Don't Panic: A Wizard's Guide to Westeros (HP × ASOIAF)

Notes:  Keep in mind that this is building into a nice, long, meandering story and plot. Enjoy the journey. 

This Chapter: The Thenns meet a wizard, but they're familiar with magic because they've already got a Wizard 'on-staff' so-to-speak. Harry discovers an unexpected ancestral connection. The elves might discover their origin. And our little band of magical tourists go on a bit of a fix-it spree to spruce up the village... with magic of course. 

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Last Time:  ..."We bring this small gift as a token of our goodwill." Harry said, while noting a few sceptical looks and raised eyebrows at his description of a Mammoth as a 'small' gift. With a wave of his hand, Harry levitated the mammoth over his head to land between the two parties. Much to the amazement of the hunting party. 

The leader of the hunting party, a tall, muscular young man, stared at the levitating mammoth, seemingly trying to figure out if he was still sleeping. "I am Torvald," he said slowly, finally pulling his eyes from the mammoth to the magic man. "My father is Chief Sigvald. We shall take you to him. Your magic is... incredible."  

Oops, so much for subtle Harry thought as he looked over to his obvious house elf friend who had started levitating the Mammoth again. 

He privately admitted to himself that he might have to pay a little more attention to the art of subtlety in future, but nobody's perfect. 

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Chapter 3: Thenn There Were Two

As the hunting party returned through the snowy landscape they each made their own observations of their strange guests, suspiciously eyeing them, and quietly muttering to each other when it seemed they'd not be heard. 

Svegg was known to be the gossip of the group, and suspicious of everything, so he was naturally the first to comment to his peers. "Look at that one," he said, gesturing towards Harry. "His clothing is completely unsuited for this cold weather. It's a wonder he's not frozen solid." 

Dareg nodded, "True, true... but I'm more concerned that no one seems bothered by the fact that his friend looks just like those creatures from the Elder's stories of old." he scratched his head, "Is no one else bothered by that? That's a literal Child of the Forest, and we're saying nothing?" he finished, almost a little desperate in his incredulous whispered observations.  

Some of the other stragglers listening in looked over at Dobby, then back at Dareg and shrugged. "Huh... I just thought his friend was short and ugly... seemed rude to comment" Svegg replied, now watching a little more closely. 

"At the very least, that creature seems... uh... a little loopy." Dareg muttered. He and Svegg cast a few side-eye glances at the one called Dobby. The creature was standing atop the inexplicably floating woolly mammoth like some conquering hero. It was difficult to gauge Dobby's sanity with just a glance, but Svegg couldn't help but notice the not one, but four, hats he wore, and they were both pretty sure the creature had an array of coloured socks pinned to his outfit. 

Svegg shook his head and replied, "every clan has their occasional strange member, maybe Dobby was just a bit too strange to keep around the others." Daregg eyed Dobby speculatively, "for all we know, he's the last of his kind. Maybe they were all a bit loopy. The legends do speak of them as powerful but somewhat over-enthusiastic creatures. They did carve faces into every Weirwood tree after-all. Can't expect a sane person to do that." 

They all nodded sagely at Dareg's observation. Svegg piped in, "Well, those things are for the Elders to sort out. I'm just a simple man, Dareg. All I want is a warm hearth and a warm meal. As long as they're not a threat to us, I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt."