**Hermione's POV**
Hermione let everyone know she would be heading to shore before them her own way, as she had to take care of a few things first.
The ship rocked gently in the calm waters of the harbor, the distant sounds of the port city drifting across the bay, merchants shouting, dock workers calling to each other, the creak of wood and rope as ships were loaded and unloaded.
Hermione didn't want to worry Dany over the warlock she'd tracked, but she did plan on using her as bait.
She knew the warlock would hide if Hermione was around, and she wanted to find this rat's den, not just a single rodent.
Meanwhile, three more rats were miles outside the city, waiting. It seemed she would have to be quick to make it back to meet Dany at the docks.
She should have enough time to get there and back.
Winky, the poor dear, was dead tired and was ordered to rest when they docked.
But Hermione was content that Dany had enough protection for the moment.
She looked one last time at the map before finding the location via her Point-Me spell. The dot pulsed faintly on the parchment, just outside the city walls.
Rolling up the map, she took off her cloak and now wore her dress, perfectly clean and tidy despite the journey. She would put the cloak back on once she was finished with those outside first.
She looked up into the sky as silver fog rolled out of her body, obscuring her from vision as the now cloud flew into the sky, heading for three very unfortunate warlocks as her obscuras form flew to meet them.
The wind carried her higher, the city sprawling below like a maze of red brick and sun-bleached stone, the people down below oblivious to the impending extermination.
---
**Ser Barristan Selmy's POV**
Ser Barristan was nervous and excited.
In just a few short minutes, the princess he had traveled far to find would be here.
The afternoon sun beat down on the docks of Astapor, the smell of the sea mixing with the acrid stench of the slave pits. The heat shimmered off the red brick pyramids in the distance.
He had found information at the local taverns easily enough, drunk men always loved to tell stories after all.
Now that he had found the destination, he had also discovered a terrible plot.
There were whispers that the princess had claimed the fallen star and used it as a weapon to smite the warlocks of Qarth. When the warlocks and a fellow conspirator tried to assassinate the council and steal Qarth for themselves, the tale also said the princess rode a dragon of fire before exploding in a brilliant display, then landing to save the Thirteen.
The stories varied, but the point was clear: the warlocks were not all defeated, they still planned on trying to kill the princess, and claim her Dragons and the Fallen star.
He just needed to keep watch and follow her until he could stop this assassin and hopefully win a chance to speak and beg forgiveness, his sleepless nights of his failures still haunting him to this day.
The chance came sooner than he thought, as he focused again on his mission to protect his future Queen.
He started tailing the princess and her escort, a Northerner by the looks of it. The man looked familiar, but Barristan just couldn't place it.
He did remember overhearing Lord Varys mention a Ser Jorah from Bear Island accompanying her, so this must be the man, he thought to himself as he kept his hood up and ready to move.
There she stood, looking just as beautiful as her mother when she was so full of life, before her fathers trip to madness.
The resemblance was striking, the silver hair catching the sunlight, the violet blue eyes, the regal bearing even her travel worn clothing looked in good repair and clean as she wore her hair in intricate braids reminiscent of her late mother.
Just to her right was Ser Jorah, scanning the crowds while talking to her Grace, at least the man was competent so far, but he wouldn't fully trust the man until he knew him better.
That was far more than most knights, and especially the young bastard king he had seen recently in the Seven Kingdoms. Incompetence or dishonor running rampant thru the ranks of the Lords of this era.
They started making their way down the steps from the upper dock as her Grace was distracted by something Barristan didn't see.
"Damn," he muttered to himself.
He'd paid too much attention to the man on the princess's right, he didn't check the crowd, he was a bit rusty, it seemed, but he would soon remember what it was like to be a real knight again, to a worthy monarch.
He followed close behind them, keeping an eye on the crowd, hiding behind carts and stalls. The smell of spiced meats and unfamiliar herbs filled the air. He was unable to hear the conversation, but both seemed unworried.
Then he saw what drew her attention, the image not what he expected.
It was just a child, or was it. He could see it the madness in the child's eyes the hunger for something foul.
He knew these warlocks were evil, but seeing them use a child...
Was the child bait, or was she the trap? He needed to get closer and keep his eyes open.
With his right hand resting on the dagger at his hip, he hurried to follow until both stopped at the pier.
The young girl, cute, innocent looking, smiled brightly while playing with her toy ball, drawing the princess in. But the princess seemed to keep a good distance as the young girl rolled the ball toward her Grace with a smile on her face, as if she were just playing a simple game.
*Wait* He recognized that type of toy.
It held a hidden compartment that opened when you twisted the ball.
He realized too late as he rushed toward the princess, dagger drawn ready to defend her grace he just wish he had his sword on hand.
He managed to grab her hand away and force her to drop the ball, but was grabbed from behind by Ser Jorah, strong hands seizing his shoulders as he struggled to break free of the younger man.
His hood fell away from his face, Ser Jorah recognized him, giving Barristan just what he needed, Jorah paused in confusion, his grip loosening just enough to break free.
Barristan rushed to her Grace, who had fallen near the ball, which was now open.
The manticore infant was angry and charging, its tail raised, venom glistening at the tip.
He had but a second, but he would make it.
Then he stabbed his dagger straight into its center, halting it and delivering a killing blow.
The creature twitched once, twice, tail stabbing uselessly against the steel dagger attempting in its last moments to kill what had attacked it, then went still.
This commotion was drawing a crowd, voices rose in alarm, as people pressed closer to see what had happened.
Barristan flicked the dying bug off his dagger with a look of contempt then went after the warlock child, who hissed at him like a monster, sounding like an adult manticore, not a human child at all.
She was quick as she ran to the edge and jumped off, no fear of what waited below.
He ran to follow her, but she disappeared out of thin air, the water below unmolested, not even a ripple to show a person hit the surface.
He looked behind him, and up on the retaining wall, they all saw her as she hissed one more time and turned around to disappear again—
But a figure cloaked in a deep purple cloak had appeared behind her with a *POP*, stabbing the girl with what looked to be an extraordinarily beautiful rapier sword straight into her heart.
The girl looked down, then her head was thrown back as a black cloud flew from her mouth and dissipated into the air, her body quickly breaking down and drying turned to ash and blowing away in the breeze, as the figure then disappeared once again with a *POP*.
The crowd gasped, none screamed, but many had made signs of prayer, others stood frozen in shock.
What in the Seven Hells was that? Barristan thought to himself. The image replaying in his over and over again, was that a young girl holding that sword just now? he questioned himself.
But he had more pressing concerns. He needed to talk to the princess.
---
**Hermione's POV**
Hermione decided she was done for the day, it was far to hot to deal with all of this nonsense this early in the morning, but someone had to do it.
That old man had gotten in the way of her stopping everything from happening twice. First when he ran out and blocked her from blasting the girl, but then once again getting in the way of that nasty bug. She knew it was not the fault of the old man, how could he know she was there, but that didn't make it less irritating.
At least she'd taken care of the issue with the warlocks, as far as she could tell, but she would find a better map tomorrow and confirm things.
She was tired.
Not from the attack against the other three, that had lasted almost as long as this fight did, mere seconds of spell work.
But what she was tired about was the fact that these warlocks were working with someone, and her only clue was some golden mask.
She did not know what this mask was supposed to mean but the last warlock did say "You may have defeated the Warlocks Star witch, but the Master is eternal and will rule this world." She had rolled her eyes and ended him curious about just who or what this master could be.
She decided she was not dealing with even more questions, she had far to much already to handle.
She was going to go back to her bunk and eat and read for the rest of the day and would not be disturbed unless needed, Harry always did tell her she should just take a day off for herself sometimes.
The ship creaked gently as she made her way below deck, the familiar scent of sea air and wood surrounding her.
She would find out what this old man wanted later, maybe he just wanted money or a reward or something he didn't have any killing intention towards Dany so she was confident Ser Jorah would pay the guy and send him on his way.
This entire city was horrible, she hoped Dany knew what she was doing when she said she didn't need help negotiating with these people, she had seen the slaves in cages and wanted to interfere but was worried of making an unknown enemy before they were ready.
The red brick buildings, the smell of slaves and suffering it all turned her stomach, she knew ending slavery was never an easy venture but nothing worth doing ever was.
Well, she was a grown woman, so she didn't need Hermione holding her hand.
After all, Hermione had a book that her mother had been reading called *The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty (part 1) by Anne rice*. She shrugged never having read this particular Muggles work.
She had grabbed it from home in her last year at Hogwarts and had never gotten a chance to read it.
And she wanted to read something and feel closer to her mom and this was one of her favorite books for some reason. Missing her parents she wanted to connect anyways she could and get to know what things her mother liked, even though she knew her mother would never know or even remember her again.
The thought stung, but she pushed it aside.
Well, she would just brew up some tea and read and let Winky sleep in.
She heated the water with a flick of her wand, the soft whistle of the kettle soon filling her cabin, the familiar ritual was comforting.
Hermione had spent the good part of ten minutes getting the perfect indent into the pillows for the long read. She arranged them just so, settled into her bunk, and took a sip of her tea.
Earl Grey, Perfect.
She opened the book, finally able to relax with what she assumed would be a good, calm book.
"Well, let's see what this book is about, then, shall we?" she said to herself as she turned to page one.
The cabin was quiet save for the gentle creak of the ship and the distant sounds of the port.
A perfect afternoon for reading.