When the woman woke up, her body was lying on the floor. Kreacher, now Kadeem, shook her gently: "Mistress, Mistress. It worked! Look, look! The Goddess has granted you her Blessing. "

Amalthea sat shivering and watched the world around her. They were once again in a forest but this was different from the one they left behind. Trees and more trees, and a distant sun in the sky.

"We must be in Westeros then. But how far from Winterfell?"

"I don't know, Mistress." Kreacher said as confused as she was.

Amalthea reached for her wand and launched an Four-Point Spell , the wand's wood turned slightly, and like a compass, pointed to the North.

"Well, the North is over there." Thea said out, "And if the North is that way, so is Winterfell."

"Maybe if we go over there, first." Suggested Kreacher, pointing to the right. "I seem to see a sign of a road, Mistress."

Amalthea followed the direction the old man was pointing and recognized what he was saying. "Well done Kadeem, yes, I see it too! Come on, it should be safer than staying in this forest."

They advanced through the trees with careful steps, observing their surroundings. Birds chirped through branches and leaves, and a rabbit hopped nearby.

Finally, on the road, Amalthea noticed their change in clothing. Kreacher, old, small, and wrinkled, had his feet in black boots. He wore matching pants, a warm green tunic, and a thick gray cloak over his shoulders.

Amalthea however, no longer had her comfortable jeans and white shirt from before, but rather a greyish-blue dress, extremely beautiful but extremely heavy. She wore very warm brown pants and boots hidden inside the skirts. Over her shoulders, a cloak of medium size and of something that looked like wolf fur, of a gray shade darker than the color of her dress, and around her neck she had small shiny jewels. Thea had Soteira attached to her waist, and the additional weight was good and workable.

Thea wouldn't lie, she liked dresses now which was strange because years ago she would never have dared to wear one. But Sirius had taught her everything about her family and her beautiful ancestors looking like queens in elegant dresses, and then Thea had begun to see the charm... Perhaps, the reason that the idea of getting all dressed up sounded nicer because, that was a way of feeling a closer connection to her magical family.

She imagined that here, in this medieval world, dresses were something she would wear often. But every now and then, she would wear comfortable pants and boots, and no one would dare her otherwise.

Thea was warm, but not warm enough. She cast a heating spell on herself and Kreacher, which he thanked, and returned the wand to its holster tied to her right arm. There it became invisible, hidden inside the holster and the long sleeve, as well as the Elder Wand on her left arm.

Opening her right hand, she saw the Wheel of Hecate drawn on the palm - where the cut used to be -, a crossroads of lines and more lines like a labyrinth of ink. The Goddess had finally blessed her and the mark was on her skin for everyone's eyes. The mark was beautiful, just like the one that she had already engraved on her left wrist. It made her feel good.

"Let's go then." She said to Kreacher, moving forward.

They walked for what seemed like a probable twenty minutes or maybe it was only half an hour, always following the dirt path when they saw an old wooden sign by the side of the road.

"Kingsroad." Amalthea read it. "Well, we already know where we are. And we know that Winterfell is that way, so if we follow this path, we might get there more quickly."

The man nodded understandingly and suddenly opened his eyes wide, muttered something under his breath, and grabbed something attached to his belt.

"Here, Mistress." Kreacher said, in a hurry. He handed her a little black bag. "It was lying by your side when you were unconscious."

Thea looked at it, scared. Only now, looking at the bag in her hand, noticed that it was missing. She didn't want to imagine herself without it, it was too valuable. Stop being distracted, Potter, there is no time for mistakes here , she thought angrily to herself.

"Oh, thank you, Kadeem." She tied it to her waist, in the same belt as the sword was, and continued walking. "Now remember, it is better if we don't stop for anything, as we don't know the region. Harlan said that the Starks are trustworthy and I believe in his words, but even so, we will have to see for ourselves. Besides that, we don't know anyone here and we don't know how they will act, here we are open and an easy target. Someone can try an ambush, so let's proceed with caution from now on. "

"I see, Mistress, you are absolutely right. Krea... I mean, Kadeem will do as you say."

"Then we should start walking."

And so they gave themselves up to the journey, following the dirt road and hoping to reach their destination. They walked for what seemed like hours and as Amalthea predicted, they met a few people in the meantime. Two men sitting on a cart carried by a small mule that breathed extremely tired, and another man on an old brown horse. Neither showed any bad intentions towards the two, but they didn't hide the suspicious looks on their faces.

Their feet ached from walking, and little by little the sun had gone down, bringing a colder climate with it, but both were protected by the fur cloaks and the heat spell. Apparition would be easier, Amalthea was aware ... but apparating in a place she had never seen or been before could be dangerous, and the last thing the woman needed was to have her body separated, and different body parts being thrown into different corners of this world. No, thank you very much. Walking is the only option. There should not be much more of walking.

And in fact, she was right. Not far away, perhaps a few hundred meters away, they saw the high stone walls. The orange and red light of the setting sun gave the huge castle a majestic aura. It was magnificent, with a set of impressive tall towers. It reminded her so much of Hogwarts - her real home -, although it was a lot different from the old magic castle.

They were quick to stride up to the elegant gate, flanked by walls over twenty meters long and two bastions carved into the stone. Two guards that looked straight and efficient, made a sudden sound when the outsiders approached.

"Stop! Who comes there?"

The woman advanced calmly while being watched by the two rigid men. "Good afternoon. My companion and I traveled for a long time and from a place miles and miles from here. Our bodies are absurdly tired and, if it weren't too much, we expected to find refuge within these huge walls."

The two guards exchanged a look, but other than that, they didn't react. Both continued their important task, guarding the huge gate, with hands resting on the pommel of swords. Amalthea was unmoved by her lack of answer, and continued: "Could you tell me who the current Lord of Winterfell is?"

The man on the left laughed incredulously, and in an extremely contemptuous way, while the one on the right had a confused expression on his face as if he could not believe the words he had just heard. "Don't you know the name of the man to whom you want to ask refuge? It doesn't seem like a very smart thing to do. But if you want to know, the lord of this castle is Lord Eddard Stark."

Amalthea made a mental note of it while saying, "So tell Lord Stark that I would like to have a word with him."

"Lord Stark has no time to receive anyone now if it is a room to stay the night that you want, try in Winter Town. Look, from here you can see where it is."

"Please inform Lord Stark that I would like to speak to him." Amalthea returned to repeat, while at her side, Kreacher grumbled, in a low voice just to her ears: "Filthy men". Thea flashed him a warning look.

"We have already told you that he is not giving audiences today. It will be getting dark soon, we will not disturb Lord Stark at this hour." The guard on the right said, gently.

"I'm sure he would like to see me." Amalthea commented, insisting again.

The guard on the left snarled with exaltation and approached the shorter woman. "And who are you for Lord Stark wanting to see? Just a woman accompanied by an old man. Don't waste our time anymore!"

Amalthea narrowed her green eyes like the death curse, that shone dangerously. Something dark showed on her face when she approached, until she was two feet away from the guard who treated her with such disrespect, and spoke in a voice as cold as ice: "You are an excellent guard, I am sure of it, and you do well your work. But it seems to me that you have misunderstood me, gentlemen, so I will make a point of explaining it again until you understand the meaning of each word spoken by me. This was not a request, but a demand. You will let me enter this fortress and you will tell your lord, Eddard Stark, that I am here to see him right away. Tell him it is an important matter and only for his ears."

The men blinked in shock, one time, two times, and several more. The contemptuous guard turned extremely red in the face, and Thea could almost see the steam coming out of his ears. He seemed to be reaching the point of wanting to drag her away.

"I am sure the Lord of Winterfell will be immensely upset if Lady Peverell is sent away, as nothing more than a commoner." Said the woman calmly, with a chuckle breaking out of her pretty lips.

These words did their job, and the result was satisfying to observe. The man on the right, the one who showed solidarity and responded earlier in a polite way, suddenly became paler, and the other narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Amalthea was able to recognize a glimmer of uncertainty in his black eyes and rat face.

"Oh, yes... I wonder what Lord Stark will say when he learns that Lady Peverell was treated so contemptuously. He will certainly be upset..." Kreacher searched the words wickedly, with a terrible gleam in his eyes. "And to know that she was treated with such indifference by his own guards. Oh, gentlemen, I would not like to be in your shoes at that moment." He ended.

Amalthea smirked at his words. Her gaze captured their Adam's apples rising and falling quickly when they swallowed, and they turned white as ghosts.

"Lady Peverell, you say?" Questioned the man on the right, with an uncertain smile between his thick beard.

"Yes, good sir. Lady Amalthea Peverell."

The two men exchanged a look, and he spoke again: "Then follow me, my Lady. I will call Lord Stark immediately to come and meet you. "

Both, Amalthea and Kadeem, smiled at each other when they passed the guard in a steady step and elegant posture. Disdainful and with an injured ego, he wasn't shy when he spit on the floor, and whispered with anger in his voice: "Yes, we will see what Lord Stark will have to say about liars trying to enter his house."

The young black-haired woman coldly ignored him and observed her surroundings, while the other guard warned that he would speak to his Lord and be back in an instant. Dozens of people walked distracted and busy with their daily tasks, and more guards patrolled and watched the grounds. There was a huge stable where she heard horses neighing and dozens of small patios and open spaces where Thea saw targets and training dolls. Overhead, several flags waved in the wind, with a gray dire wolf in the center, growling furiously on a white background. In the courtyard, hardly anyone recognized her, but those few who looked at her did it with curiosity.

"Be careful." Warned Thea to Kreacher who looked around him suspiciously. "We have already seen that not everyone will accept us with open arms..."

"My Lady ..." The guard appeared again, gasping. "Lord Stark agreed to meet you. Please follow me, follow me. He awaits you. "

"Of course, thank you..."

"Markus, my Lady."

"Thank you, Markus. Shall we?"

The guard, Markus, as Thea learned, guided them into the fortress and through the maze of corridors. The castle was beautiful, the corridors long and lit by the light from the candlesticks on the walls every few meters, and Thea could feel how warm the walls were even when she was away from them. She touched one curiously as she walked, letting her fingers slide over the bumps and rough edges of the granite.

Markus, who had seen her do it, commented: "The castle was built on natural hot springs. The water is channeled into the walls that way keeping the castle warm. Lord Stark's chambers are already ahead, you will find him there waiting for you, with Maester Luwin."

The end of the corridor separated at a bifurcation, they went to the right and found themselves in front of a massive door. Markus banged his fist on the wood, waited for an 'Come in' that came from inside, opened the door, and said: "Here are Lady Peverell and her companion, My Lord."

In the warm room due to the burning fireplace and candles in different corners, two men were standing. One was already of advanced age, small and almost bald, but the few hairs he had were gray and many were walking towards pure white. He wore a gray wool cloak with wide sleeves and a heavy chain around his neck with several links.

The other seated behind the wooden desk, piled with candles and papers, was long-faced and stern but had warm gray eyes. His dark brown hair ended at the shoulders, with a good part tied behind his head, and his beard although brown, now also had some gray in it. He wore dark clothes, and his expression was extremely serious. He looked at the guard and said, "Ah Markus, thank you for bringing me our guests. You can leave us."

"As you wish, my Lord." And with one last glance at the four occupants in that room, he went out and closed the door behind him.

The room then fell into a tense silence, where everyone waited, evaluating each other. The wind outside whistled and Thea could see that by the time they walked through the castle corridors, it became dark.

Finally, Eddard Stark spoke: "You wanted to see me, my Lady?"

"Yes, my Lord, thank you very much for having me in your beautiful home. My name is Lady Amalthea Peverell and this is Kadeem my... " What would she say? Her house-elf turned into a human by Hecate, the Goddess of Magic? "My advisor." She ended.

Lord Stark nodded, exchanging glances with the man dressed in gray, in a silent conversation. "Of course, my lady. How can I be useful?"

"My Lord..." began Amalthea carefully and measuring every word. The truth is that she had not practiced any backstory. "My advisor and I came before you seeking refuge from the cold night, in your house. Just one night. It is just until we can make plans after a good rest, and we'll leave early in the morning."

"And what are these plans, my Lady, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Traveling to Moat Cailin, my family's home."

The man cleared his throat as he drummed his fingers on the table in front of him.

"House Stark and House Peverell have been friends since hundreds of years ago, since the time of my ancestor, Torrhen Stark, the King-Who-Knelt. They remained friends throughout Harlan Peverell's life and he himself bought Moat Cailin from my family, for thousands of gold coins, and made residence there. But Moat Cailin is now nothing more than ruins, only three towers still remain intact." With this, the Lord of Winterfell cast a suspicious look at the youngest woman who appeared on his land mysteriously, with steel-gray eyes. "But that is common knowledge, and also that Harlan Peverell never had children. So how can you claim to be Lady Peverell?"

The information that Harlan had bought Moat Cailin from Torrhen Stark was not new to her. The man himself had told her with an amused smile on his face and, had also said: The wonders of magic in a world in which it shouldn't exist. I only needed one coin and when I looked, I already had thousands of gold, enough to buy a castle.

But that Moat Cailin was mere ruins at the moment ... that was new and indeed a piece of very valuable information. It doesn't matter , thought Amalthea. I have Kreacher and my magic. In a short time, I will rebuild the fortress, I will have a house and I can do what I promised to my ancestor.

Coming out of her thoughts, Thea decided to reply to the man who was watching her coldly: "Forgive me for the rudeness of my words, but does my Lord presume to know more about my ancestors than I do? Do you presume to know more about my family line than the person who carries the Peverell genes in her flesh, as well as the blood in her veins? It is not my intention to be harsh or malicious, Lord Stark, far from it, in fact. However, this is my duty and this is my family we discussed here. Harlan didn't have a wife or children, that is true, but he did have a brother... And it's from this brother, Hamish Peverell, that I descend from. Hamish was his heir. I'm the last Peverell alive and I want to claim my land."

"My Lady, your words are beautiful." The old man began, Maester Luwin, saying with his bald head gleaming in the flames. "But my Lady will certainly understand that, over the years, hundreds of impostors have come to try to claim a land that did not belong to them. Perhaps if my Lady had something to show us that what she says is indeed true... A document, something signed by Lord Peverell himself, maybe?"

"I have nothing like that, good Maester. However, I have in my possession our ancestral sword, Soteira ." She gently, removed, the heavy cloak that kept her warm, a little to the side, and let Soteira appear attached to her waist.

Their eyes widened, and she was ready to draw her sword when she thought she heard something outside the door. She narrowed her green eyes - Avada Kedavra eyes - and said: "It looks like you have spies at your door, my Lord."

Lord Stark, curious, looked in the direction that Amalthea pointed carefully, and was already a little frustrated as if he knew exactly what it was about. He got up, walked around the table, and opened the door abruptly. Three children came flying... falling... landing on top of each other on the stone floor.

"I should have known..." Lord Stark sighed, frowning. "Shouldn't you be finishing your tasks?"

"Embroidering is boring, and Sansa manages to be even more boring than the old Septa." Said the young girl, so like Lord Stark in appearance, with a stubborn expression on her long face.

"I was doing my tasks..." Commented the older boy with a charming smile. "Until you called for Maester Luwin who was teaching me, and I was left with nothing to do."

The Lord of Winterfell seemed to want to pray to the gods when he closed his eyes for a moment, opened them again and looked at the ceiling as if asking for help. Finally, he looked at the youngest boy who was still on the floor, extremely amused: "And you?"

In a sweet little voice, the little boy looked at the tall man with wide eyes, and replied: "I wanted to see you, father."

The girl with the stubborn posture, dark hair, and grey eyes, interjected: "And us," she gestured to herself and to the other brother who exclaimed ' Arya' in a snarl. "wanted to see who your mysterious guests were."

Amalthea tried to fight against a smile but she was unable to, her pink lips parted in a smile full of amusement.

"This is what we were discussing before you came playing spies and listening behind doors that you shouldn't have." Maester Luwin commented, also amused.

Lord Stark murmured resignedly, helped his youngest son to rise from where he was still lying on the floor and turned to Amalthea and Kreacher: "My Lady, these are my children. Arya, my second daughter, and Bran my second son. And this is Rickon, my youngest."

Rickon broke free from his father's clutches and went to cling to Thea's skirts while looking at her with eyes full of admiration.

"You are so beautiful." The boy sighed, dazzled.

Amalthea laughed with all her heart, completely delighted with the little boy with red hair and sweet little eyes. She bent down, standing at the same height as Rickon: "And you are the most gallant little man I have ever met."

Rickon blushed heavily and ran after Eddard, shyly peeking behind the legs of his father who looked at him with amusement.

"Where did you get that scar?" Asked the girl suddenly, eyes narrowed as she watched the lightning scar on Thea's forehead. The scar was no longer as red and irritated as it had been before, it was now a pale shade and Thea almost didn't even notice it was there. What made the scar ugly was that intrusive thing that was inside me, the monster's Horcrux.

"Arya Stark!" Exclaimed the Maester in a sharp, stern tone. "Apologized to your father's guest."

"But..." The girl started to protest until she was interrupted by high steps outside, that were quickly approaching. Thump, thump, thump ...

A figure burst into the room, gasping: "There you are! Forgive me, father, I found these little rascals when I saw that they were trying to get some mischief done. I turned my look away for a second, and when I looked back they were no longer where I left them."

The Lord of Winterfell cleared his throat, making the young man that was looking at the children amused, look at his father: "Robb, we have guests."

Robb followed his gaze and finally saw them: an old, small man, who was staring at him strangely... and a beautiful young woman, with extremely long hair black as the darkness of the night, with shiny and milky skin. She had full lips curved in a happy smile, nose as small as a button, and her eyes... they were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, and he would never be able to describe that color. Her curvaceous body was hidden in a long, grey-blue dress, and she had a wolf skin on her shoulders.

He felt the tips of his ears catch fire when he saw that the beautiful woman was also watching him curiously.

The young man named Robb, from what Amalthea had noticed, was tall and handsome, with a head full of copper curls and a thin beard with signs of being the same color as his hair. He had a strong jaw, full lips, and bright blue eyes. He was thin but muscular and in almost nothing resembled his father. Amalthea assumed he looked like his mother, even though she didn't know the woman, but Thea could see things on his face that belonged to Eddard like his eyebrows and nose. When he spoke, it was with a deep accent: "My lady..."

Lord Stark interrupted: "My Lady, this is Robb Stark, my eldest son, and heir. Robb, these are our guests..." He looked at the pommel of the sword that Thea carried. "Lady Peverell and her adviser, Kadeem."

The son looked at him with wide eyes and full of questions.

"Robb, please take your brothers to your mother and have two rooms arranged for our guests, as they will spend the night here. When it's done, come back and take them to their new quarters, if you don't mind. "

"Yes, father. Come on, mother must be looking for you... " He gestured with his hand towards the door and shut up Arya when she tried to protest. Before leaving, he looked at Amalthea once more, went around the door, and disappeared.

The others were silent again before Maester Luwin cleared his throat: "My lady, show us the sword, please."

Amalthea grabbed the half-moon pommel with her right hand, and in a precise movement drew her sword.

They watched it shine red in the light of the flames, its blade sharp and beautiful.

"Can I?" Eddard Stark questioned.

"Of course." Thea handed Soteira over to the stern man and watched calmly as Lord and Maester inspected the sword. She was flanked by Kreacher, who until then had not uttered a single word.

"Is it the real one?" She heard Eddard ask the man in grey with the chains around his neck.

"It is exactly like the drawings and documents, my Lord. The half-moon, the silver, and the blade... Valyrian steel, and look, it has the name... "

Lord Stark swung the sword, testing it. He frowned and tried again: "Feels wrong... feels strange."

Amalthea's amused chuckle had escaped, resounding in the air, and the two men lifted their heads to see her with her right hand in front of her lips trying to contain the smile. "It's normal for Soteira to feel strange in your hands, my Lord. It's my family sword and as such, it can only be wielded by a Peverell."

Maester Luwin nodded to Eddard, and Eddard returned the sword to the young woman who swung it in an elegant and right gesture. "You are who you say."

"Yes, my Lord, in fact I am."

"I apologize immensely for our distrust, but as we said before, not only a few have tried to claim your name and land in the past."

Luwin sighed: "Oh, my Lady. Where has your family been all this time? Where were you?"

"I will tell you everything calmly. But now I just have to say this: I intend to see my ancestral home, Moat Cailin, rebuilt. I will have new flags and a new motto. The Peverell House is back, my Lord, and it was about time."