DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR HOUSE OF THE DRAGON
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|126 AC|
Somewhere outside, a dragon roared.
Harry looked up from his book and shivered. His room was snug and warm, but there was something about a roaring dragon that always reminded him that this wasn't his world. When the dragon roared again, he shut the heavy, leather-bound cover of the book he was reading—a hundred-year-old discourse on the History of the Rhoynish Wars about Nymeria. The author, Beldecar, believed the tale of the warrior queen, leading the Rhoynar across the Narrow Sea on ten thousand ships, was inflated, perhaps by tenfold.
Harry covered a yawn with the back of his hand. His reading lamp was flickering, its oil all but gone. He had been at it all day, but with the torrents of rain pouring down the high castle walls of King's Landing, there wasn't much else to do. The raindrops sounded like pebbles beating against the windows and outside the pane-glass, in the sky above Blackwater Bay, he could see storm clouds flickering with silent lightning.
"Knock, knock! May I come in?" A voice rang from just outside the door.
"You're the princess! I don't think you have to ask!" Harry called back.
Rhaenyra stepped into the room.
"Princess' don't have to ask, but mothers do," she said, smiling at Harry as she sat on the edge of his bed.
Her expression softened as she reached up and touched his hair. She always did that, and Harry knew why. He was the only one of his brothers who looked anything like a Targaryen. Unlike his brothers, Jacaerys and Lucerys, who had brown hair and eyes that made many at court suspect that Ser Harwin Strong, his mother's sworn shield was their father.
Stuck in the body of a newborn baby had been…well, mortifying was putting it lightly. Even though he knew how to walk, talk, and even use the bathroom, his baby muscles and bones weren't developed enough. All he could do was cry and soil himself.
It was embarrassing!
But that embarrassment was worth it in his mind. No one hid the truth from babies. Harry had heard wet nurses, maids, guards, and even his own mother and father arguing.
The things he learned in the days and weeks after his birth had changed his new life before it even really began.
Rhaenyra adjusted his blanket. "Are you warm enough?" she asked. "I can have more blankets brought for you?"
Harry smiled. "I'm fine."
Rhaenyra leaned over and pressed a warm kiss on his forehead. "Good night, sweet prince," she said moving off the bed and taking his oil lamp with her. She knew he would stay up all night reading if she didn't.
The moment the door closed the door behind her, Harry heard the Kingsguard move to block the door again. He laid in bed for hours, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the keep was asleep yet.
Until they were, he didn't want to risk sneaking down to the Dragon Pit.
When the moon was past its highest point, Harry slipped out of bed. Once his feet were on the ground, he took a step back from his bed.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he whispered and his bed floated into the air revealing a hidden staircase underneath.
Sitting at the top of the staircase was a small chest. Harry opened the chest and pulled the Cloak out. He let the material flow over his hands, smoother than silk, light as air.
In the chest, under where the cloak had been sitting was the Elder Wand. Above him, the bed slowly floated back down until it was back in place and Harry was trapped in the dark.
He grabbed the wand, whispered, "Lumos!" and a tiny light appeared at the end of it, just enough to light the staircase.
Harry wrapped the Cloak around himself and looked down at his legs, he saw only light and shadows.
Suddenly, he felt wide awake. The whole of the Red Keep was open to him with his Cloak. Excitement flooded through him as he stood there in the dark and silence. Most people didn't even know about the tunnels, but he had a keen talent for locating and opening the false walls. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and no one would ever know.
Harry slipped down the hidden staircase beneath his bed, the soft glow at the end of his wand guiding him through the secret passage beneath the Red Keep. The tunnel was narrow, cramped, lined with cobwebs, and made of aging stone, giving off a musty scent.
It was a straightforward route that led him deeper into the bowels of the Red Keep. He moved quickly and quietly through the underbelly of the castle, careful to avoid any noise that might echo up through the castle where everything was quiet except for the occasional distant sound of guards talking or the clattering of armor as they walked.
After several turns, he found the exit—a small door hidden under a flower bed in a seldom-used courtyard outside the castle. Crawling out of the ground like a zombie, Harry quickly adjusted his cloak and snuck out into the streets of King's Landing.
He stuck to the less traveled paths, avoiding the main roads and the small folk. They couldn't see them, but he didn't want to risk anyone accidentally bumping into him. The city was quieter at this hour, but not entirely asleep. He could still hear the distant sounds of laughter and music from taverns mingling with the occasional shout or scream echoing louder than usual.
As he passed by Flea Bottom, where the smells of stewed onion and baking bread battled with less savory odors, Harry wrinkled his nose under his cloak at the stench of piss and shit that seemed permanently stuck in the air.
He moved on, navigating through narrow lanes until he could see the looming silhouette of a huge domed castle at the crown of Rhaenys's Hill.
The Dragonpit.
Another reminder of how different this world was. The dragons in the wizarding world, like the Hungarian Horntail and the Ukrainian Ironbelly, were known wizard killers that were impossible to train or domesticate.
Inside, the vast dome of the Dragonpit loomed overhead, torches casting flickering shadows across the sandy floor. The air was thick with the scent and warmth of fire, a stark contrast to the crisp night outside.
Harry could hear the restless shuffling and occasional snorts of the younger dragons. He tread carefully through the long brick-lined tunnels. Some were asleep, their massive bodies rising and falling slowly, while others eyed him with faint interest.
Deep into the hillside, guarded by the human guards and the larger dragons, he found Hedwig's enclosure. Harry tapped the Elder Wand against the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and the door swung open. Harry stepped in and gave Hedwig a light pat as he sat on the edge of the hot rock she was using as a bed. The horse-sized dragon grumbled a complaint, but Harry knew secretly she appreciated the affection.
Hedwig may be a dragon, but she had been an his friend first.
His first friend.
Harry tapped his wand against the stone floor, murmuring, "Revelio!" A section of the rock shifted, revealing a small concealed compartment.
Inside, lay a large, shiny silver spoon, a small stack of handwritten magic books, and the Resurrection Stone. He ignored the last of the Deathly Hallows and the books in favor of the large silver spoon. He nicked from the kitchen years ago after the first time he snuck into the Dragonpit
Harry held up the spoon and stared at his reflection in the wand light. His silver-gold hair and purple eyes slowly faded away until it was his brother Jacareys face he saw staring back at him.
It had felt strange at first; feeling so much love and affection for a woman who should've been playing second fiddle to Lily, but Harry hadn't really known his mother half as well as he knew his mom. He would never forget Lily's sacrifice for him or her protection, but when he thought of his mom, he saw silver hair, not red.
Rhaenyra was the one who tucked him in at night. Who cried when he called her mom for the first time. Who held out her arms to catch him when he toddled around the room relearning how to walk. Who kissed the bruises and cuts he got in the training yard.
Everything that Lily never got the chance to do.
This is the least I can do for her, Harry thought as he changed his brown back to silver-gold and his eyes became purple again. He didn't know why he had been born a Metamorphmagus. Maybe it had something to do with the magic in this world reacting or strengthening his magic? Maybe it was a gift from Death? Or maybe he was always supposed to be a Metamorphmagus but because Voldemort accidentally made him a Horcrux the ability never manifested?
Whatever the reason for it, he was grateful.
Harry put the spoon back in its hiding spot. His ability was his family's first line of defense.
Rhaenyra wasn't perfect. She had made mistakes. A lot of mistakes…but she was still his mother.
Jacaerys and Lucerys were still his brothers.
He had to protect them.
Harry grabbed the books he'd spent years writing. He had done his best to write down everything he remembered from his time at Hogwarts—the spells, curses, charms…etc. Then come down here to keep his skills sharp.
This was the only place he felt safe practicing his magic. He knew he wouldn't be interrupted or accidentally caught.
Not here, not surrounded by dragons.
Harry is now in Westeros!
He will stay there for a few more chapters (probably about three more) that will cover the episodes in the show up until Aemond claims Vahgar!
After that, it is off to Essos until 132 AC when the Dance begins!
Why you ask? That will be explained! As will Harry hiding his magic instead of showing it off!
SwirlingChaos68: Nope! Harry is still a bastard like his brothers, he can just hide it because of his magic!
Thanks for reading!