Harry looked at the rye seeds in his hand. They were elongated, thick in the middle and tapered at the ends. Their color had changed, every seed now carrying a dark bluish-brown hue.
Several more baskets filled with seeds were scattered throughout the room, the result of two months of work.
He had managed to create a seed that was incredibly resistant to the cold while maintaining excellent photosynthetic efficiency.
Once these seeds were planted on a large scale, food would cease to be a problem in the North.
Of course, it would be a gradual process, and he would not be able to accomplish it alone. He would have to distribute the seeds to other Houses so they could cultivate them as well.
Even so, the initiative would remain in his hands for at least several years.
Descending the stairs of the tower, Harry went looking for his mother. After asking a maid, he learned where she was.
Things had calmed down considerably for her.
The war was already over, and with the last shipments of supplies sent, all that remained was to wait for the post-war matters to be settled before the army returned home.
He found his mother sitting before the fireplace, gently rocking Bran in her arms.
"Mom," Harry said as he approached. The flames danced within the hearth, filling the room with soft crackling sounds.
"Harry," Catelyn said, smiling gently at him. Her gaze then settled on the small leather pouch he carried.
"You did it?" Catelyn asked with genuine disbelief, noticing the smug smile on his face. He usually wore that expression whenever he wanted to show off something.
On more than one occasion he had mentioned wanting to create special seeds, though she had immediately declared it impossible.
"It's done, look," Harry said, grinning as he handed her the pouch. He had worked for two months to achieve it.
Catelyn looked at the small pouch before rising to her feet and carefully placing Bran in his cradle.
Only then did she take the pouch.
"They look a little strange," Catelyn said, slipping a hand inside and pulling out a blue seed. She rubbed it between her fingers doubtfully.
Examining it from several angles, she frowned slightly. They looked a little unsettling.
"Of course. They're resistant to the cold and only need a few hours of sunlight. I used the potion to make the plants grow much faster, then selectively bred the ones that developed the best," Harry said quickly, a wide smile on his face.
"What do you want to do now?" Catelyn asked, absentmindedly rubbing the seed between her fingers, deciding to selectively ignore how he had changed from calling it a liquid to calling it a potion.
The corner of her mouth twitched slightly.
She did not even dare ask how he had done it.
"I'll have some workers prepare a plot of land and plant the seeds there. Though it's already spring, so their ability to withstand the cold won't really be proven," Harry said, rubbing the back of his head.
If he could make them sprout and grow in the middle of winter, the impact would be far greater.
"Very well. Go ahead and do it. Ask Vayon for help, he'll take care of everything," Catelyn said, placing the seed back into the pouch before returning it to Harry with a calm expression.
"Hm, I'll go organize everything," Harry said, kissing his mother's cheek before leaving the room.
Catelyn sighed as she watched her son's back disappear.
These surprises were beginning to wear her out. She only hoped her husband would return soon.
At the very least, she hoped he would also have to deal with these surprises. She wondered what kind of expression he would make.
Harry left the room and followed his mother's advice.
Finding Vayon, the castle steward, was not difficult.
After asking around, he found him reviewing the castle inventory alongside two men.
Harry looked curiously at the list in his hand, wondering what sort of things were written there. Before he could say anything, Vayon noticed him approaching.
"My young lord, do you need something?" the middle-aged man asked with a faint smile.
"I do, but you seem busy," Harry said, glancing around.
"It's nothing. I was already finishing up," Vayon said, handing the list to one of his assistants before turning his attention to Harry.
"I wanted to ask about the distribution of land outside the castle for planting," Harry said, getting straight to the point.
Vayon paused for a moment at his words. His hand stroked his beard thoughtfully before he nodded.
"Hm, come with me," Vayon said with a smile as he walked alongside Harry.
Together they passed through several corridors before leaving the keep and heading toward the western wall.
Once atop the battlements, Harry's view widened.
Long stretches of farmland spread out around Winterfell.
Dark, stubborn earth was being worked by hundreds of people. Small stone walls divided the fields. Harry was not entirely sure whether they served to keep out small animals or to break the wind.
Large pastures filled with cattle and horses stretched into the distance as well, their numbers far exceeding the cultivated fields.
And that was only the side of the castle he happened to be facing.
Winter Town could also be seen nearby. He could even make out people walking through its streets.
"As you can see, we're preparing for planting season. Spring has been fairly warm, so we're hoping for a long summer. After that usually comes a harsh winter," Vayon said, sounding somewhat concerned.
Winters could be truly merciless in the North.
"I want a small plot of land to plant something I made," Harry said, looking at Vayon.
"As you wish, my lord. I'm somewhat aware of your projects, but I hope this isn't a joke. The food we gather will be vital for surviving winter."
"The temperatures around here are warmer, so people often send their children and elders here. But if we don't have enough food, many of them won't survive the winter," Vayon said seriously.
"Hm, I know what I'm doing," Harry replied softly, his gaze wandering among the workers.
"Very well. Which plot would you like?" Vayon asked.
"Any of them. Ideally one close to the castle," Harry said as he watched people plowing the fields with the help of oxen.
"I'll send several baskets of rye seeds. Have them planted and watered normally," Harry said.
"I'll personally oversee it," Vayon replied with a nod and a silent sigh.
Harry descended from the wall feeling somewhat heavy-hearted.
People seemed to live much harder lives than he had imagined.
In the end, he still lived a sheltered life behind Winterfell's walls.
He could eat as much as he wanted and slept in a warm bed.
Thinking about the seeds he had worked so hard to create calmed him somewhat.
In a few months, everyone would see a little hope for the future.
Calling over the group of guards once more, Harry had them each carry a basket and deliver it to Vayon. He would take care of the rest.
Wanting to take a break, Harry decided to spend some time with his siblings.
Looking for them, he found Sansa with Jeyne and Alys Karstark. Seeing that, he slipped away before the three girls noticed him. His interactions with Alys tended to be brief or nonexistent, and he preferred to keep them that way.
Finding it strange that Arya was nowhere near Sansa, he asked a maid and learned that she had gone to the training yard.
Smiling, he went to find her.
She had turned out very differently from her older sister. Arya was lively, restless, truly a little wild wolf.
He found her leaning against a railing while watching Jon practice with a bow. The look in her eyes clearly said that she wanted to try it herself.
Smiling, Harry crouched down, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her cheek.
The little girl immediately kicked and squirmed in protest before freezing.
"Harry!" Arya exclaimed in surprise as she relaxed in his embrace.
"You're still too young to try it. When you're older, I'll teach you," Harry said with a laugh.
"Really?" Arya asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
"That's right. So you have to behave yourself, otherwise your brother will get scolded too much when the time comes," Harry said helplessly.
His mother believed women should do women's things. It was a normal view for the world they lived in.
But Harry could not entirely agree with it, especially if a girl wanted to learn things that were not considered ladylike.
"I'll behave," Arya said seriously.
"For now, you can only watch. Pay attention to the way he's standing and how he holds the bow," Harry whispered as he looked toward Jon.
Harry admired Jon.
The boy trained with a discipline uncommon for someone his age. Harry knew it stemmed from his desire for acceptance.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the small figure loose arrow after arrow.
It seemed he would have to do something about that.
....
Jon was already awake when the sun had barely risen above the horizon.
Standing before a mirror, he adjusted his clothes as best he could before giving himself a small nod of approval.
Taking his bow from the wall, he hurried toward the training yard for a quick practice session before breakfast.
He still had much to improve.
His father would be returning soon, and he wanted to show how much he had progressed.
Standing before the target, Jon drew the bowstring and released.
The arrow flew with force and struck the exact center.
A smile formed on his face as excitement shone in his eyes.
Pulling out another arrow, he carefully aimed before firing again.
The second arrow struck the first, sending it spinning through the air before it fell to the ground.
Even so, Jon was not discouraged.
His accuracy had improved greatly.
Arrow after arrow left his bow until his fingers began to ache.
Looking at the arrows buried in the target, he unconsciously found himself comparing his results to his brother's.
His hand tightened around the bow as a satisfied expression appeared on his face.
After all, Harry spent most of his time playing with his sisters, reading books, or doing strange things in the tower.
Lifting his gaze, he somehow found himself staring at the top floor of the tower.
"Hey, what are you looking at?" Harry asked, suddenly appearing behind him and touching his shoulder.
Jon nearly jumped out of his skin.
For a moment, he glared at his brother before forcing a smile.
"You scared me... did you come to train?" Jon asked with a sigh.
"No. Want to help me with something?" Harry said, smiling at him.
"Uh... sure," Jon muttered to himself.
"Then let's go," Harry said, pushing him lightly. It was not difficult to notice his reluctance.
"I've got a plot of land where I planted some seeds. We're going to water them with something special," Harry said with a chuckle.
Jon listened as Harry talked the entire way there, explaining how difficult the work had been and how much he hoped it would succeed.
For the most part, Jon could only nod or remain silent whenever Harry said something strange.
Harry led him through the castle gates, accompanied by a group of guards.
After walking for a while, they reached a strip of land.
It was the closest one to the wall and could easily be watched from the battlements above.
Several large vats filled with liquid were already waiting there, along with a number of workers.
"Alright, let's begin. Remember, only use a little. It has to last for all the seeds," Harry said to the group.
Still confused, Jon watched as the men picked up small watering cans and moved through the furrows, carefully watering the crops.
"Come on, what are you waiting for?" Harry said, patting Jon on the shoulder before grabbing a watering can himself and getting to work.
Jon approached and picked one up with effort before making his way down an empty row with somewhat unsteady steps.
If he was being honest, he would rather be training.
But refusing Harry was difficult.
Watching how easily Harry carried his watering can, that strange feeling returned to his chest.
Grinding his teeth, he tried to force more strength from his body, quickening his pace.
He wanted to catch up.
He wanted to surpass him.
Then a misstep caused him to stumble.
The watering can was too heavy.
He could not regain his balance in time and fell face-first into the dirt while all the water spilled out.
Feeling the sting on his face, Jon realized it was not just from the fall.
It was embarrassment.
He remembered Harry saying the liquid could not be wasted.
His eyes began to fill with tears when a hand suddenly pulled him back to his feet.
"Hey, are you alright?" Harry asked with a smile.
"Harry, I'm sorry. I spilled the water," Jon said, looking at him briefly before lowering his head.
"It's fine. Let's just go get another one. Don't fill it all the way this time so it'll be easier to carry," Harry said gently.
"But you said it couldn't be wasted," Jon replied.
"It's alright. It was an accident. We came out here to relax and do something different. You train every day, so just relax and water the plants," Harry said as he crouched down to pick up the watering can.
His gaze froze for a brief moment when he noticed a little blood on it.
"Here. Go take it easy," Harry said, handing the watering can back to him and smiling before returning to his own row, hiding one hand inside his coat.
Jon watched his brother's back for a moment before quickly rubbing his eyes and heading back to refill the watering can.
Watching Harry move ahead, he tightened his grip and hurried his pace.
....
That morning, the sky was clear, and the sun's rays shone directly over the courtyard.
Harry stood beside his mother, looking impatiently toward the gates in the outer wall.
His sisters were arguing and playing off to one side, while his mother stared into the distance with barely concealed anticipation.
Around them, dozens of guards and servants from the castle waited.
All of them were waiting for their lord.
That day, he would finally be returning from the war.
The march home had taken longer than the journey there. Victory feasts at every castle had delayed the return by several days.
Standing beside his mother in the center of the gathering, Harry noticed that although her expression remained calm, her shoulders were tense.
He reached out and gently took her hand.
Looking up, he met his mother's blue eyes.
She gave him a comforting smile, even though he was supposedly the one comforting her.
Returning the smile, Harry rested the side of his head against her arm.
Looking beyond the gates, he spotted a column of men approaching from Winter Town.
Before he could even make out his father, he felt the tracking spell he had placed on the ring.
A smile immediately curved his lips.
Then he saw him.
His father rode at the head of the army.
His armor was covered in dust, and dark stains of dried blood could be seen here and there. He sat tall in the saddle, wearing that familiar stony expression as his gaze swept across the courtyard.
Catelyn spotted him immediately.
Her shoulders seemed to relax all at once when she saw that he bore no visible injuries.
Then their eyes met.
For a brief moment, the usual severity vanished from his father's face, replaced by a rare smile beneath his beard.
He pressed his heels lightly against his horse's sides, urging it forward.
As soon as he was close enough, he dismounted in a smooth motion and walked toward them without hesitation.
Catelyn reached him first.
She paid no attention to the dust or blood staining his armor and simply wrapped her arms around him.
Harry smiled and joined the embrace a moment later.
Sansa and Arya immediately followed, clinging to their father with delighted laughter, while Bran watched from the arms of a maid.
The sight drew laughter and whistles from the returning soldiers.
Even some of the northern lords smiled at the sight of the ever-stoic Eddard Stark trapped inside such a family embrace.
Only Jon remained apart.
He watched the scene with hesitation.
Yet after glancing toward Catelyn, he ultimately stayed where he was.
The celebration soon moved inside the castle, where Catelyn had already prepared a feast for the assembled lords.
The feast was lively and lasted until late into the night.
Harry noticed that every lord he knew had returned safely.
Though he doubted the same could be said for the soldiers.
Looking around at the cheerful feast celebrating victory, he found himself wondering whether any of them cared about what it had cost.
Not in the mood to remain there, he left early.
After saying goodnight to his mother, he returned to his room and lay down while meditating through his Occlumency exercises.
Trying not to think about the families who might have lost a loved one... or the person who had been their only means of support.
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