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Harry Potter: Returns Back From Game of Thrones (ASOIAF) - 2
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 11:43:14 +0000 UTCChapter 2: Return
It was nearly midnight when a dull rumble of thunder finally drowned out Dudley's snoring.
In the end, Thunder emerged victorious.
In this environment, Harry's movement naturally wouldn't draw the attention of the Dursley family.
Harry frowned slightly. After so many years apart, a dream spanning years, many things had become unclear in his memory. He'd thought his childhood recollections were exaggerated, but it turned out... Dudley's snoring really was this tremendous!
Even in the army, few could produce such a racket. And Dudley was still just a child.
Dudley's arm currently dangled over the edge of the sofa, his chubby wrist sporting a watch.
These modern devices were something Harry had been exposed to since childhood. Even after years in another world without seeing them, he had little trouble remembering how to use them upon renewed contact.
Come to think of it, if he'd finished secondary school before crossing over, perhaps he could've "invented" some useful weapons or convenient devices and household items in the other world...
For warfare, strength was sufficient. Harry needed no external tools.
His muscles were indestructible, impervious to blades and arrows, and immune to injury. Standing on solid ground, his strength was inexhaustible—he alone could slaughter an army of a hundred thousand.
With brute force alone, he could strangle giants. Picking up boulders, he could crush dragons.
White Walkers were troublesome with their magic, but after defeating the Night King, the great King of Strength was certain that killing the Night King didn't require Lightbringer—just a dragonglass dagger would suffice... no, just a dragonglass toothpick would be enough.
But setting aside warfare, many modern inventions improved quality of life. When he first crossed over, Harry truly couldn't adapt to life without toilet paper—things only improved after he had money and could afford wool.
Finding some toilet paper nearby and stuffing it in his pocket, Harry rubbed it with his fingertips while reminiscing. He imagined the sensation of using it compared to wool and fine cloth, then looked at Dudley's watch.
The luminescent dial told Harry that in ten minutes, it would be midnight.
He remembered clearly that when he first crossed over, he was also just shy of turning eleven, meaning there really was no time gap—he'd returned to the starting point...
Crossing two worlds with time unchanged was truly marvellous. Harry couldn't understand it at all.
Not understanding, he stopped thinking about it.
His gaze shifted from the watch to Dudley's fat face. Long time no see, cousin!
Seven hells, Harry felt angry just seeing this person, remembering many long-buried British memories.
So before doing anything else, he aimed at Dudley's damned fat arse and delivered a fierce kick—
Naturally controlling his force so as not to kick the shit out of little Dudley.
Not because of disgust—he was used to worse in King's Landing—but because Harry, though remembering this family treated him poorly and never considering them good relatives, had spent so many years in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire seeing far worse people.
So his own childhood grievances seemed insignificant now; hence, he didn't use full force.
Considering he'd lived in Vernon's house for so many years and eaten their food for a decade, if this family was truly being hunted by some great lord and hiding on this island for their lives, he should still save them, considering it even.
"BANG—"
After being kicked, Dudley's head lurched forward—truly like a damned fat pig.
The decrepit sofa couldn't bear the burden and collapsed directly. Dudley hit something, didn't even manage a scream, and passed out immediately, sleeping very peacefully.
Harry hadn't expected the boy to be so fragile. It seemed he'd miscalculated and used slightly too much force.
Well, though he could sense Dudley's strength was only one or two points, childhood impressions of Dudley's size ran deep, inevitably leading Harry to overestimate him.
This was actually fine now. Previously, when Harry had 20 Strength with other attributes at only one or two points, his control was much worse. On the battlefield he was extremely bloody and cruel, leaving hellish carnage wherever he went, viewed by the world as both god and demon.
If the Harry of that time had acted, Dudley would now be nothing but Dudley sauce.
The current Harry, at least when he didn't intend to kill, could instinctively sense his opponent's level through physical intuition, and generally wouldn't kill them.
Hearing Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia in the bedroom apparently awakening due to the sofa's commotion, Harry abandoned trying to wake Dudley and simply kicked down the bedroom door, seeing those two people he'd disliked and feared as a child.
"Hello! I've got some questions for you. Answer honestly, or I can't save you."
Harry needed to understand exactly who was hunting them, how many pursuers would come, what those previously confiscated letters were about, and who the enemy behind it all was.
In this world, he'd watched some television as a child, following Dudley, but his understanding was limited.
After years in another world, having seen even White Walkers—which locals considered mere myth and legend—he could no longer distinguish between stories and reality.
If he remembered correctly, in this world, chattering machine guns definitely existed. Some kids at school had bragged about knowing how to shoot.
Such weapons, Harry was confident he could handle. His strength was sufficient—human domain limits, ice and fire tempering, impervious to blades and guns. Common steel and iron could never harm him!
Rocket launchers and tanks should also be real—he'd seen actual examples in museums.
Such things would make Harry break a sweat to deal with, but he could still overturn them. In a normal state he remained human, but when serious, his strength was limitless, capable of punching away war chariots with one blow.
However, having just crossed back, his condition was poor—he might need to find ways to recover to his peak state.
If he encountered such opposition head-on tonight, he might suffer minor injuries.
If Vernon's enemies came with tanks or even fighter jets and battleships, he should avoid their edge for now... Though that seemed unlikely. Most probably just people with guns.
Those fat little boys that exploded in Japan should also be real, right?
According to television explanations, with his 20 points of Strength... he probably couldn't withstand such weapons either.
If enemies used such weapons to annihilate the Vernon family, he could abandon them and flee. Later he could consider avenging Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.
Speaking of which, this world also seemed to have monsters that could absorb nuclear bombs and giants that defeated monsters... Were such things real?
Harry maintained some scepticism, but after crossing over he'd also seen dragons, White Walkers, and Lightbringer, all previously considered legends...
Before crossing, Harry had experienced various anomalies: being chased at school and flying up, having his hair grow back overnight after Aunt Petunia cut it short, understanding snake speech, making glass disappear to release snakes...
As a child, Aunt Petunia always said these had scientific explanations and were perfectly normal—don't think about such improper things. Her tone exactly matched certain television experts.
Others without magic might believe it, but Harry had experienced those things and could only believe it because he was just a child, easily fooled by his aunt.
The current Harry, though his Intelligence had remained at 1 point unchanged, was now an adult.
Looking back, not just Aunt Petunia—in Britain, whenever obviously abnormal events occurred, like half a street exploding from nowhere, the government always covered it up with various explanations, claiming gas explosions.
The returning adult Harry immediately discovered with his profound wisdom that everyone was concealing certain facts!
This world definitely had magic too—his own magical power was clear proof!
Uncle Vernon seemed constantly vigilant about certain people. Even while sleeping, he maintained alertness, clutching a long paper box.
Seeing the door broken open, he fumbled to unwrap the box but couldn't manage it immediately, sweating from anxiety.
Recognising the "intruder" was Harry rather than the imagined freaks, he relaxed.
The door must've been too old, collapsing after a child pushed hard—he thought he'd found the reason.
Then he appeared furious, feeling offended.
"You little freak! What tricks are you playing now!"
Standing up, he walked angrily toward Harry, wanting to pin him down first.
Then Vernon saw Dudley lying face-down on the collapsed sofa, apparently unconscious. Another accident from shoddy quality, but someone had to take the blame, so his anger intensified as he said to Harry: "You did this?"
Without waiting for Harry's reply, his hand became a fist swinging forward, accompanied by crude language.
"Bloody fat bastard," Harry cursed back.
Actually, cursing relatives was disadvantageous since you easily cursed yourself too.
Harry had no such concerns in the other world since he'd had no relatives there whatsoever—a cursing advantage.
He'd grown up in the North, mixing with the Night's Watch on the Wall whose "quality" was touching, without noble status. Expecting high refinement from such an environment was unrealistic.
Harry had clear self-awareness about this. Compared to his pre-crossing weakness of less than one point, his strength had increased tremendously.
But morally, compared to his pre-crossing kindness—internally complaining yet striving to help others—he'd greatly deteriorated.
It was just that in the world of A Song of Ice and Fire, someone who'd killed countless enemies on battlefields seemed relatively normal. Placed among kings, especially compared to King Joffrey, he appeared wise, mighty, and extraordinary.
Before gaining strength and prominence, Harry had also learnt various skills from thieves and illegal merchants.
The Wall had many talents, one could say.
Without elementary education making him obviously different from ordinary children and thus valuable, he might not have survived to adulthood.
However, after becoming king, Harry rarely cursed—of course, by then no one dared curse him to his face, and he always had people reminding him about protocol, not to constantly curse, at least not publicly.
Now, returned to childhood, he had no such restraints, and facing this family truly ignited his fury.
The flame scar on his left hand and black ice on his right sent impulses.
One side was Lightbringer, fanatically wanting him to kill all three generations of blood relatives, destroying his entire family as sacrifice to R'hllor.
Just as the legendary hero Azor Ahai sacrificed his wife to forge the first heroic red sword.
The other expressed vague, cold will, seemingly wanting Harry to kill people and then keep their corpses as wights.
Souls of the Great Other infused into corpses bearing concepts like the hero's childhood, family, misfortune, and kinslaying would be more effective, certainly creating the strongest wight guards.
Momentarily, Harry unconsciously emanated cold killing intent and the aura of having slaughtered tens of thousands on battlefields, immediately filling the air with the scent of rust.
For ordinary mortal heroes, bloodthirst might just be rhetoric and exaggeration.
But for "King of Strength" Harry, whose physical power was completely abnormal, evolved to monstrous levels, possessing certain values in Stamina, Magic, and Divine Power, essentially evolving toward a demigod hero, bloodthirst and killing aura were absolutely real descriptions.
R'hllor's burning bloodlust and the Great Other's cold death energy entangled, struggled, and mixed, all within Harry alone.
Only the kingly power from above transmitted dignity, allowing Harry to maintain restraint through his own will, not directly performing such mad acts... probably residual influence from just suppressing the two gods' divine power.
Naturally, when Harry emanated such an astonishing ominous aura, Vernon, who was about to swing his fist, calmed down.
Brave Vernon was directly facing unspeakable terror, his mortal will tested.
He dared not move, wanting to say something but too frightened to speak.
His legs trembled, and unknowingly, suspicious wetness appeared between Vernon's legs.
At this moment, what he wanted to say certainly wasn't abuse—he wanted reconciliation.
He felt he was going to die. Maybe... no, definitely going to die.
Why was this happening?
This boy was clearly just a ten-year-old child, clearly couldn't do anything.
Why did it feel like facing an ultimate killing king from battlefields, or death itself?
If someone told Vernon now that this child appeared to be an ordinary student on the surface but secretly teleported to war zones daily, personally killing hundreds of warriors with cold weapons every day, Vernon would choose to believe it.
Well, Vernon's feeling wasn't entirely wrong. Harry had killed many people, and having just added Divine Power, he was very much like death. Vernon would indeed face death's judgement someday, but not today.
After adding Divine Power, Harry could control light and darkness. Rather than punching the offensive Vernon into blood paste, he merely broke his right hand.
"AHHHHHHH!"
Uncle Vernon was clearly no tough guy who could break bones without changing expression, clutching his arm and screaming madly.
Hearing his father's screams, the peacefully sleeping Dudley stirred slightly at the loud noise, frowning on the sofa but still not waking.
Harry first walked to Vernon's side. He was still screaming. Harry opened the paper box he'd been clutching—inside was a rifle.
Harry thought, 'Armed, as expected. They're most likely being hunted... Knowing in advance not to call police, enemies are great lords or very powerful people in this world... called capitalists?'
He remembered this world had good security compared to the other world... Enemies might have great influence—the gold cloaks, no, British police can't handle them. Maybe they really could use tanks, even nuclear bombs?
Before crossing, Harry was just a ten-year-old primary student who hadn't experienced the internet information explosion, and he noticed this world's adults and society seemed to be collectively concealing much information.
Including concealing magic and extraordinary abilities.
The entire modern world was shrouded in mist to him. His 1 point Intelligence, though he believed sufficient, truly couldn't distinguish this world's specific situation and operating laws.
Better ask directly.
The only one still conscious who could provide intelligence was Aunt Petunia.
She was terrified, currently unable to say anything.
But Harry had ways to make her speak.
Harry walked to Dudley's side, preparing to deliver another moving pre-battle speech that would surely make his aunt surrender at his feet.
"Aunt, you wouldn't want anything to happen to your husband and son, would you?"
"I'll agree to anything, please... don't, don't..."
Seeing Harry approach Dudley while making threats, Petunia covered her mouth to muffle her sobs, but tears flowed uncontrollably.
A demon—this child had become a demon!
If only they'd treated this child better earlier. They were wrong; they shouldn't have...
"??"
Why say such things? Harry had just started, expressing that everyone was in danger now and it was best to honestly reveal intelligence.
He was still preparing to persuade through emotion and reason.
After all, they were being hunted. He hadn't made any enemies, and if they were his enemies, Uncle Vernon would've fled long ago rather than saving Harry. Most likely Vernon's own enemies.
If the opposition wanted to exterminate the entire Dursley family, his aunt's husband and son were the first and second targets.
Unexpectedly, before he could speak, this happened. I just defeated the Night King and gained 5 points of world-shocking Charisma! Unused!
Probably no king in history had so many buffs—special status as an otherworlder, naturally possessing 2 Charisma points like magic, then divine selection, Protector of the Realm, saviour, such vast territories, such powerful military achievements, so many accomplishments and honorary titles...
Maybe his aunt didn't understand the situation, or perhaps Charisma was already working. Anyway, asking now should yield honest answers.
Comments
Mewtwo
Outside force?
CosmicUniverse
outside forces affecting his mind. Will he be able to resolve that or is that just part of him now? if its a part of him for good id rather not keep reading. not a fan of that kinda character growth.
