A/N: Just to let you know, these stories are being migrated to FFN to keep both accounts up to date. As an aside, I am still getting the hang of this site and am more active (and interactive) on AO3. Once we're all caught up, the next chapters will likely be posted first on AO3 followed immediately by it being posted here (max 5 minute difference between them). I do read all the reviews and will try to answer any questions/comments. If you're cool with my answering in PM's let me know, else I'll continue as I have with responses at the end (or beginning) of a chapter. Cheers!


Harry's hand was rubbing slow circles on her back, and Elia was torn between glowering at him to stop and quickly excusing themselves from tea. There was a knowing glint in his eyes as a light smirk tugged at his lips, and Elia cursed him as she listened to Narcissa speak of the plans to expand the gardens.

Pregnancy had brought a number of changes to their lives, chief among them a more amorous relationship and a husband who very much delighted in that fact.

She shifted in her seat under the pretence of pouring another cup of tea, contemplating whether it would be worth it to dig her heel in his foot.

"As you two are quite clearly interested in other activities," Narcissa drawled, grey eyes watching as her words brought a stop to her movements, "perhaps you can tell me what is on your minds."

"What are talking about, Aunt?" Harry asked innocently. "I'd like to know what you plan to do to the gardens next."

"You're far more interested in your wife, Herakles, and I do not need the specifics of your marriage. I can see enough to venture a guess as to what was running through your head," she added dryly, bringing a sharp flush to Harry's face.

Elia leaned back in her seat to watch as his aunt teased Harry, enjoying the flustered expression on his face.

Her hand rested lightly against the gentle swell of her stomach. She was just over three moons gone – the pregnancy easily hidden behind the robes the Wizarding World preferred to wear. As someone who often wore dresses underneath or in place of, Elia had taken them out herself, covering the growing baby bump.

Narcissa's eyes were sharply focused on the placement of Elia's hand, a sudden quiet falling between them.

"Herakles," she said, eyes flicking to his before she returned her stare to Elia.

There was a gentle smile on Elia's face, her happiness radiating through her as she locked eyes with Narcissa. "It's still early days," Elia told her. "But the healer is confident everything should go well."

She did not expect the well of tears in Narcissa's eyes, the usually unflappable Malfoy Matriarch showing a rare level of emotion that was reserved for her immediate family.

Narcissa leaned forward, her hands grasping each of theirs as she sent a radiant smile at them. "Congratulations, both of you."

Elia felt slight tears gather in her eyes, blinking them away as she watched Harry stand, a soft kiss and hug for his aunt before he mumbled something about finding the restroom.

"I did not think it was possible," Narcissa admitted, eyes soft as she moved into the chair next to Elia. "Andromeda used to say Teddy was his salvation after they discovered it."

"Nor did we," Elia replied. "It was only at the three month point that we believed it could happen."

Narcissa's eyes sparkled in delight as she murmured, "A solstice baby." Her words brought a slight flush to Elia's face, remembering the night vividly.

Elia smiled again, leaning into Narcissa as the woman wrapped her arms around her. "I'm glad, darling, truly."

It was odd how natural the transition between them occurred. At some point, they had gone from friendly interactions to a deeper relationship. She was no longer a mere friend – hadn't been for years now – but more closely resembling a mother, Elia the daughter she never had.

"Have you thought on names?" Narcissa asked.

"Something celestial," Elia answered, lips curving into a fond smile at the softening of her face.


They were curled together on Rhaenys's bed as close as Elia's stomach would allow, the mother and daughter spending their last night together amongst the drawings and posters plastered on her walls.

"Are you sure you don't know what you're having?" Rhaenys asked, purple eyes glinting in muted delight as the babe kicked at her palm.

"A quidditch player," Elia grumbled, running a hand across her stomach as if it would help settle the babe.

Her insides had taken quite the hit, this child as active as she imagined Oberyn had been in her mother's womb.

"If it's a boy, you'll name him Cepheus right?" Rhaenys asked.

"If it's a boy," Elia agreed, though a part of her felt it wasn't. Call it intuition, but she imagined a little girl with thick Rhoynish curls instead. "We agreed to wait until the babe was born, sweetling."

She waited, head resting next to Rhaenys's as her daughter wrestled with her emotions. Despite her joy at a new sibling, Rhaenys had spent the past weeks walking around in an odd daze, her eyes troubled as she struggled with unknown thoughts. Elia had spent several nights soothing her as she curled between her and Harry, her nightmares returning. She would be off to Hogwarts in the morning, no longer so close to her mother, and Elia felt the oddness of parting with her daughter, a slight fear that crashed through her before she calmed herself.

They were no longer in Westeros; no longer at the Red Keep under siege, no swords making their way to take them however they deigned. She had watched her daughter live a life Elia might not have been able to guarantee in King's Landing, and Hogwarts was merely the next stage of Rhaenys's life.

"Were you scared when you left Dorne?" Rhaenys asked softly, hands picking at Elia's dressing gown.

"I was," Elia told her, carding her hand through Rhaenys's hair. "It's not easy, leaving one's home. I was homesick that first year, even when I knew what was expected of me."

Even after, she didn't say.

She quietly lay next to her, soothing Rhaenys as she waited for her daughter to speak of what truly bothered her. Rhaenys was not Teddy, leaving a home that she had known meant safety and having to deal with the weight of being the son of war heroes.

"Mama," she whispered, her head nuzzling closer. "Did my father leave us?"

Elia forced her hands to continue moving, resisting the urge to still at Rhaenys's words knowing she should have expected them soon.

"What brought this on?" Elia questioned, dark eyes flitting to her daughter's face. Rhaenys had closed her eyes; her brows pinched and the rest of her face blank as she attempted to hide behind her occlumency.

"I want to know before I go to Hogwarts," she told her, voice strong and unbending. "You never talk about him and…"

"And?"

"He's never there," Rhaenys whispered, face crumpled the slightest bit. "In the dreams, he's never there when they come, when…when I ask him to come."

Elia felt her heart crack at hearing the note of despair in Rhaenys's voice.

What could she say to that? Rhaegar had left, absconding with the daughter of a Lord Paramount and leaving them to deal with the fallout of his actions. Had he returned immediately, the answer might have come easier to her, but she had not seen him for months before he had ridden into King's Landing, a prince gathering his army while his children remained in the grip of his mad father.

"Do you hate him?" Rhaenys asked her, purple eyes staring at Elia's dark orbs. There was very little of Rhaegar present in her; but for the eyes and the slope of her nose, Rhaenys was very much a Martell.

I did, she thought. I do, she knew.

"It is easier to forgive the dead," Elia answered. "Even more when you do not live in the shadow of their actions."

She felt the wet drop of tears, pulling Rhaenys closer as she whispered, "I hate him."

They spent the night together like that, Elia's arms wrapped around her daughter as she cried one last time for the father she would never again see.


Had she been in less pain, Elia might have found it in herself to be more amused at the situation, watching her usually calm husband shift between nervous panic and unabashed joy.

Her labour pains had started two nights ago, and it wasn't until this morning that she was certain the baby was ready to come out.

If there was one thing she would say about the Wizarding World, it was that she was profoundly glad they didn't force her to start pushing until they were certain her body was ready.

Harry had been in a slight panic, fretting over the pain and flooing the healer. They had checked her over before telling them there was still time. Having gone through two labours, they asked her to floo them when she was certain she was ready.

She clamped down in pain, her hand gripping Harry's as the healer and medi-witch bustled around the bed. When offered the option for a home birth, Elia had leapt at the chance, not wanting to stay in the sterile hospital rooms when she could remain in the comfort of Potter Hall.

Harry had insisted on staying, sitting half behind her as she leaned back against him, a small towel in his other hand that he used to wipe the sweat off her brow. He didn't show any pain, even when she knew her grip hurt him, soft words leaving his lips.

It was strange; despite living in the Wizarding World for nearly a decade, there were some things Elia had taken too long to get used to. Her husband in the birthing room had been one such thing she had recoiled at slightly, though being with him now removed the oddity of the situation.

"You're doing wonderfully," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of her head as the healer hunkered down in front of her, urging Elia to push.

A part of her rebelled at the thought, her body remembering what came after Rhaenys and Aegon's births; but things were different now – she was different, was healthier and not left to the tender mercies of people with their own agendas – and so she shoved the slight apprehension away.

A wave of pain crashed through her, a scream torn from her throat as she pushed and pushed, hearing the slight crack of glass as the cup next to the bed shattered, water falling to the floor.

She didn't know how much water there was, but she guessed from the tingle of magic across her back – the feel of it so very distinctly Harry's – that he was working to limit it. A rather unfortunate side effect of nurturing her powers was it's pesky habit of rearing it's head at odd times, and a delirious chuckle left her, mind imaging the look on her former goodfather's face had this happened with any of the other births.

It felt like an eternity, felt as if it happened between the span of several heartbeats, before finally, the healer urged her to push one more time, the babe's head crowning.

Her screams were joined with the squalling cries of a babe, the child slipping out as Elia felt the release of pressure, falling against Harry's chest.

"A girl," the healer told them, the two of them cleaning the babe as she felt Harry press a kiss to her cheek.

A girl, she thought, heart expanding with love for the small child being brought over to them. Another daughter, she thought, unbidden.

The healer busied herself with cleaning Elia as the medi-witch placed their daughter in her arms, Harry's hand coming underneath to help support her.

She was so very tiny; little fists moving as she fussed the slightest bit, turning in her swaddling clothes. She had a head full of hair; thick and black that curled haphazardly, a mix of both her parents. Her eyes were closed, lashes falling against skin the same bronze hue as Elia's own, and she was certain she would see bright green eyes.

"Shhh," she crooned, feeling the tears in her eyes as she held her closer. "You're fine, sweetling. We have you."

She felt Harry's chin on her shoulder, leaning her head against his as he murmured, "She's perfect."

His voice was shaky and thick with awe and tears, and Elia knew they fell freely down his face.

"She looks like Rhaenys," Elia murmured, recalling the short glimpse she'd had of her firstborn shortly after her birth, before the pain had put her in a weeklong sleep.

"She looks like you," he said, a finger running across the side of her tiny face before he held her hand. Maia's nose twitched the slightest bit, her hand curling around Harry's finger as she yawned.

They sat together quietly, watching their daughter sleep in their arms before she felt him shift to arrange the pillows behind her. He stood to escort the healer and medi-witch out, stopping to press a firm kiss on her lips.

"Thank you," he breathed, green eyes glowing with joy and love. He kissed her once more before he left her alone with their daughter and the very many feelings she brought with her.

Beneath the joy and love was overwhelming relief. There had been a few times, throughout the course of her pregnancy, that Elia had grappled with the feelings it brought, knowing she would have what others had sworn was an impossibility. Greater than that was the relief of having a child not bound to destiny or fate; one free from the machinations of gods or princes, free from a life meant only to mimic those that came before her.

"You are mine," she whispered, leaning her forehead against Maia's, her hands curled against Elia's face as she breathed her in, silently contemplating the marvel that was her newest babe.

Harry returned, an excited Aegon fidgeting next to him before the boy broke free, her son halting as he neared the bed.

"Is that the baby?" he asked, shifting to get a better look. "Papa said it's a girl."

"Come here, sweetling," she told him, patting the empty space next to her.

Aegon crawled onto the bed, sinking into Elia's side as he stared enraptured at his sister. His purple eyes were wide, cataloguing every part of her. "She looks like you," he told her. "But squished."

Harry barked a laugh, green eyes dancing as Elia replied in amusement, "You looked like that. Just as small."

"Can I hold her?" he asked, eyes cautious as he sat up, folding his arms beneath her body as he half cradled her, a tanned finger running across her hair. "What's her name?"

"Maia," Harry answered, a soft smile on his face as he looked at what was gathered of their family. "Maia Andromeda Potter-Black."

"Maia," Aegon tested, nodding firmly in approval. "I like it," he told them, a touch smug at being the first of her siblings to hold her.

Maia stirred in her sleep, blinking her eyes open to stare at a delighted Aegon, green, green eyes peering innocently at the purple orbs staring intensely at her.

Elia felt a tingle of magic, her own stirring in recognition as Aegon watched his sister, an unknown promise passing between them as Maia fell back asleep.

Aegon smiled at them, a full grin so characteristic of her son that Elia once more felt love swell for this family of hers.


Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you all seem to be enjoying the story! To answer any comments/questions:

mordicus18: They make it to Westeros in good time, though not all of them finish Hogwarts. I'm glad you like the slice of life take on it.

osterreicher97: Yep, once we're all caught up the pace will be the same as it is on AO3. I'd like to think I'm fairly frequent but I do take small breaks when necessary. For the fertility issues, it's a bit of working with what JKR has told us in canon to come up with some plausible scenarios and try to use wizarding history/culture for an explained answer.

P. : The only Harry/Arianne I know of is "Death Has No Master, But Life Has Servants" by Jinchuu21.

era-romance: Jon will make it into the story sometime in Westeros. Bit tricky dealing with him.

artemis926: I have considered it, but it'll also pop up in the story itself via conversations. If I do any outtakes it might be after everything has been completed and I work on a rewrite.