They had managed to settle into something of a routine these last months.
Elia spent most of her days with her children and Teddy, wrestling her daughter into lessons that the princess did not want to sit still for, or going through the Potter library as she and Harry discussed the goings-on of the Wizengamot.
He had taken her words to heart, dutifully attending the sessions and joying at the utter chaos his active presence caused.
Of course, his enjoyment aside, they had not yet found a reason for her to avoid the Malfoy wedding and the complications their going would cause.
"Oi, Rhae my turn!" Teddy shouted, muffled giggles following his call.
Poking her head into the sitting room, Elia held back a sigh of exasperation at seeing them play with their game cards. The children were seated near the open door that led to a small garden and patio, their cards thankfully kept away from the furniture and the portraits hanging overhead.
"How many times have we told you not to play without one of us here?"
"Granddad is keeping watch," Teddy replied, laughing as the card exploded in Rhaenys's face. To their astonishment, the flames grew in size as a giggling Rhaenys blew them toward the other cards. The entire deck exploded in a shower of sparks, and Elia stared in horrified relief, as none of the children seemed harmed.
Swiftly, she moved forward to ensure that they were well, smoothing a hand over Aegon's dusty hair as she checked the three of them for any scorch marks.
"Teddy," came James's strangled voice. "No magic with the games, remember."
"That wasn't me granddad," Teddy replied, a growing smile on his face.
Elia stared at Teddy, confusion on her face until he pointed to her daughter. "Rhae's the one making the cards go boom."
Oh, she thought.
Rhaenys had a smug smile on her face, before lighting the sparks into a small flame. "Look mama! I can do the same thing," she cheered.
"I see," Elia replied, forcing a smile onto her face, reaching out to stop Aegon from putting his hand into the fire. "Perhaps we should wait to show Harry that trick."
James Potter's face looked as she felt, though he managed to clear his expression before lightly chiding the children about using their magic unsupervised.
"Anyone want to go flying?" James asked loudly, staring at Elia with a pleading expression that was mimicked by the children.
"Flying!" Aegon cheered, and Elia withheld a snort at the wide-eyed look the boy had picked up.
"I suppose the weather is good enough," she said reluctantly, laughing at their cheers before Teddy bolted off to bring their brooms.
To her horror, Harry had bought toy brooms for her children, loudly insisting that they would not deprive such wonderful flyers of the opportunity, James nodding fervently in agreement behind him.
As the children raced outside, Elia asked, "How bad is it?"
"It's not a bad thing," James answered uneasily, shifting at the look of disbelief she shot him. "No, really. It isn't here."
"Here as in Potter Hall?" Elia asked sardonically.
"Well…yes," James admitted.
She rolled her eyes; as amusing as he was, James often downplayed the severity of events.
Elia slowly made her way outside, mind churning with possibilities as she absently thanked Winky for the tea. I need something stronger than this, she thought.
Aegon was flying in low circles as Rhaenys and Teddy raced across the garden, and it had taken a few months before Elia was comfortable enough with the thought of him flying on his own. Seeing her son's face light up, Elia knew Harry was behind her before his shadow fell across the table.
"I hear we've an unexpected development," he said idly, taking hold of his own cup of tea.
"Rhaenys has magic," Elia stated, tracking her daughter as she flew closre to Aegon. "But you already knew that."
Flicking her eyes at him, she saw Harry incline his head in a slight nod, his eyes never leaving Rhaenys.
"You all have magic," he stated quietly, "though I did not know to what extent."
"Would you have said anything?"
"I was planning on bringing it up but things have been a little chaotic lately," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Uncle Charlus has asked to speak with us later," he told her after some time, and Elia blinked in surprise.
Charlus Potter had been one of the many portraits she had met during her time at Potter Hall, but the man was often quiet unless in the company of his wife or son. He had been one of the first casualties of the first war, from what she gathered. That he wanted to speak to them did not bode too well.
"What was it your uncle did?" Elia asked.
"He was an Unspeakable," Harry replied, a slightly sour twist to his mouth. "Probably be appalled at what his department has turned into."
"How bad is it? If your Unspeakable uncle wishes to speak about Rhaenys's magic…" she trailed off.
"The Dragon has three heads! He is the Prince that was promised!" echoed in her mind, and Elia cursed the Targaryens for their obsession with prophecies and magic that had left Westeros a husk, that placed her children in danger.
"Slightly dangerous," Harry replied. "Though nothing we can't handle."
"Nothing we…Harry, if this puts them in danger—"
"Nothing will happen to them," he cut in, green eyes blazing as he stared intently at her. "I promise."
"What is it?" she whispered. Magic was not something she was familiar with, and the reactions of the Potter men brought nothing but worry to her.
"I'm not sure," he replied lowly, though there was a hesitant look in his eyes. "If my guess is true, it's more on the rare side."
"Your guess?" she questioned, but he was already shaking his head.
"I'd rather not voice it in case I'm wrong," he answered.
It turned out Harry's guess hadn't been wrong, and the Potter lord had stilled at having his thoughts confirmed.
They had spent the rest of the day with the children, languishing about the grounds of Potter Hall as Harry every so often ran his wand over her babes.
Once they had been put to bed, he had ushered her into a room the likes of which Elia had never seen before. They had walked into his solar, next to a tapestry depicting Potter Hall in what Elia assumed were it's earlier days. The wall had been smooth, and she watched as Harry cut his hand before placing the bloody palm flat on the surface.
"Do you trust me?" he asked unnecessarily, and Elia replied with a firm "Yes."
Following his directions, Elia had cut her palm lightly and let the blood fall and mix with his in a hidden groove that depicted a winged animal, it's bones protruding and visible even in stone.
The hall they entered was old; ancient, not like the rest of Potter Hall, and along the walls were tapestries depicting men wielding weapons, arcs of magic flying between them, and in one was a simply tree, names embroidered too small for her to make out as they passed.
"Potter Hall was built over the ruins of another home," Harry explained, lightly touching her elbow so she turned left at the split.
"This is more than ruins, it practically is another home," she stated lowly. The walls were much different from Potter Hall; where the house held a number of rooms done in various colours, this hall was a deep, shining black, veins of purple and silver splitting the walls.
"It is. Almost a thousand years ago, the family that owned this home was wiped out, but for one son. He went on to have sons, and his sons had only daughters. The eldest was Iolanthe," he told her.
"Io…your grandmother," she replied in shock.
"That one, yes," Harry said, a serious expression on his face. "Iolanthe's father hid the remains of his ancestral home from public memory before moving his family a village over."
The hall suddenly widened into a cavernous entry hall, lamps sparking to life as Elia noticed two wide doors. Etched on the floor in a silvered-purple was the winged animal from before, it's wings spread wide as if to fly.
"Come on," Harry muttered, heading to the door on the right.
The room he brought them to was a large meeting hall of some sort. There was a long table made of dark mahogany, large enough to seat at least thirty people. The floor was still the black stone of the halls, but the walls were slashed with intricate runes of silver.
Between the runes were gilded portraits, each of them filled with a past Potter.
"Harry," the portrait of Charlus called as they took their seats. "Princess, it seems we have found the likely answer."
They all wore slightly foreboding looks on their faces, but for a single man with an almost gleeful expression on his face.
Another man hissed lowly, and Elia watched as the portrait next to him nodded in agreement.
"Remember when you read that bit about my being a snake speaker?" Harry muttered lowly.
"I presume it runs in the family," she whispered sardonically.
His only reply was a slight grimace, eyes narrowed at the speaker, before Charlus cleared his throat.
"We have reason to believe that your children are elementals," he stated bluntly, causing a sharp exhale to leave Harry.
"You are certain?" Harry asked, eye never leaving Charlus.
"Persephone, if you would," he spoke to the portrait directly across from Elia.
The woman had the same dark hair as Harry, as unruly as the other portraits though hers looked more like deliberately wild curls, with vivid blue eyes. "Your Grace, the history of elementals in the magical world is long and boring, but I shall fill you in with the most important aspects.
Before most of the families that exist today could call on familial magics, before Merlin and the Founders, magic was far wilder and hierarchical. The current form of it is less chaotic than what existed in my grandfather's time.
Long ago, magicals were split into those who could harness the powers of the earth and those who could not. All forms of magic used it, however some were more attuned to it. Those people we considered elementals, for they could bend the elements to their wills, calling powerful storms, moving the earth, and even creating an inferno."
"You think Rhaenys is—"
"Not just your daughter," another cut in. This one was painted not much older than Elia, though the others all gave him deference when he spoke. "Ignotus Peverell, Your Grace," he introduced with a slight bow.
"Earlier, when I was using my wand near the children," Harry said. "I found Aegon had the same signature as Rhaenys…a similar signature to the magic you have."
"Me?" Elia asked in disbelief.
They all looked serious, even as Harry leaned forward in his seat and took hold of her hand.
"When you first came to Potter Hall I checked to see if you had any magic," he told her, green eyes dark and serious. "You all showed signs of it, though I could not tell exactly how large your cores were."
"A common issue with elementals," Charlus interjected. "Even we never knew from countless studies."
"What does this mean for us? You've already spoken of the history, but how will this affect my children?"
They exchanged a glance before looking pointedly at the man who had hissed earlier. He spoke lowly, an unknown accent in his voice as he hissed at the portraits. To her surprise, Harry's hold tightened slightly as he snapped a retort back at the portrait.
"Harry," she said quietly.
"Ignore him. Pontus has never had anything meaningful to add," he sneered at the portrait.
"Herakles," Charlus said sharply.
"The ritual to return them to Westeros is nowhere near ready, so you can ignore that suggestion," Harry retorted. "Nor would I allow untrained elementals to roam freely. We're done here."
Startled, Elia tugged firmly on Harry's hand as he made to exit the room, dragging his attention back to her. "Much as I appreciate your care Harry, I would like to know exactly what was said concerning my children."
He pursed his lips, shooting a glower at the portrait of whom she assumed was Pontus, before Ignotus's voice chimed in. "Pontus has a point Harry, much as you dislike it. Princess," he said, turning his golden eyes to Elia. "Your children and yourself represent a class of magician oft considered dangerous in our world. You will need to learn to harness your powers, however it might prove chaotic and slightly dangerous for all involved."
"Dangerous how?" she asked, ignoring their continued insistence on her possession of magical powers.
"Elemental magic rarely follows rules, it's more along the lines of wild and ancient powers. One or two elementals in Potter Hall can be covered, but having three of varying power levels living under the same roof as one who has recently harnessed and hidden their familial powers is asking for trouble," Charlus said darkly.
Another…she turned to Harry in slight shock, even as he grimaced at the words exchanged.
"It's why you most likely found yourself in Potter Hall," Harry said quietly. "The Peverells have had elementals in their line, even as they wielded the same magic as the rest of the Wizarding World. Combined with the parallel dimension this house exists in…" he trailed off, a dark look in hard green eyes.
"If you'll excuse us, my lords," she stated, tightly gripping Harry's arm. "It seems we have much to speak on."
The Potter and Peverell portraits quickly shuffled out of the room after giving Elia bows of acknowledgement, though she had eyes only for Harry.
"Explain," she ordered once they were out of the room.
"Pontus is being a git, we can ignore him," Harry stated fiercely.
"Not that," Elia snapped, "though I would like to know what exactly he said."
"He wants you out," Harry admitted with a scowl. "Pontus is fearful that some horror should befall the family, but he's speaking from his own experiences in his time."
"And the Unspeakables?" Elia asked sharply, recalling Charlus's words.
"There were rumours of elementals in Grindelwald's wars; the Unspeakables have fervently searched for any since then."
"How did you escape their notice?" she asked curiously.
"I told you I died," Harry began, a heavy sigh escaping him. "One of the…surprises of surviving was the emergence of familial gifts. The elemental bit was one of them; I'm not a complete elemental on the same level as yourselves, but it's given me access to more chaotic magic. I spent months holed up in Potter Hall learning to control it and avoiding everyone but Andromeda and Teddy."
"Which ele—" she stopped short at the sudden lifting of items into the air, a swift breeze of air flying across her hair before she saw Harry lift himself into the air.
"Turns out there's a reason all Potter's are fantastic at flying," Harry said lightly, eyes watching her in concern.
"Rhaenys and Aegon?" she asked curiously.
"Most likely fire, though I think they have a touch of control over air with their flying skills," he responded.
She took her seat once more; silently thinking on the information the Potters had given her as Harry watched. Finally, Elia locked eyes with Harry before asking, "What can we do?"
"Train them," he shrugged, grinning slightly at her admonishment of that habit. "They'll need to know how to control it or risk losing control."
"None of the Targaryens before them showed such powers," Elia remembered. Or if they had, they had kept it a closely guarded secret. But no, Summerhall might not have happened had they been able to.
"There's any number of reasons that could have happened. It could have come from your side, also skips generations sometimes, some probably had it but couldn't recognize the ability, or the magic of the world wasn't enough to allow them to learn."
"My family has neve—" Nymeria, she thought.
"Who?" Harry asked, startling her, as she hadn't known she'd spoken aloud.
"An ancestor of mine from hundreds of years ago," Elia told him. "Perhaps longer. Nymeria was a Rhoynish Princess, and her people fled to Dorne where they sought refuge and intermarried with the existing houses. The Rhoynish," she said slowly, black eyes locked onto his, "were said to be water mages."
"That would do it," Harry murmured in reply. "I suppose we have our work cut out for us, teaching two young children not to burn everything in sight."
Seven save us, Elia thought in slight dismay.
Things will start to pick up with this chapter out of the way! Next is a quick look into the next three years of kid adventures, followed by dragons!
