11: Atlas VI

It seemed Hogwarts' expansion beyond New Hogsmeade was finally getting underway. The Tyrell visit and stay was the catalyst for that but we'd been planning it for a while now. However, plans changed and adjusted to fit new information and the state of affairs in the Seven Kingdoms. Now, they were going into effect.

Before anything else, certain… systems needed to be established. A part of our plans as they changed and shifted. As it was, two of Hogwarts' staff would be heading south ahead of everyone else. Their goal was simple in theory but more challenging in execution. They'd be putting a support system in place for displaced Witches and Wizards to call upon if they needed to.

What that meant was initially up for debate. But a shadowy organization within Hogwarts quickly came to the fore. One that was known but never acknowledged… The Hogwarts Cartel. As such, there was only one person who could lead this first 'expedition'. The head honcho of herbology herself, Professor Sprout.

Sprout had a very specific set of skills. Strange ones that most would never expect from her. To the casual viewer, she seemed the perfect picture of a little old gardening lady. Hufflepuff, her favorite students, and the staff knew better… Now, Sprout was set to venture south, take names, crack heads, and generally spread the Hogwarts Cartel's influence throughout Westeros' criminal underworld.

Poor Snape was being dragged along for the ride. It was rare that I felt bad for the man but being rendered as a sidekick for Pomona 'Devil's Snare' Sprout was one of those times. Though she didn't seem it on the outside, Sprout was one of the last people in Hogwarts someone wanted to mess with. Something that Westeros was sure to find out in the coming days.

The purpose of their mission south would be important twofold. Firstly, the aforementioned support structure. 'Criminal' organizations like the Hogwarts Cartel had a tendency to spread. Everywhere the students went, they would have a force of wrangled ruffians to call upon. And Sprout would keep the criminals under her banner in line. It wasn't even a question. As bad as I felt for Snape, he would face nothing compared to the criminals of Westeros. A reckoning was coming. Soon, the Seven Kingdoms would feel the roots of the Devil's Snare…

Secondly, having such sway over the Westerosi underworld would give Hogwarts an information network to call its own. A slightly overenthusiastic method of spying. But effective. We couldn't be everywhere. Sprout and Snape's work there would ensure we were kept up-to-date and provide a significant source of income on the side.

Most of the Witches and Wizards who wanted to venture out on their own had chosen somewhere they wished to 'foster'. But that was just on our end of things. Now, Hogwarts would begin reaching out to castles and Houses from here in the North to Dorne. Negotiations and arrangements would take a while longer. At the moment, the only one set in stone was the Weasleys going back to Highgarden with Willas Tyrell.

The girls had told me about Olenna's arrangement as soon as they could. How she wished to see me betrothed to her granddaughter Margaery. Lovely girl. Intelligent, beautiful, and if Heather's teasing was anything to go by, Margaery was hiding a rather curiously lewd side…

But I was glad that Dumbledore put his foot down there. I was fine with courting Margaery and even forming a more concrete connection with the Tyrells. Willas seemed a good bloke. And having a political demon like Olenna on my side could only be a good thing. Still, I was much happier to take things at our own pace and give the girl room to refuse if we didn't get along. My betrothal with Daphne was enough arranged marriage for one life.

Narcissa advised me to closely consider the arrangement. As did Daphne, Pansy, and Gabrielle. I trusted their political acumen so I agreed that I would, but also said that the final decision would be mine and Margaery's to make. Something I made clear to Olenna as well. The Queen of Thorns took that much better than I'd been expecting.

"My Margaery will win you over," She was utterly confident that would be the case.

Margaery would certainly have the chance to try. She and her Grandmother would be staying for a year — after Willas returned to the Reach — to court the coven and train Margaery's magic. That last bit would likely be the subject of some envy. No other noble House in Westeros was getting magical training from Hogwarts. Not yet at least. There was, however, talk of extending such an offer to the Starks and Manderlys — our closest and most faithful allies so far.

Before Willas left, the Tyrells were to take a trip to Winterfell. A necessary ordeal. As a Great House, they couldn't be seen visiting the North without also visiting the Lord Paramount. It simply wasn't proper. As an extension of friendship — and because we hadn't visited the capital holding of the North so far either — representatives from Hogwarts would be going along with them.

We had our own business to attend to during that visit as well. Cedric and Cho were two of the older 'students' set to leave the proverbial nest and they'd expressed a desire to stay in the North when they did. It felt only right to start their journey with a fostering at Winterfell with the Starks. A bit of political theater, that. Cedric and Cho were important players within Hogwarts, carrying over from Cedric's short time as Minister. Extending their offer to the Starks — the first of Hogwarts to foster, at that — would be a way to show favor for our most pivotal ally.

Outside of them, the visiting party was kept small. The coven stepped forward, happy to begin asserting ourselves as the 'face of Hogwarts'. There wasn't another House better suited to the task at the moment. Combined with House Black, we were the largest bloc within Hogwarts and had shouldered the appropriate responsibilities to go along with that claim. In a way, we held as much sway as the staff — something a few of us (*cough* Narcissa *cough*) were most assuredly smug about.

Myself, Heather, Fleur, Daphne, and Luna — plus Cedric and Cho — would be traveling with the Tyrells to Winterfell. Of course, that meant a dreadful prospect was in store for us… The actual traveling part of that equation.

For this trip, brooms were out of the question. They were an advantage — one that couldn't be overstated — that we wanted to keep secret as long as possible, even from our allies like the Tyrells and Starks. On a broom, I could fly the entire length of Westeros and back in a week tops. That kind of game-changer was best kept close to our chests. And that wasn't even mentioning Apparition, which was unfortunately also out this time. We couldn't Apparate to places we hadn't been, after all, but once we had, instant transportation was immensely valuable even in modern-day Earth, must less Westeros.

Still, the need for secrecy and letting our new friends keep up with us meant we were in for long days on horseback or in the Tyrell wheelhouse. Really roughing it native style… Something all of us quickly found to be a boring pain in the ass. At the very least, we were allowed the comfort of magical tents at night. They were also advantageous enough to keep secret but much less so than brooms or Apparition.

The week of mundane travel to Winterfell gave us plenty of time to get to know our new friends.

"Ah. My aching old bones," Olenna deadpanned rather loudly and pointedly. "If only I had room to stretch my legs in this cramped, mundane carriage."

"The answer's still no, Olenna," I deadpanned right back.

"Curse you, Atlas," She scowled. "Didn't anyone teach you to respect your elders?"

"Albus taught me the exact opposite, actually," I retorted.

"Blasted old goat is ruining the pliable youth for the rest of us…"

Olenna's grumbles drifted through the propped open window of the wheelhouse. I rode along beside it to facilitate conversation. Cedric, Heather, and Luna rode with me, while Cho, Fleur, and Daphne joined the two Tyrell women inside. Willas — wishing to use his healed leg as much as possible — rode out ahead with some of the Tyrell men.

There were certainly times over the past week that I wanted to join the Ladies in the carriage. Put bluntly, riding a horse for any extended period of time bloody sucked. Oh, taking one out for a gallop could be fun. It still lacked the speed and freedom of a broom but there was something to be said about the bond between rider and steed. But trotting along for miles on end? I'd gladly never ride a horse again after this trip.

"Your magic still amazes me, Atlas," Margaery praised. "To think one could experience greater comfort in a tent than in a castle's main keep… Before this trip, I would have thought it unimaginable."

"Yes, now convince him to do the same to our wheelhouse, Granddaughter," Olenna urged.

"I quite like this carriage," Fleur sniffed arrogantly. "It is cozy and homely."

"Quaint," Daphne added with the barest hint of a smirk.

Olenna's scowl deepened but if I looked closely enough I could see a slight upward twitch to her lips, "How bold…"

"Your magic isn't anything to scoff at either, Margaery," I said. "Less versatile, yes. But also more potent for that."

"But surely, you're 'spells' could accomplish much of the same," Margaery humbly demurred.

"Sure," Cedric nodded. "Professor Sprout is nothing if not an old hand with plants. But even she doesn't have the same control over them that you show."

"Your magic is something to be proud of," I continued. "And a connection to your ancestor as well. The bloodlines we've seen so far have been uniquely amazing."

"Amazing, eh?" Olenna asked shrewdly. "And what bloodline magicks have you identified already?"

"Woefully few," I answered, shaking my head. "The Golden Tongue of the Lannisters from an unrecognized bastard who settled in New Hogsmeade. She has an ability that's essentially, 'Words of Power', backed up by uniquely golden magic. But she was the only one with any idea of her lineage."

Olenna frowned thoughtfully but didn't say anything more.

"I imagine the Starks won't be bereft of a bloodline magic," Margaery opined.

"Likely," Daphne flatly agreed. "But the question is if they'll awaken it."

Olenna scoffed, "There are five of them in this new generation already. Six if you count the bastard boy. This 'awakening' isn't a common phenomenon so far but it's hardly rare either."

"Here's hoping~!" Luna chimed. "Robb was such a cute Young Wolf. I hope he can awaken his claws and paws."

"Not Jon?" Cedric asked, raising an eyebrow. "He has Stark blood too. Wouldn't he awaken whatever their gift is as well?"

Luna giggled in that quintessentially 'Luna' way of hers, "Shhh~! It's still a secret! He should know now but we aren't supposed to tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Olenna asked intently. It seemed she'd already learned that there was more to Luna than a first glance showed.

"Secret secret~," Luna singsonged.

"Regardless of Luna and Jon's secret," I said, pointedly changing the subject. "We won't know anything for a few more hours yet. So, Margaery, to pass the time, tell me about your mythical ancestor. The one who supposedly seeded your bloodline magic."

"Gladly, my Lord-…" Margaery paused when I gave her a stern look. "*Ahem* Gladly, Atlas."

The barely-there smile told me she knew exactly what she was doing with that verbal slip, "There are many legends about Garth Greenhand. In some, he's the King who led the First Men across the Arm of Dorne before it was shattered. In stranger, more rare ones, he was always here on Westeros. The first man before First Men, if you will. He's said to have communed with the Children of the Forest and made the Reach bloom into the fertile land it is today. He taught men to farm and he walked as a god upon the earth…"

That was how we spent the rest of the journey to Winterfell. Margaery educated us on the tales of her ancestor, a man who lived 10,000 years ago yet was still remembered. This world was a bit odd like that… Still, it made for good conversation. And soon enough, an imposing, awesome gray fortress — almost as old as Margaery's ancestor — loomed into view.

IIIII

"Welcome to Winterfell. Please, let us partake in bread and salt. You are guests here."

Ned Stark greeted us in the main courtyard of the castle. His Household was all there as well. A beautiful and noble-looking woman with long auburn hair who could only be the Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Stark, stood beside Ned. Their children were lined up in an interesting arrangement. One I'm sure Olenna and Margaery would be taking note of.

Robb grinned at me and Cedric from beside his father. A happy, wolfish expression that quickly fell away into a slight blush as he saw the girls (and likely remembered how they were dressed when he first encountered them). Jon was beside Robb, wearing that same stoic expression that we'd briefly gotten to know a little more than a year ago.

The fact that both boys — trueborn and bastard — stood at their father's side said… something. I wasn't sure exactly what. A sign that Jon had been more readily accepted into the family since their visit to Hogwarts? I was sure Daphne could elaborate more but it seemed like a good sign.

On the mother's side of the line, the rest of the Stark children stood in decreasing order of age. The first was a young girl of about 14 who took after her mother's auburn hair and noble looks. She was blushing brilliantly, her eyes darting between me, Cedric, and Willas, seemingly not having an ounce of attention to spare for anyone else. She very much looked like all of her dreams were suddenly coming true.

Beside her was another girl, favoring her father instead of her mother. She looked like she wanted to move, a tightly wound bundle of energy that hated restraining herself like this. The boy beside her was similar but he seemed more content to keep himself under control, at least temporarily. The youngest Stark held his older brother's hand, still just a little tyke.

Servants and men-at-arms watched from the sidelines. Someone came to help us off our horses, and from there, Willas helped Olenna dismount the carriage, Cedric helped Cho, and I helped Margaery. Then Fleur and Daphne as well. They would never have let me hear the end of it otherwise.

Fleur practically swooned in my arms. A scene that was likely unseemly for noble company. She didn't care one whit. She leaned heavily on me, looking up with lidded eyes. Her Allure smoldered in the air. I saw the Ladies Stark — the mother and her eldest daughter — go wide-eyed at the display. The mother, in disapproval. The daughter, in… something else.

"Merci, my noble beloved~," Fleur purred. "You never fail to treat me as you should~."

I rolled my eyes but didn't shove her off of me. I didn't have to. Daphne came up behind her and chopped her on the head. Fleur let out a pitiful whine.

"Behave," Daphne flatly chided. "You're giving our hosts the right impression."

Margaery tittered behind her hand, "Shouldn't that be the 'wrong impression'?"

"Unfortunately," Daphne deadpanned. "No. This is exactly who she is."

"Sharpen up, young man. Control your Ladies," Olenna chided. "Don't go disgracing our hosts any longer."

"I can hardly be held accountable for Fleur," I shot back. "No one can."

"She's persistent~!" Luna chimed. "And persistence pays off~! Except for when it doesn't~! Which is often for Fleur~!"

"Exactly. Well said, Luna," I nodded matter-of-factly.

"Nonsense! I always triumph~!" Fleur scoffed.

"Ahem…!" The Lady of Winterfell pointedly cleared her throat. She tried for a stern, chastising glare. She had nothing on Professor McGonagall.

Still, I walked forward to greet the Starks. Olenna, Margaery, and Willas were on one side. The girls plus Cedric and Cho were on the other.

"Thank you for hosting us, Lord Stark," I said, taking the lead before Olenna undoubtedly could. "I'm sure you, Robb, and Jon remember those of us from Hogwarts. House Tyrell was visiting us for personal business so we thought it would be prudent to tag along when they journeyed to Winterfell. I hope we're not imposing."

Ned nodded back at me, stoic but not truly tense, "Lord Black. It's good to see you and yours again. Lord and Ladies Tyrell, it's a pleasure to meet you for the first time."

"Lord Eddard," Olenna nodded as well. "You and your House are looking well."

We took part in the offered bread and salt, invoking Guest Rights. If there was any tension left in the courtyard, it dissolved with that. The Stark family was introduced and we reintroduced ourselves in turn. From there, the conversation was quickly taken away from the public eye. As we were led to a secondary hall to conduct our initial meeting, Robb came up beside me and Cedric with that excitable, wolfish grin of his.

"Lord Atlas, Lord Cedric, it's been too long! I have something I'd like to show you when you have a moment."

I couldn't help but notice Lady Catelyn visibly twitch at that where she walked ahead of us. Or how some of the other Stark children tried and failed to seem as if they weren't listening. The younger girl, Arya, didn't even attempt that much, barging into the conversation with the grace of a wolf.

"We get to show them?!"

Robb shrugged at his younger sister, "I don't see why not. They're allies. And they knew magic long before the rest of Westeros did."

"Had yourself a little 'awakening', eh, Young Wolf?" I joked.

"Huh, 'Young Wolf'…" Robb paused for a moment before grinning wider than before. "I like it!"

"You can thank Luna for that one," Cedric chuckled. "Luckily, it's one of her kinder nicknames."

"Yes, I'll have to thank Lady Luna for bestowing such a distinguishing title upon me," Robb nodded seriously. "I realize it's not a sign of her favor — considering your relationship, of course, Lord Atlas — but she does me a credit regardless."

"You're welcome~…" Luna said, somehow managing to sound miles away even though she was just behind us. "Magic seems to think you deserve it. And that you would have earned it anyway."

"All she did was say it a bit before its time," The second youngest Stark boy, Bran, agreed.

Robb and Arya glanced at Luna oddly with her words. Then the rest of us glanced at Bran in the same way with his. Luna flashed him a bright smile. Bran returned it shyly. Very odd, even by 'Luna' standards. It seemed the Stark magic wasn't only wolf-related…

We reached our destination and were seated around a table. Even the children, which was a good sign in my book. Olenna nodded, yielding the floor to me. The Tyrells hadn't really come out of anything more than obligation. We were the ones who had actual business with the Starks.

But before I could open my mouth to begin, Catelyn Stark came out swinging, "Take responsibility."

Heather poorly stifled a snort of humor. Luna didn't even try to hide her giggles. Robb and the eldest Stark daughter, Sansa, looked subtly horrified in the way only an embarrassing parent could evoke. Ned sighed wearily.

I just blinked, "I'm… sorry…?"

"You dare?!" Fleur gasped. "Atlas would never shirk responsibility! All of his children will be loved and cared for! His blessed seed is not easily spent, my Lady!"

Fleur's exaggerated misunderstanding brought the Lady of Winterfell up short, "I-… what?"

For some reason, Sansa Stark seemed to latch onto the misunderstanding as well, keeping it going as if she was trying to make Fleur proud, "Mother! I didn't lay with him, I swear! I never kissed his handsome face or submitted to his strong manly form, or w-wantonly d-dishonored myself so! I could not be with child! There is no responsibility to take!"

Catelyn paled, scarcely able to comprehend what was happening as Fleur's influence seemingly spread like a forest fire, "B-By the Maiden… That, That is not at all what I'm referring to! Sansa, calm yourself!"

Catelyn took a few moments to collect herself again. Sansa blushed up a storm, yet didn't seem embarrassed so much as she seemed… flustered in a very specific and familiar way. Glancing at the likely source, Fleur was utterly unrepentant. Ned watched the scene with his usual stoic mien, though he looked more constipated than noble at the moment. The Tyrells were bemused and Heather bore a teasing vixenish smirk.

She leaned over to whisper to me, "Heh, looks like there are two of them now~…"

"Magic save us," I nodded solemnly in return.

"I know it's your fault," Catelyn eventually continued, regaining her blunt, icy determination. "Your people brought heathen magic to this land. But that cannot be changed now. It has already affected my children. At first, I wished to rant. I wished to rave and rage. But I have come to accept that not all magic is as the Seven preach it.

"So all I ask now is that you take responsibility and make my children great. Make them legendary. Make them Kings among kings. I know they are capable. All of them have awakened some gift from their blood. Mine and Ned's. They simply need to be forged. Tempered. Honed. For that, I yield to your experience, Wizard…"

Her request lingered for a long moment, essentially sitting on the table. While tension mounted for the Stark children — and perhaps Ned, though he didn't show it — Catelyn never wavered. She met my gaze head-on and simply stared, not imploring me to answer one way or another. Still, her ambition for her children and determination was perfectly clear.

I raised a single eyebrow, "That's it?"

Unexpectedly and impressively, Catelyn didn't let an inch of shock show on her face, "That's it. I would see my children go down in history. I would see them remembered. All of my children. You are key to that, it seems."

When she said 'all', her eyes quickly darted to Jon and then back to me. She didn't seem overly warm to the boy-turning-man but she was determined to give him the same opportunities as her trueborn children. And with that, I think it was official. I liked this woman.

All of her children had awakened. And that must have changed her worldview. I expected Catelyn Stark wouldn't always have been this way. But the Catelyn I met now? She was willing to put aside prejudices against magic that must have been taught from birth for the sake of her children's future in this rapidly changing world. And she didn't even overly discriminate against her husband's bastard, something I would have expected from a married noblewoman of this world. Though the secret Luna spoke of must have had something to do with that…

If I had to guess, there was more to Jon Snow's parentage than Ned Stark claimed and he'd shared that with his 'son' and wife after Dumbledore called him on it a year ago. That interaction stood out in my memory. Not by much. But it did. I remembered Jon as a tragic young man with a weight on his shoulders. Now, he still had a weight upon him. But it was different. Borne more strongly upon a spine with more steel in it.

It certainly wasn't the weight of bastardry any longer. Truths had been laid bare in the Stark Household. What those truths were, I couldn't begin to know. Ned sharing the secret must have changed something drastically for Catelyn to even consider accepting Jon 'Snow'. I only saw the end result of it. Not the pain, betrayal, and resentment that came with a secret, especially one kept from a man's wife and son. But a year and some change later, Jon and Ned — likely Catelyn as well, though I hadn't met her before to tell — were stronger for it. In another world, the Starks might have been a House divided. Here and now, they were a pack united — determined to weather the changing world even more fiercely than Olenna and the Tyrells were.

"We can do that," I nodded slowly. "Hogwarts will hardly refuse to teach magic, especially to our friends and allies. At its core, it's still a school — a place of learning above all else — even if your children won't be the usual students. And your request actually plays quite well into mine."

"And what would that request be?" Ned asked.

"If I may?" Cedric interrupted for permission to speak. I nodded. "Cho and I were hoping to stay in Winterfell. That's why we came, to request to foster under your hospitality. While we stay and learn from you, we can also teach your children to harness, explore, and grow their magic."

The Stark children murmured to each other in excitement. Sansa in particular gasped and practically vibrated in her seat. I could only imagine that they were relatively starved for social interaction, especially outside of their family. Having two new faces in Winterfell — faces that would teach them magic, at that — would undoubtedly be exciting. Perhaps doubly so for Sansa. Nothing against her but she seemed a touch… vapid when it came to boys. And Cedric was nothing if not a pretty boy.

Catelyn glanced at her husband and an unspoken communication passed between them, "… An unorthodox fostering but an arrangement that is not without merit."

"Aye," Ned nodded. "I could agree to this. I might face some resentment from my bannermen though. The Boltons will subtly accuse me of hoarding a new power of the North to myself."

He finished with a scowl. Cedric and I exchanged glances but Daphne was the one to speak up, "We can help there as well."

"Cedric and Cho aren't the only ones in Hogwarts who are looking to foster," I elaborated. "I'm sure we can work something out that will satisfy the egos of your bannermen."

Ned chuckled, "Bluntly put. But not inaccurate. That should give me enough leeway with the Lords to accept your offer."

"Who do you think and where?" I asked, sharing counsel with the others.

"Neville should go to the Boltons," Luna said, uncharacteristically serious. "He'll… handle them."

"Susan and Hannah will go with him then," Heather pointed out.

"That's fine~!" Luna chimed, her usual cheer quickly coming back. "The more the merrier at the skin-flaying party~!"

"How encouraging," Daphne deadpanned.

"The Boltons have a… colorful history," Ned winced slightly. "But I can assure you that such vile acts are firmly in the past."

Heather smirked irreverently, "Odds on Susan finding out differently and then bringing down the whole castle around them with Neville and Hannah's help?"

"Heather, no," I sighed in exasperation. "… That's a sucker's bet."

IIIII

[AN: This is a slightly shorter chapter than usual but that's just how it is, unfortunately. The ending fell into an awkward spot where the next scenes I have planned are too long to comfortably fit here. So I decided to just cut it a bit short so the next chapter can be more in-depth/detailed. Next, the Winterfell visit continues with Stark shenanigans, magic, and visions of foreshadowing. Then after that, Sprout and Snape break bad Westeros-style…]