Lina remembered her daughter to be a spry little girl. She was always running around the streets of Wintertown obsessed with flowers. Her daughter Mena was the light of her life. Her husband was a drunkard who brought little earnings to their family and thus she raised her daughter solely on her earnings from working in the kitchens of Winterfell.
Working for the Starks was not a bad thing all things considered. She earned a steady sum of silver every month because of her position. And thatks to her earnings, her daughter had known only full bellies all her life. She was even allowed to bring her daughter inside the safety of Winterfell thanks to Lord Stark's kindnesses. For Mina who lost her father to the Rebellion and mother to a harsh winter, life was not so bad. Now that Lord Stark had marched the Northern army south once more, her husband marched with the army and that left Lina and her daughter all alone.
While her husband Ben was a hopeless drunk there were times Lina would wish his presence. This was one of those times cause her daughter has fallen ill. It was not just her daughter though. A whole lot of other people in Wintertown has also fallen ill and the numbers continued to steadily rise day by day.
All of this started with the arrival of foreign merchants into their lands. Supposedly, these strange looking foreigners were Braavosi merchants travelling from White Harbour with Lord Manderly. Foreigners rarely visited Winterfell and it'd seem this time these strange Essosi have brought death and disease with them. The Maester promised her dear Mina will recover but she was not so sure. This was why she was carefully sneaking through the corridors leading to the only person whom she felt could save her daughter's life.
Standing before the black painted oak doors Lina took a deep breath before knocking twice. The door swung open after a moment and she was immediately on her knees before Lord Stark's blessed son. She aired her grievances and wetted the boots of the little lord with her tears. It was a miracle that the guards never noticed what was happening but she begged his help all the same.
If the blessed Stark could not not help her she feared her dear Mina would never open her eyes. If that happens there was no reason for her to remain amongst the living. So, she earnestly begged the Stark who was blessed by the Old Gods to save her daughter.
XXXXXXXX
The Spring Sickness many called it. Harry would have just called it the flu mostly because there was no spring in the North. At least, it was not spring season when the sickness began to spread among the smallfolk of Wintertown. It was still snowing outside so he was baffled why anyone would coin the term Spring Sickness.
Strange names aside, it was undeniable that people were falling sick. Thankfully, the mortality rate seems to be keeping a low bar for the time being. The elderly were the most affected as Wintertown was for the moment mostly inhabited by old men, women and children. Many of the able-bodied men were away fighting the war. That doesn't mean there were younger victims falling prey to the Spring Sickness. The daughter of one of Winterfell's cooks falling ill is an example.
Now, according to Maester Luwin, the Spring Sickness had once wreaked havoc in Westeros during the reign of Daeron II. The Great Spring Sickness, the Maesters called it. Mostly it was a plague that struck almost all the major cities of Westeros. The worst affected was the capital city itself, King's Landing, where the Targaryen Kings reigned. Despite strenuous efforts from the learned men of the Citadel, no cure was discovered to tackle the plague.
The only good news is the Spring Sickness gripping Wintertown was far less dangerous than the Great Spring Sickness of 209 AC. While the sickness had quickly spread amongst the Smallfolk it was not dangerous enough to kill people in one day. Although, there were some cases of quick deaths Maester Luwin was of the opinion those people were far from healthy, to begin with.
Harry suspected Maester Luwin was keeping the veracity of details surrounding the sickness and its danger from his mother. After all, she was expecting to deliver his sibling any day now. The last thing the Maester or anyone would want was to trouble the Lady of Winterfell with ill news.
And this was also a reason for Harry to find a sure cure that can eradicate the infectious disease from spreading. He considered Lily Potter to be his birth mother and yet he felt more emotionally attached to Catelyn Stark. Perhaps it was because Lily Potter has always been an idea for him. He never experienced or knew the person that was Lily Potter. He only knew her from accounts of others and hence never experienced the relationship that ought to have blossomed between a son and mother. But now, things were different.
His birth mother was heavily pregnant and she is surrounded by the threat of a dangerous disease. It could either kill his mother or the babe she was carrying in her belly. Not to mention, his other three siblings were also in danger. And the sad thing was he knew no sure way to eradicate this disease. Harry was no professional healer and his meagre potion skills were of no use because of a lack of specific ingredients. It's not as if the North was teeming with magical plants and magical creatures.
All of a sudden his eyes widened at the thought of magical creatures.
Harry rushed out of his room towards the gift room with all the speed his small legs could churn out. The gift room was an old chamber where all the gifts the Lords of Winterfell and Winter Kings of old received were safely stored. Chandeliers, purple-dyed drapes, ruby-encrusted weaponry and stuffed heads of animals adorned the chamber. Not to mention dusty old chests possibly holding many more expensive and exotic items. The guards stationed outside the chamber were reluctant to let him pass but a simple confundo did the trick and he was inside.
"Accio Unicorn horn."
The white coloured horn that was gifted to his father by a Skagosi flew into his waiting hand. It didn't have the silvery shine that he was familiar with but the horn belonged to a Unicorn nonetheless. Harry placed the Elder Wand on the Unicorn horn and closed his eyes. A small stream of magic trickled down from his wand into the horn while he waited patiently. Two minutes passed before he felt a dull echo from within the horn. The echo proved the horn was magical in nature and it could hold magic if channelled into it properly.
Harry was not so surprised by the fact that the horn was drained of almost all residual magic. He was more than sure the Weirwood trees were sucking magic dry from anything that is living for some odd reason. He had an idea why that was happening but he thought he'd confirm his suspicions with Spring. But then, the Spring sickness blindsided him and the castle was in lockdown for days under the orders of Maester Luwin. The old master only deemed the castle safe once every nook and cranny of Winterfell was smoked using some medicinal herb. But even now, some preventive measures were in place.
All inhabitants of the castle were only allowed to drink boiled water. The floors, cloths and other utensils were daily washed with boiled water and everyone was required to wash their hands from time to time. The restrictions around his mother's chambers were far more strenuous.
However, now that he was holding a Unicorn horn Harry's mind swam with ideas. But first, he needed more information. Tucking the Unicorn horn safely under his arm Harry stepped out of the chamber ready to seek out Maester Luwin.
XXXXXXXX
"I'm so sorry Maester. If only I had known those merchants were carrying this sickness I'd have had them booted out of the North."
Luwin fought the urge to rub his forehead and pondered a way to get rid of the overly apologetic Lord of White Harbour from his chambers. The man has been apologizing for days and still, Lord Manderly was not satisfied with his string of apologies. In the first few days of the outbreak, it was understandable as Lord Manderly was in a precarious position.
The Lord of White Harbour has unwittingly put the heavily pregnant wife and children of his liege lord at risk by bringing sick Braavosi merchants to Winterfell. The merchants were wooed by the promise of Valyrian Steel and they were willing to buy it at an exorbitant price. If everything had gone as planned Luwin imagined the Starks would have been some million gold richer. Instead, the whole castle was now being scrubbed floor to floor and the town below remained under the grip of the Spring sickness.
"I couldn't easily say no to those merchants you know. They were representing some of the wealthiest families in Braavos. White Harbour can ill afford to alienate the Oligarchs of Braavos." said Wyman Manderly, his pale blue eyes shining earnestly as if to convey his precarious position.
"I understand, Lord Wyman. Nobody is blaming you." said Luwin for the umpteenth time.
"That's good to know. How is Lady Catelyn?" asked Lord Wyman.
"Lady Stark is in good health, my lord. She has been isolated to a wing of the castle where she will be kept away from any chance of infection." Luwin said eyeing the portly Northman.
"Oh, that's good to know. Mayhaps, you would like the assistance of my Maester. It would be no trouble at all to have Maester Liren give his aid in these troubling times." Lord Wyman offered earnestly.
"My Lord there is a small scale spread of this sickness in White Harbour as well. It'd not be wise for Maester Liren to abandon his post." Luwin pointed out patiently.
"Of course, you are right Maester Luwin. I forgot but if there is anything you need… anything at all. Please don't hesitate to ask."
Luwin smiled and nodded. He understood the Lord of White Harbour was going out of his way to ensure nothing bad happens but Luwin had everything under control. The moment he treated the Braavosi merchants who fell ill he had the whole castle in lockdown. The symptoms exhibited by those Braavosi were remarkably similar to the symptoms reported during the Great Spring Sickness. Blistering skin, nausea, vomiting and red eyes were some of the well-known symptoms. The only consolation was that those who fell ill didn't die within a day. Some had managed to even partially recover like the Braavosi merchants under his care.
The Great Spring Sickness was far more dangerous than this one and he thanked the gods Old and New for this small mercy. There is no known cure known to him or the Citadel for this sickness. The only thing he could do is to prevent the spread of the sickness and thereby eradicate it. Healthy food and water should maintain the body's health condition and the only form of medicine he knew to combat this disease involved using the lemon leaves.
Archmaester Oarsman was the one to find medicinal uses for Lemon leaves during the Great Spring Sickness. Lemon leaves, either fresh or dried, are dipped in hot water inside a closed vessel for ten minutes. Once the leaves are soaked well in the hot water the medicine will be ready to drink. The medicine thus produced should be taken three times a day and it was shown to increase the chances of survival among people.
Another valid way of treating this disease is to use lemon juice but lemons are far more expensive and hard to obtain in large quantities. So, he was limited in his abilities to chase the disease away from Wintertown. This put him in a uniquely disturbing position. The longer this sickness lingers in Wintertown the greater are the odds for the sickness to spread into the castle.
His musings were cut short when Harrion decided to barge into his chamber surprising not just him but Lord Wyman as well. And as usual, Harrion held another unimaginable claim to share.
"Maester Luwin! I can cure the Spring sickness."
'Of course, you can Harrion. Why would it be any other away?' Luwin thought, palming his face at the thought of the strange trajectory his life has been taking with each passing day.
XXXXXX
Harry was no potion master but he is an expert in runes. He had to become one to learn the secrets behind the Deathly Hallows. He may have failed to reverse the effects of the Hallows but his journey to the goal did leave him with a better understanding of runes and rituals.
Ancient Runes were the foundation upon which modern wizarding magic was built upon. Even potions were developed with the aid of runes and basic Arithmancy. There is a reason why runes are strenuously used in rituals instead of just using a specific spell to fire up the ritual. Runes provided a platform for more complex components to work in tandem with the required effects expected from a ritual.
As rituals usually pull chaotic magic from the world it is quite common to use runes that induce vitality in the recipient. This was done to ensure the recipient to not only avoid getting overwhelmed by the chaotic magic but also to cleanse any unforeseen defects in the body that may tamper with the ritual. Usually, the script used for this purpose is the Ouroboros script that represents renewal or the cycle of life and death.
The Unicorn horn Harry took was nowhere magically strong enough to heal the sick. Mostly because there was little magic left in the horn, to begin with. But, a few combinations of the Ouroboros script and some magicae effusio scripts etched on the horn would ensure the healing properties of the horn to climb high. It was by no means anywhere close to the effects of a full-fledged Unicorn horn but it should be close enough to tackle this non-magical sickness.
Etching the runic scripts or even making the medicine is not the hard part. The hardest part is to imbue the horn with enough magic to kick start its medicinal properties. Being the unfortunate owner of an underage body Harry was not developed enough to imbue magic into a dense magical construct without drawbacks. The Unicorn horn adorned with runic scripts specifically set for absorbing magic would be a catastrophe for Harry who was only developing his magical powers.
So, only one other person could imbue the horn with magic in Winterfell.
"Are you sure you will be able to gather enough magic in one day?" Harry asked, watching Spring arrange small rocks in a circle on the ground before the Heart Tree with the Unicorn horn sitting conspicuously at the very centre of the circle.
"Weirwood trees are saturated with ancient magic, Harrion Stark. The Heart Tree, on the other hand, holds magic as old as this world. It holds a portion of the magic of all those who have bonded to its life thread. Greenseers and Children have imbued the Heart Trees with their magic for thousands of years. If it is your goal to imbue this horn with as much magic as quickly as possible, this is the way." said Spring, her melodious voice flowing like a gentle stream.
"Can't you directly imbue magic into the horn?" he asked.
"I can but I prefer this method. If it is healing the sick among your people that you seek then this will be the best way. The ancestors in the Heart Tree will judge your intent and bless you with their magic." said Spring.
Setting the whole arrangement Spring climbed back into the Heart Tree while Harry observed everything from the ground.
"The horn will be ready by sunrise tomorrow." said Spring, after settling into a thick enough branch. "How do you intend to use it?"
"I'll show you if you come into the castle tomorrow." Harry offered but as always Spring declined his offer.
"It is better for my presence to remain a secret."
"It will be better if you come out in the open." said Harry.
"My people once lived peacefully amongst mankind. We got slaughtered and chased out of our lands by your kind. If it wasn't for the danger lurking beyond the Wall I wouldn't have visited these lands." said Spring, before disappearing behind the cover of blood-red leaves of the Weirwood trees in the Godswood.
Even if the Druid (he was not calling a highly intelligent and old race Children) hid herself among the thick leaves he knew she was observing him.
"So, we never spoke about the Three-eyed raven and what he wants with me." Harry said as he leaned back against the Heart Tree.
"The three-eyed raven is a powerful Greenseer who is gifted by the Old Gods to have watched the beginning and the end."
Harry's eyebrows were raised all the way to his hairline hearing Spring's claim. He could feel the 'end of the world' vibes coming from the Druid.
"Good for him I suppose. So, what's that got to do with me?" he asked.
"The cold winds are rising Harrion Stark and the dead rises with it. You are the only one blessed with strong magic south of the Wall. The three-eyed raven would like to teach you to control your gift and use it when the realms of men face their great enemy."
"What great enemy?" Harry asked struggling not to roll his eyes. This was getting too dramatic for his tastes.
"Death, Harrion Stark. For what else is the enemy of life?" asked Spring.
"I could think of other enemies far worse than death. Death is a release from the bonds of life. Without death there is no meaning for life." said Harry, closing his eyes feeling the weight of the years he have lived for a brief moment.
"Only if the death you are talking about is not subverted from its natural course, Harrion Stark. The White Walkers serve a terrible entity that intends to consume the spirit plane. They kill and absorb the souls of their victims to power this terrible entity so that it may eradicate all light from this world." said Spring, making Harry frown.
'That sounds an awful lot like a super-Dementor or something.' Harry thought, involuntarily letting out a shiver at the very thought.
"What's this entity's name if you don't mind me asking?"
"We don't know Harrion Stark. It came during the Age of Dawn to this continent fleeing from the east. It slumbered far away in the coldest part of Westeros, surrounded by darkness and frost. My people knew nothing of war and so we never bothered the creature. Little did we know that it would rouse from slumber once the Green king set foot in our lands."
"Green King? Who's that?" he asked, enthralled by the story.
"Another time Harrion Stark. The cover of darkness is near and I need to meditate." said Spring, before falling silent.
Harry scowled looking up but he could only see the red leaves of the Heart Tree. Disappointed that he was not getting a cool story out of Spring he decided to call it a day.
Tomorrow, he'd pull the story out of Spring. With that consoling thought, Harry took his leave from the Godswood.