's sleep. As Harry lied in bed he thought about his life growing up in Casterly Rock. It really wasn't bad at all. Sure his father was never here and even when he was, didn't spend a great deal of time with him. He would occasionally give him sword lessons which were pretty cool. The servants loved Harry though. Especially the female servants. All he would have to do is smile and they would coo and hang all over him. Harry always had that effect on women though. It was something to do with his divine powers. It was once explained to him in detail by Death, but he was too busy playing Connect Four with another Reaper and wasn't paying attention. At age six he was told by Tywin that he would begin combat training. That really excited Harry. A big reason why he wanted to vacation in a medieval world was because he wanted to play with swords. The reason was juvenile, but he didn't care. He just thought they were cool and never got a chance in his original world. Harry had to be careful though since his strength, speed, and reflexes were so far beyond human level. He had a great time with the sword and archery lessons. His instructors called him a natural talent. Even his grandfather looked proud on the few occasions he would come out to observe.

Harry thought about what he wanted out of this life. Did he want a simple life? 'Hell no!' he thought. He wanted action and adventure. Did he want to rule this archaic world? On that he wasn't sure. It was possible but seemed like more trouble than it was worth. Perhaps he could build his own small kingdom and rule it with an iron fist, just him and his wife and several dozen mistresses. Harry laughed at the thought. Several dozen mistresses? A being of his stature and power definitely deserved it. It actually sounded pretty good. 'Me likey the sound of that!' Harry giggled in a very immature fashion. No one ever accused him of being mature though. All of that would have to wait though. He hadn't even gone through puberty yet. Harry glared down at his limp and floppy cock. 'All in good time my precious,' he thought as sleep settled over him.