I don't normally do any ANs at the top of a new chapter but I felt compelled to after the feed back from the last chapter.
I don't ask anyone to read these stories I put up on this site and if you don't like this story then I can't force you to read it but leaving a review simply stating that you knew this story was going to be rubbish simply because I included "Don't like, don't read!" in the description is ridiculous.
As for reviews that point out mistakes I made in my writing, whether they be spelling or content related, I welcome as I don't believe I'm going to get better without being told where I need to improve. This does not included saying that my writing is shit or just criticizing vague aspects of my work.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my next chapter.

"This is my eldest, Doran." The princess of Dorne said. "These days Doran handles most matters within Sunspear, I thought it would help him before he himself becomes the ruler of Dorne. Though he has requested to go on a tour of the free cities in a couple of years time so I will have to resume that responsibility once more." She continued. Doran was a man of 20 name days, I really didn't understand why they didn't just say how many years old a person was, and was slightly below average height. He wasn't well muscled and didn't appear to have the wiry build of a man who fought with a spear so he was clearly was no fighter. Doran stepped forwards bowing to my father before stepping back into line. He didn't say a word.

"This is Oberyn, my youngest." Princess said, "He's going to be fighter, he's been begging me to let him start training but six name days is far too early for such things, don't you think Rickard?"

"Oh I don't know, Tyene, in the north we've always allowed them to learn as long as soon as they're able to pick up the practice swords." Father said.

And I did understand this bit. Practice swords are heavy, much heavier than a real sword. This was to train strength so that when live steel was used you were able to fight for longer, strike hard and all round fight better. It was also a good way of stopping overly eager small children from swinging around potentially dangerous weapons.

Tyene seemed to understand if the grin that had grown on her face was anything to go by. "Well said, Lord Stark. Oberyn we'll have to see if you're ready for training on the morrow." The little boy looked like he could jump over the moon he was so happy. Though I don't know why I was calling him small, in this world he was older than me as well as being a couple of inches taller than I was.

"I have a daughter as well, Rickard, but unfortunately she's ill." The smile from the princess's face dropped. "She's been plagued by illness from birth, it's a miracle in itself that she survived infancy."

"The gods work in mysterious ways, princess, she must have an important role in the future if she's beating all the odds." Father said, he was trying to be comforting he only ever really talked about gods and their workings when he was trying to comfort someone. "They wouldn't let her suffer for so long if they didn't have a purpose marked out for her."

The princess smiled slightly though it didn't really look like she was totally convinced by his words. "Come, servents will show you to your rooms and once you've freshened up we will host a feast in your honour."

The feast that followed was really nice. Well actually it was great. The spiced dornish food reminding me of the indian food I'd always enjoyed in my first life. Though the heat and the tastes being very different from the food in the North made it so that my father and siblings didn't like it so much.

To combat the heat father drank a lot. His large consumption of wine led to him being led away from the feast as soon as the food had been cleared away by the princess of Dorne. And if the sounds I'd heard coming from my father's room after I'd made sure that my siblings were in bed were anything to go by, father had a night full of passion.

While my father was caught up in the princess I went exploring the castle.

Old Palace was a fairly simple castle. Consisting of two main tower, Spear Tower and the Tower of the Sun. We were being housed in the Tower of the Sun in the rooms below that of the Martells. At the top of the Tower of the Sun was the throne room which was topped by a glass, I wanted to see it for myself.

So I climbed the stairs, and gods there were lots of stairs. I passed the door that I guessed led to the Martells private apartments and kept climbing. Most of Old Palace was made of the same polished red coloured stone and the way that the moonlight shone through the long slim windows made it look reflective.

When I'd finally run out of stairs to climb I knew I must have reached the throne room.

And I was right at the opposite end of the room were the two thrones that gave some of this room it's splendor. The thrones were almost identical, the only difference was that the throne on the right was inlaid with the Martell spear while the throne on the left had the Rhoynish Sun.

And although my calves were burning I walked across the room to take a closer look.

It was clear that the spear seat got more use than the sun seat. And I knew from the books I'd found in Winterfell about the great houses that the current ruler of Dorne sat in the spear seat while the sun seat was mainly ceremonial though was sometimes used by the consorts of the ruler. I could see that there were many marks in the armrest of the spear seat, it appeared as if they'd been made by a dagger being stabbed into the wood, maybe Dorne had once had an irritable ruler with a fondness of stabbing?

"Only a ruler of Dorne has ever sat in those chairs." A voice said.

I turned to find a girl. She was dornish, there was no doubt about that, but her olive skin seemed less healthy than that of the other locals I'd met. Her black hair didn't seem to have the same sheen as many of the female servants in the palace. There were bags under her eyes and her skin looked loose, as if she'd lost a lot of weight.

"It's a good thing I'm not sitting on them then." I said. It was sarcastic and rude, I didn't know who this girl was but at the moment I couldn't bring myself to care all that much. Really five years of hiding as a infant noble child was doing my head in. So much I couldn't say! And not just because of my age but my station as well.

"Princess." She said.

"Pardon?" I honestly hadn't caught her meaning.

"You're supposed to address me as Princess." She said and despite her being on the other side of the room I could she her roll her eyes.

"You're a Princess?" I really hadn't expected that!

"I am Princess Elia Martell and you are intruding within my ancestral palace!"

"I'm not intruding! I'm-"

"Well I haven't seen you before, mother hasn't hired any new servants recently. So you must be an intruder!" She was shouting now, her adolescent voice high and shrill.

"I'm a guest!" I shouted back, my voice annoyingly almost as high as her's: puberty couldn't happen soon enough.

She scoffed and started stalking . "Mother would have told me if we had guests."

"She said you were ill." I explain, she was clearly angry now and she didn't look like she adverse to violence. "That's why she said you weren't there to greet us."

"Who are you." She was standing less than a meter away, her eyes squinting slightly. "Don't lie to me, I could have you executed!" While I doubted that I would actually be executed particularly while her parents were fucking a couple of floors below us, I was going to be honest with her.

"Harold Stark, Princess." I introduced myself.

"Why would a Stark be so far south?" She was obviously suspicious.

"I'm on my way to be fostered at Starfall." I said, "Under Lord Dayne."

"Why would a northerner be fostered at a small dornish house though?"

"I don't know, father wouldn't tell me."

"Your family is here with you?"

"Just my father and my younger siblings."

"You have more family?"

"Just two older brothers, Brandon stayed in Winterfell and Ned is fostered at the Eyrie"

"No mother?"

"She's dead." I said coldly, I wasn't overly experienced with having a mother but it still hurt.

"Sorry. I know what it's like my father died a couple of years ago."

"You didn't know, it's fine."

She smiled slightly. She looked a lot better when she smiled the signs of illness fading from her face and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Your mother said you were ill, could you tell me what it is?" I asked but quickly tacked on, "You don't have to tell me I'm just curious." I didn't want to push or offend her, she was a the only daughter of Dorne and technically was above me, a third son, in standing.

She look self conscious, like she didn't want to tell me but also at the same time was internally debating whether to tell me or not to tell me.

"The maesters have said that I'm ill because I was born early, there's nothing they can do, I just have to be careful." She said with a fierce expression on her face almost daring me to make fun of her illness.

But I didn't. I wasn't Malfoy.

I smiled at her sadly, I couldn't really help her without revealing my magical ability and I didn't really want to do that.

But a girl's life hung in balance.

I needed to lie low and not bring any attention to myself.

Elia could die.

I could die if the wrong person found out.

Elia was nice, she could become a friend.

Sometimes I cursed my instinct to help people.

I walked away from Elia and the thrones and pretended to study some artwork on the walls.

"What do you know of magic, Elia?" I asked, hoping the familiarity of dropping her title would make her less likely to call me crazy and hear me out.

"It's dead." She said though the tone in her voice seemed questioning as if she didn't know where I was going with this but wanted to know. "The maesters said that it died out with the dragons."

I'd heard the same from Walys in Winterfell. "That's an odd thing to say, don't you think. How could something as powerful as magic just die out? No, I don't think that's possible. I think that the people who were able to use magic died out or became ignorant of their heritage. It's not like maesters ever taught how magic was to wielded! Maybe people just forgot how to harness it?"

"What's this about, Harold?" Elia ask. She was worried now, obviously because I'd gone of on this unrelated tangent that talked of forbidden and dangerous things now that I think about it.

"What if it's not dead?"

"What if what's not dead?"

"Magic!"

"Magic?"

"Magic."

"But the maesters said-"

"The maesters don't know everything!"

"But the train at the citadel."

"It's foolish to believe that everything that can be known is known."

"You think magic is still alive?"

"I know it."

This was my gamble, would Elia believe me? Would Elia be scared? Would Elia tell?

"Prove it."

I smiled. It was from the memories of Tom Riddle's early life I'd reviewed with Dumbledore that I got my inspiration.

The thrones caught fire.

Of course this was a gamble. So far in Westeros I'd only really managed to summon and banish objects, light fires and seal very small cuts. Nothing overly impressive really but wandless magic was hard! I'd never really got anywhere with it in my last life. I'd had a wand! I didn't need to be able to do magic wandlessly!

So this was risky. I knew I could set it on fire but that wasn't risk I was worried about. No the bit I was worried about was the bit where I didn't actually burn the thrones to sinders.

The good news, Elia was gobsmacked. I wondered if they used the term gobsmacked in Westeros, I guessed that they didn't but hoped I would be able to introduce it.

"You! You're causing this?" She sounded angry that wasn't the reaction.

"Yes" I replied, I was becoming weary now.

"You set the thrones of Dorne on fire?" Yep definitely angry.

"Yes." And I was definitely worried about how this was going.

"With your magic?" She spat out the word 'magic' as if it were poison.

"Yes." Oh I'd read this situation wrong for sure. Who knew that only psychopaths react well to you appearing to set their stuff on fire.

"You monster!" She cried. Her voice was shrill again and was worried that someone else would come in and discover my not-really-arson-but-what-quite-looked-like-arson. At least I was until she threw herself at me.

"No wait!" I cried out as she grappled with me. For such a frail and small girl she sure could wrestle. "It's not really fire, it doesn't burn them!"

I had to stop fighting to stay upright to concentrate on putting the flames out without relinquishing my control over what they damaged. And I did so successfully.

However it did give Elia the chance to knock me to the floor. Though she obviously hadn't expected me to fall at that particular moment so she fell with me.

"Hey! Calm down they're not damaged!" I said. Consciously aware that as she sat up she was straddling my waist and that we were both too young for this to mean anything.

"But they were on fire." She said simply.

"Well, yes but they weren't burnt!"

"But I saw the flames!"

"I created the flames but with the intent of not burning the thrones."

"Intent to what?" She seemed confused.

"A lot of magic is intent based, it will do as I want it to do as long I want it enough, or really if I ask it the right way."

She still looked lost.

"That's not really the point anyway. The point is I could help you."

"Help me? How could you help me?"

"With your illness, I might be able to make you better."

She snorted, not the most princessly thing to do. "Really?" She didn't sound convinced. "Lots of maesters hav-"

"I'm not a maester. I'm not limited by what is known and what isn't known." I broke in.

"You really think you can help?" She still seemed unconvinced.

"If you'll let me."

"And you're not going to set me on fire?"

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up. "Only if you want me to."

She didn't seem to find me funny, which I thought was unfair.

She sighed. "Do your worst." Obviously her hopes weren't very high.

"Just don't panic, okay. There's going to be a few bright lights but nothing will hurt you." The one thing I really didn't need was her freaking out.

Now I'd never really got far with healing magics. I'd implemented a mandatory level of basic healing training for aurors that I'd taken to lead by example but aside from that and a couple of spells you pick up as a parent but I felt confident I could do something. It also gave me a chance to see if the people here had some kind of magical core.

Thankfully basic healing included as diagnostic spell. I knew what I was aiming for but not having a wand could cause complications and difficulties.

I focused hard closing my eyes as I started visualising what I wanted to happen.

"Have you done it yet?" The sickly girls asked.

"No and shut up I need to concentrate."

The girl huffed but I ignored her.

Focusing and visualising, eyes closed, once more, I reached out with my magic towards Elia. I felt it as it moved through her, magic learning her mind and her body.

I heard her gasp and I knew it had worked.

The diagnostic spell I was using created a holographic copy of the patient, out lining any injury, infection or deformity in different bright colours.

Elia's holographic counterpart was lit up like a christmas tree.

She had an infection around her lungs, which were also too small for her body to get all the oxygen needed for the amount of growth. As a result of this many of her muscles all around her body weren't very well developed especially around her abdomen and womb that could later cause problems in childbirth.

The only plus point I managed to find out was that Elia did have a magical core! Only it was very weak, similar to that of a squib.

Of course I didn't have the knowledge to cure her completely but from my limited knowledge I concluded that most of her problems were caused by her deformity in her lungs and that I should do my best to improve that.

Clearing the infection in her lungs, I believe that the doctors in my old world called it pneumonia, was easy. It appeared to be some kind of fungal based infection so all I had to reach out focusing on a particular kind of particle with the intent. Or at least I hoped that was how this was going to go down. I did think about the possibility of me losing concentration and accidentally killing Elia but quickly pushed that from my mind: didn't need negativity right now.

Once again I felt my magic weaving it's way through Elia, this time it felt hostile and volatile but I kept control seeking out what I sought. And find it I did. Getting rid of the spores wasn't really difficult, my power and strength of will overcoming any kind of magical resistance that the spores may have had.

Now the infection was gone I began to think of ways I could improve her lungs. I could make them larger, making them the size they should be and therefore making them able to take in larger volumes of air with each breathe and therefore get more oxygen into her bloodstream. But that could cause problems with her other organs and I didn't want to cause more problems and have to put out fires.

Then it hit me: Elia had a magical core! It was weak but it could help slightly in sustaining a spell over a long period of time. So if I was right I could magically enhance Elia's lungs I could make it so that the amount of oxygen would multiply twofold, maybe even tenfold of what she breathed in. This had been done for professional athletes in my past life but it gave them an unfair advantage.

Once again my magic pulled through and as the dornish girl's small magical core accepted the spell Elia's lung problem was solved, though only time would tell how long her core could sustain it and to what amount the spell would help her.

I couldn't really do anything about her lack of muscular strength but that should happen naturally as she's able to move around more. Regardless, it would be very suspicious if Elia appeared tomorrow looking like she'd been physically training for years.

"Done." I said breaking the silence. "How long did it take?" I asked, I hadn't really been aware of how time had been passing around me.

"Don't know but it felt like an age." Elia sounded bored, though seven year olds would be bored after standing around for a while doing nothing.

"Do you feel any different?" I asked.

"Breathing feels easier but that's it really."

"Good."

"Good?"

"That's all I tried to change."

"That's all?"

"Well everything else is kind of stemmed from your weak lungs."

Elia stopped talking as if taking it all in.

"How do you know all this?" Oh no. "You're, what? Six name days old?"

"Five."

"Five! You shouldn't know this!" This was getting bad now. "Who are you?"

Well the rest of my magic I'd called on, why wouldn't this?

"I'm sorry Elia." I said just before I plunged into her mind.

So one more note.
This chapter wasn't really planned, Harry and Elia's meeting was meant to be much shorter but it kind of grabbed me and I ran with it and ended up going into more detail than I ever thought I would and researching about defects that can occur when a baby is born prematurely as it's said as Elia did. Of course it never actually says what Elia suffered from so please don't crucify me for making some stuff up.
Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will hopefully keep more chapters coming.
Please leave any feedback you want to give me in the reviews or my inbox.
An Average White Writer