Dragon's Flower

Disclaimer: If I owned the characters in Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing this disclaimer.

Chapter One: The Beginning

"Excuse me, where can I find Professor Dumbledore?" a petite American girl asked.

The redheaded boy she'd asked looked at her strangely. "Um, his office is up those stairs and to the left. I don't know the current password, but just say all the candies you can think of until the gargoyle lets you in."

"Thank you." She smiled and left.

"No problem…" the boy muttered, staring after her.

When the girl arrived at the stone gargoyle, she began listing every wizarding sweet she knew. "Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum… oh, thank you," she said to the gargoyle. She couldn't think of any more wizarding candies, and she was afraid she'd have to start listing muggle sweets. She didn't know many of those.

The girl walked up the staircase and into a large room filled with books and magical gadgets. "Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore?" she called. She tentatively took a step forward, and almost ran into a large birdcage.

"Oh! Well, aren't you something!" she said in amazement. A scarlet phoenix was sitting in the cage, looking at her with his head cocked to one side.

"His name is Fawkes," a voice said behind her. She jumped, and hastily turned around.

"Oh, hello, Headmaster. I'm Azalea Xavier; I'm the new transfer student."

"Of course, Miss Xavier, welcome. Please sit down." Professor Dumbledore sat down at his desk and motioned with his wand. A comfortable-looking armchair appeared.

"Thank you," she said, and sat.

"It's very unusual to have a student come to Hogwarts in the middle of their sixth year. You are quite the exception, Miss Xavier. I suppose the first step is to have you sorted."

"Sorted?" she questioned, cocking her head to one side.

"Yes. Now where did I put that- ah, there it is." Dumbledore waved his wand and muttered, "Accio!" A dusty black hat flew down from the top of a tall bookcase and landed on his desk.

Azalea stared in amazement. "Erm, sir, what is that?"

"That is the Sorting Hat. The four founders created it. Go ahead, put it on." Hesitantly, she obeyed.

"Well, what have we here?" a voice asked, sounding amused.

"I'm a transfer student," Azalea whispered.

"There is no need to talk; the hat can hear your thoughts," she heard Dumbledore say. He sounded oddly distant for someone sitting just four feet away.

"Oh, a transfer student, how interesting. Do you know what the four houses are?"

Yes, she thought. Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. She had done her homework.

"Correct. Do you know what each house's founder valued? No? Helga Hufflepuff valued loyalty the most, and Rowena Ravenclaw placed brains above all else. Godric Gryffindor thought that bravery was most important, and Salazar Slytherin believed that a thirst for power was the one thing his students should have."

Oh, she thought, where do I belong? She didn't know if she had any of those types of traits.

"You are difficult to place. You are extremely loyal to your friends, very smart –you seem almost a match for Miss Granger- and no coward, either…."

Who? Azalea asked, confused.

"Never mind. I'm sure you'll meet her soon enough. Where do you want to be placed?"

I don't know, she answered honestly. It's interesting, though. The one place you haven't said I belong in is Slytherin.

"Oh, you noticed that, did you? You might find Slytherin interesting, and you could certainly do some good there, but…."

Well, then, put me there.

"Are you sure?" the hat asked her.

Why not?

"Many dark wizards come out of Slytherin. Unless you changed or caused someone else to, you'd have to spend all your time somewhere other than the common room and dormitory or be miserable."

Azalea considered that for a moment. Is there any other house where I'd fit in better?

"Unfortunately, no. In most of the houses, the 6th years have already formed cliques, and you probably wouldn't like Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff anyway. Gryffindor you might enjoy, but if you wish I'll put you in Slytherin."

It can't be any worse than my last school.

"SLYTHERIN!" Had Azalea been watching, she would have seen Dumbledore's eyebrows rise a good two inches. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had seen enough not to be surprised by much, but he had not expected this small, soft-spoken witch to be placed in a House known more for ambition and cunning than pleasant attitudes. He would have to keep a close eye on this one.

First Day:

Azalea looked around her new room and sighed. It could be worse. Maybe. She already had to share a room with Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkington. Oh, well. At least she was allowed to keep a potted plant in the room. The headmistress at her old school had absolutely hated anything green.

Azalea finished unpacking and sat down on her bed with a sigh. What on earth would Toby think? Might as well write him a letter, she thought. I'll send one to Perry and Zia, too. She took out a piece of paper and a pen and began writing.

Hey, Cousin-

How are you? I'm fine, by some standards. Life at Hogwarts thus far is interesting, that's for sure. I don't think I really belong in any of the houses, but Slytherin can't be any worse than either of the last two schools I went to. Nothing could be worse than

"What is that?"

Azalea jumped. "Oh, Millicent, hello. I didn't hear you come in."

"What is that?" Millicent repeated, pointing to Azalea's hand.

Azalea glanced down. "That? It's a pen, Millicent."

"And that?"

Azalea gave her a funny look. "That's paper."

"What are they for?"

"They're for writing. I'm writing a letter."

"Oh. Why don't you just use parchment and a quill?"

Azalea sighed. "Because I'm a weird American, that's why." It was going to be a long semester.

At dinner, Azalea ended up sitting next to a tall boy with white-blonde hair. He seemed to be a prefect, and also rather arrogant.

"Hello," she said, turning toward him. "I'm Azalea Xavier."

He looked at her. "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Pleased to meet you, Draco." A white lie never hurt anyone.

"Are you new?" he asked, not recognizing her.

"Yes, I am."

"Hm. Thought so."

She raised an eyebrow. "Obviously, otherwise you wouldn't have asked."

He glared. "Pureblood, mudblood, or mix?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Are you a pureblood, a mudblood, or a mix of the two?"

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I understand the terms." Her tone of voice made it quite clear that she understood perfectly.

"You know, are you from a completely wizarding family, a muggle family, or a part-wizard and part-muggle family? You understand those terms, don't you?" he drawled.

"Yes, you've made yourself quite clear. No, I have no muggle blood. Would it matter if I did?"

"Possibly not. Some families, like the Weasleys, are pureblood but still scum."

"I see. I take it you value your pureblood status."

"Of course." He raised an eyebrow. "I take it you don't?"

"I'd never really thought about it before, actually."

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Of course. Why would I have said that if I didn't mean it?"

This annoyed him. "That was an interjection; it was rhetorical."

"It was a question, and therefore got an answer," Azalea answered matter-of-factly.

Draco changed the subject. "What the hell are you doing in Slytherin?"

"Oh, I don't know. When I was little I always did dream of being a princess." She smiled and shrugged. Of course, she knew perfectly well why she was in Slytherin: There wasn't any better place for her. She didn't belong anywhere, so she might as well be in Slytherin. At least the hat had said she might be able to help. Azalea wasn't sure what he meant by that, but no matter. Nothing mattered.

"And you?" she inquired.

"What?" Draco asked, confused.

"And what are you doing in Slytherin?" She sounded as if she were talking about the weather: polite but disinterested.

"All the Malfoys were in Slytherin."

"Yes, but why are you in Slytherin? I didn't ask about your ancestors."

"I just told you! The Malfoys always are in Slytherin."

"No, no, no. Your family has nothing to do with it. Why are you in Slytherin?" she repeated for the third time.

Draco looked confused. "Because, it's where every Malfoy was."

"Draco, I don't think you understand my question. I'm not asking about your family history. I'm asking what traits you have that the Sorting Hat thought you belonged in Slytherin."

"Oh, well-" he stopped. "What?"

Azalea shook her head. "Never mind." She was beginning to wonder if stupidity was another trait that Salazar Slytherin valued: So far every Slytherin she'd met was rather idiotic. Pansy, Millicent, Draco- and Draco's friends Crabbe and Goyle didn't look any smarter. In fact, they looked less intelligent than Millicent, if that was possible. It was going to be a long term.

Author's Note: Please review! I'd love to hear any suggestions, or what I could do better. It will take me a long time in between updates, because I have a very busy life (it took a year from the time when I put it up to the time when I first updated it!), but please don't give up on me. I can never truly abandon a story.