EPILOGUE
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T H E  O T H E R S

THE SECOND TASK HAD COMMENCED. People were waiting impatiently for the Champions presentation. Viktor, Fleur and Cedric stood uneasy on the wooden platform, as Dumbledore and other adults panicked about the 4th Champion's disappearance.

"We mustn't continue without her, Albus. The consequences will be deadly," McGonagall shook her head, worried.

"The girl will die in the journey as she would die in the tournament," commented Snape. "We should proceed."

Albus nodded nervous when the other three Champions shrugged, not knowing where she was.

"Silence, please!" Dumbledore raised his voice, causing ripples on the lake's water.

The students settled on their seats, confused and with an insatiable hunger for entertainment.

"The Triwizard Tournament will be cancelled," he announced, clapping his hand.

The professors gasped, the students started muttering questions that raised a single voice for questioning.

"Albus. This is the wrong decision!" Minerva scolded, afraid.

"We cannot proceed with the Tournament without our 4th contestant," the headmaster echoed.

Madame Maxime, Igor, Moody... They shook their heads in disbelief as the press wouldn't stop questioning Dumbledore.

"What measures should we take, professor?" They asked, as flashing lights blinded them.

"The Ministry will help bring her back to safety," Rita Skeeter informed, as her notepad took notes.

"Albus," hissed Minerva. "We cannot let the Ministry interfere with this!"

"Calm down, Minerva," he whispered. "They'll never find her. Our only hope is for her to come back."

The clouds matched Draco Malfoy's grey eyes. He stiffly sat on his seat, watching the chaotic scene. His stare landed on Potter, who glared at him with vehement loathing. His thin lips twisted into a vile smirk, content and defying Potter even further.

"Students of Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons," Dumbledore said gravely. "Winter is coming."

Whispers raised once again as Dumbledore's words were open for their own interpretation. The meaning was straightforward: harsh words with a harsh meaning.

They didn't know what was coming for them, and it was coming soon.

Albus looked at the sky as he closed his eyes. He felt a single snowflake land on his cheek.

As one fell, others followed.

•

They've been flying day and night, going where the Dragon pleased. It made her feel free; free from her past and eager to meet the future. Letting a smile paint her face, she wooed excited.

Drogon seemed to take her in a different world she'd never been before. He seemed to defy the barriers of time and dimensions, as his wings flapped and took her to somewhere magical. Her smile dissipated into a frown. The temperature dropped by every mile they traveled.

"Where are you taking me, Blood of my Blood?" She asked, goosebumps adorning her bare arms.

Drogon screeched loudly. That seemed the only source of sound that could be heard apart from her voice and the wind that started to blow violently. Snowflake by snowflake, they gently kissed her face and melted, leaving a wet trail.

(Y/n) held onto Drogon tightly, hoping he could protect her. She was on foreign land and didn't know what to expect.

Drogon decreased the speed of his batting wings. He started landing, the wind blowing fiercely against them. (Y/n) could see a castle adorned by snow from afar. The dragon landed on the ground and she stumbled to her feet. Her eyes widened in horror to see her feet sink in a thick layer of snow.

"Drogon where are we?" She asked, frightened, memories of her dreams coming back to her. "Is this the right place? Are our brothers here?"

Drogon refused to answer. Growling, he showed his wings again. Horrified, the girl watched as the Dragon started to take off without her.

"Come back! Drogon!" She pleaded.

(Y/n) started panicking. She hugged the egg tightly, trying to provide it some source of warmth. Drogon disappeared into the sky and the only thing she could see was a black dot in the white vastness.

(Y/n) was afraid and cold. She kept walking forward, listening to the sound of her feet sinking into the snow. The entrance of the castle seemed to be getting closer and closer. Maybe there was someone who could help her inside.

After a long walk, she finally reached the double doors. Pushing them open reminded her to her first time entering the Great Hall unexpectedly, making a small smile appear on her face.

"Hello?" She asked, stepping in and closing the doors after her. The echo of her voice was the only reply.

She froze, recognising the place. She had been there before, recalling her visions from the House of the Undying. It was vividly similar, her eyes widened when she saw the throne in front of her. She wished Snape was there so she could prove him wrong; there it sat, covered by a thin layer of snow that invited her to sit on it.

Walking the long distance between her and the Throne, the girl started thinking about her ancestors that sat on it; she couldn't help but think about her mother. 'Finish what he started for you,' said the Sorting Hat. She was; a few steps away and she'd claim what her mother and many lives had died for.

(Y/n) Targaryen observed the Iron Throne. It was forged of the swords of deceased soldiers. 'A King should never sit easy,' the words of Aerys Targaryen resonated within the depths of her mind.

Climbing the few steps, the last Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne.

Her hands gripped the iced handles, careful not to rip her skin by the twisted blades. She stared forward, facing the double doors of the Red Keep. She was in Kings Landing; Drogon had managed to take her there, but how? The girl kept looking forward, with and empty feeling inside her as she waited for anyone to come.

'What good is to rule if you have nothing to rule upon?' She thought, as the thin snowflakes settled on her silver hair.

Where was everyone?

Why did Drogon bring her there?

She sat there, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, the slow motion of doors opening brought her gaze forward again.

(Y/n) sat straight, ready. Her neutral face slowly turned into a face of terror as she watched how one by one, the white dead creatures entered the Red Keep riding their dead horses.

They stared at her. The invisible barrier made by distance seemed to slowly break as they got closer.

(Y/n) was dreaded to the bone. Those creatures... She's seen them on her dreams aswell... And in the House of the Undying; she recognised those blue eyes and white flesh too well.

They were inching closer, their horses on a slow gallop, covering her trail of footprints with theirs.

The white creatures stopped in front of her.

Winter had come.