HE WAS THE sun, she was the moon. He burned people, she gave light in the darkness. He was candescent, she was hidden. Beautifully tragic, two souls combined in a flurry of love, destruction, ashes, and magic.
[ wizarding world ]
[ during wizarding...
┌───────────────────┐ chapter one: stranger danger? word count: 4.04k └───────────────────┘
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AZALEA POTTER wasn't a girl of many words, not with her family, at least, unless someone disturbs her dear slumber.
So, to summarize, Azalea was a calm and quiet, meek girl of 13 ( almost 14 ) living in the Dursleys, who started her days by cursing at her piggish cousin under her breath.
This day was no different, except, for once, she'd adopted a façade where she wouldn't yell at her cousin : after all, as horrible as he was, it was his birthday.
Little Azzie who believed in buttering up to her teachers to get extra grades was now teen Azalea who still believed in buttering up to her teachers to get extra grades. She was still that bubbly girl who drew paintings and wrote letters for her teachers, just more mature, with much better drawings. She was still the best of her class ( and perhaps, her entire grade ) and still got A's in each subject.
However, she still cooked and cleaned for the Dursleys in the evenings after she came home from school, and the Vernon Dursley still used her as a tool to remove frustrations on.
Petunia had been sane enough to provide her with a room, considering the necessities of a girl for privacy and so as to not be a victim of the infamous Potter mood swings.
Dudley. . . he was the grey matter in between Azalea's black and white world, even though she didn't think grey matter existed. He was sometimes kind, gave her some food in the night after his parents were asleep, or bought her some extra paints when he knew she run out of them. When they were out in public, however, he portrayed their relation as if they were strangers.
Her only escape from the crazy household she was somehow related to, Calypso Aurum, Janus Black, and Calantha Scamander, were always there for her. They, obviously, never knew about the abuse she got at her house: be it of any kind.
Everyday in the Dursley household was the same for her: wake up, go to school, come back and do every household chore, do homework and sleep; lest it be a weekend, when Petunia had her do all the extra chores she couldn't do during the week.
