starwars_fanfic
There was a time when fire and blood were the only magic Westeros knew. Dragons soared the skies like forgotten gods, and House Targaryen reigned from their obsidian fortress, fed by volcanoes and the sea. For centuries, the lords of Dragonstone looked east, toward the fallen empires of Valyria, never suspecting that to the west, beyond the water and the mist, another world existed.
A world where magic did not roar with scaled wings, but whispered from pieces of wood and murmured words. Where children traveled on scarlet trains and doors opened between bricks. A world that the dragons, in their ancestral pride, never considered a threat.
But the Targaryens have always seen farther than the rest. When their explorers returned with tales of sorcerers, wands, and an enchanted school hidden in the lands of the northern barbarians, Queen Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon understood that greatness is not inherited: it is conquered. If there was knowledge that could strengthen their bloodline, they must possess it.
And so it was that a thirteen-year-old princess, with silver hair and violet eyes, became the bridge between two worlds that were never meant to meet. Visenya Targaryen, raised among flames and wars, was chosen not for her blood, but for her inner fire. And though she did not yet know it, her journey to Hogwarts would not only change her destiny but would ignite a spark that even the oldest prophecies could not foresee.
Because when a dragon lands on foreign soil, it does not ask for permission. It only waits for the moment to take flight.