chapter 3

Harry Potter was a conundrum.

He lived in solitude with his son, no wife or other family members in this home, and it was clear to see how much he adored the child. Even Aegon and Rhaenys enjoyed their host. He laughed freely with the children; she had watched one evening as he had told them a story, Aegon perched on her lap, as Rhaenys and his son Teddy sat close to him on the ground uncaring at how it looked for a lord to be doing so.

When it was just the two of them he was politely distant, a hint of ice in his gaze when they discussed Westeros, and Elia was always reminded of the fact that this man most likely was a skilled killer.

Potter Hall was a beautiful home, overly large for only two people, though Elia had not seen any servants to tell if any others were here. Nor could she complain; she had grown up in Sunspear and knew the opulence of the Great Houses.

And there was no doubting he was from an ancient and proud line; rich tapestries decorated the walls forming scenes of battle and peace and splendour, the same features staring back at her from portraits of family members going back hundreds of years. There had been a family tree in another room – a blue wall with pale silver-grey spidery lines spelling names – where she had found his son showing Rhaenys his relations, though oddly there was no name next to Harry's to show Edward's mother.

A natural son, she guessed. Teddy certainly took after his father – other than his heart-shaped face he was Lord Potter writ small.

"Lord Edward," she called. The little boy had a funny look on his face, though for the life of her she could not understand why.

"I'm not a lord," he told her, green eyes sparkling in amusement. "That's papa. Just call me Teddy."

"It is what we call all nobles in Westeros, unless you are a knight," Elia said, a slight smile on her face as Rhaenys nodded in agreement.

"Then you're a Ser!" her daughter chirped.

Teddy's face scrunched in thought, his hair suddenly turning a bright blue. Elia felt herself take a sharp breath, blinking furiously to see if her eyes were playing tricks on her.

Teddy stood there excitedly rambling with Rhaenys over knights, not caring or possibly unaware of the fact that his hair had changed colours.

"Oh, you've done it now Teddy," a laughing voice chimed in, and she spun to see an older Harry Potter laughing in a portrait.

Mother have mercy where have I found myself, she thought bewildered, hand lightly shaking as she sat on the settee. A child with changing hair and a talking portrait; she had clearly lost her wits.

Rhaenys had jerked in shock, though she was now moving forward in curious excitement.

"Gran's gonna tan your hide," Teddy sang, a grin on his face.

"Not if your dad doesn't get to you first," the man retorted, a hand pulling at his hair as his hazel eyes crinkled in amusement.

Teddy seemed to realize what the man was speaking of, for he suddenly blanched in horror, pulling a lock of hair forward and groaning in dismay when he saw the colour.

"I don't suppose you could ignore all this," the man said to her.

"No, I don't think I can," Elia replied faintly. Clearing her throat she asked, "Who are you?"

The man straightened before dropping into a fluid bow, "James Potter at your service, Your Highness."

"Your Grace," Rhaenys corrected imperiously.

James Potter's smile grew wider as he bowed to Rhaenys, "Forgive me, Your Grace. I should remember how to address a princess."

"Grandad," Teddy said suddenly, "Where's papa?"

"In his study," James replied. "Apologies princess, I'm sure my son wished to tell you about all of this himself."

Magic, she thought, recalling Harry's hurried words the other day.

"I'm not so certain," Elia told him wryly. If she thought too hard on it she might break down in shock.

Calm yourself, she told herself sternly. If dragons could roam the Seven Kingdoms than why be surprised at such magic?

Teddy was shifting nervously, and Elia mustered a smile for the poor child. "Do not fret, Teddy. I'm sure your father won't take umbrage at your actions," she told him soothingly.

"No, he won't," James piped up. "Accidents like this always happen. Harry himself turned the cat purple when he was a tyke, Lily couldn't change it back for some time."

"Lord Potter is your son?" She suddenly asked. The man looked relatively young, capable of having a son at his age, unless these portraits were painted differently.

They must, considering they move and speak, she thought.

"Yes, my only child," he said, a slight smile tinged with pride and sadness.

An only child, though her host was surprisingly good with children for one who had presumably not spent so much time around them.

"James Potter," a voice scolded, and Elia was amused to see the man with the laughing eyes cower slightly in sheepish acknowledgement.

The woman who entered the frame – and really this was going to take some getting used to – had flowing vibrant red hair, a pale heart-shaped face and her son's blazing green eyes.

"Lily-flower," James said with a bright smile, "might I introduce our guests."

Teddy had seemingly forgotten his hair in the wake of his grandmother's appearance, hair flashing to match her colour.

"Hi gran!" the boy chirped, and the woman sent a warm smile at him and Rhaenys.

"You must be Elia," she said, "and Rhaenys I presume? Welcome to Potter Hall princesses, I am Lily Potter."

"Well met, my lady," Elia replied, a slight smile on her face. Harry Potter's parents were such lively people; both warm and with infectious smiles that forced you to return their enthusiasm, and Elia wondered what had happened to their son to leave him so grim.

He has the look of a soldier, she thought darkly, and war leaves no person untouched.