So this is my new story… The first chapter is a little shorter than I would have liked but hopefully the rest will be much longer. I just kind of needed to set up what was going on in the story. I am also looking for a beta. So if you know one willing to take on another story or you are one, feel free to let me know in a PM or review. Thank you so much! So... hope you like it! Reviews would be appreciated!

"Azalea!"

Azalea winced against the high-pitched scream that assaulted her eardrums. For the moment, she ignored the call, more focused on making sure she bandaged up her brother's scraped knee correctly. As gentle as she could, Azalea wrapped the bandage around his knee. Once she was done, the ginger-haired girl kissed the bandage then looked up at her brother. He was sitting on the edge of the thin mattress of their small bed, his eyes red and puffy from crying. He was still sniffling, so she grabbed a tissue and gently wiped his face clean.

His large green eyes stared at her through his crooked black glasses and she gave him a soft smile. "Better?"

He sniffed again and nodded, lowering his eyes to his knee and poking his bandage. Azalea grabbed his hand and prevented him from touching it. "Don't touch, alright? It won't heal if you touch it."

"Azalea!" The voice screamed again, louder, sharper, angrier.

Her brother knew what this meant. He threw his arms around her neck and clung to his sister tightly. Azalea sighed and hugged him back, running her small hand through his hair in an attempt to soothe him. "I've got to go, Harry."

"Don't want you to." He mumbled against her neck. She could feel his tears, felt his body start to shake as he cried but he knew she had to go down there as much as she did.

"Come on." Azalea pulled back from the hug and kept her hands on his shoulders. As she was kneeling on the floor, she stared straight into his eyes. "I need you to stay here, alright? No matter what happens. Just like before." His sister brushed her hand across his cheek and smiled, putting on a brave face for him. "Alright?"

Harry sniffed but nodded. "Oky." He said quietly, in that way that only nine year olds can do.

"Thank you." She said softly and pressed a light kiss on his forehead before she stood up and walked to the door with as much calmness and bravery as she could muster. Azalea couldn't break down in front of her brother. She couldn't let him see her weakness. She was all he had-and she was determined to make sure nothing happened to him if she had anything to say about it.

As soon as the door was shut, Azalea waited on the outside until she heard the soft pitter patter of her brother's footsteps and heard the door click as he locked it. Taking a deep breath, the eleven year old girl allowed herself a small moment of weakness and bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Her eyes welled with tears and she swallowed hard, forcing them away. She could do this. She had to do this.

Azalea opened her eyes and balled her hands into fists but forced herself to walk calmly and silently down the stairs. She kept my green eyes lowered to the ground as she walked towards the kitchen where she knew her aunt would be waiting for her.

Lucky, or not, for her, she was right. Her Aunt Petunia was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at Azalea as she came through the doorway. "You're late." She snapped as the young red-head stood obediently in front of her and she smacked her cheek-hard. Azalea's eyes watered from the blow and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making any noises. "Get to work!" Aunt Petunia snapped, throwing a rag at her.

Without saying a word she nodded and started working on cleaning up the kitchen. The young girl struggled to reach the top of the counters, but managed to wipe them down until she could see her reflection, just like she was told. It was such a routine now; she could ignore the throbbing on her cheek from the slap as she focused on cleaning the kitchen. Once Azalea was done with the counters, she moved on and began scrubbing the floors with the sponge. She impatiently brushed a lock of her ginger hair from her face as she scrubbed.

Bitter thoughts formed in her mind, not for the first time. Why her Aunt and Uncle treated her like this was beyond her comprehension. She knew they had always favored their son over them, and she had accepted it, but she still got angry from time to time over her treatment. Harry didn't know any different- he didn't know the love you could get from parents like Azalea knew. Azalea remembered some from when her parents were alive-before they died in the crash. Mostly just the love and happiness. Since Harry didn't know that love, Azalea made it her goal to make sure Harry was loved by her and that nothing would ever keep them apart.

"Hey, Freak!" Azalea was jolted out of her thoughts from the yell directed at her. The red-headed young girl was almost done cleaning the kitchen now- She must have zoned out again; she did that very often when she was doing mind-numbingly boring tasks. She found herself working on cleaning the oven when she heard her annoying cousin yell the name the Dursleys always called her.

Azalea ignored him and continued cleaning. It wasn't that hard to ignore the prat, and usually he left her alone when she was cleaning.

Then she felt something kick the back of her leg, throwing her feet out from under her and making her fall on the ground. She gritted her teeth and started to get back up, glaring at Dudley, her overweight, ugly cousin who has as many chins as she have fingers. Once she is back on her feet, he shoves the young Potter back against the stove and she gritted her teeth again from crying out as the hard metal slams into her thin body.

"That all you got, Fatty?" Azalea spat at him and watched as his face went from pink to red to purple as his eyes lit up in anger. "Don't call me that, you Freak!" he yelled and tears sprung to his eyes. She cringed, immediately regretting her words, knowing what was coming next.

The next few hours were a blur. Dudley was screaming and wailing a temper tantrum that rivaled any he had ever done before. Thankfully for Azalea, Uncle Vernon wasn't at the house (she refused to call this place home. It wasn't home and never would be home) and Aunt Petunia got to dish out the punishment. She smacked her over the head with a frying pan but Azalea managed to duck mostly out of the way so the blow wasn't as hard as it could have been. Still, Azalea felt herself swell with pride that she managed not to pass out or cry from the throbbing agony that was now overtaking the back of her head.

"Get out of my sight!" Petunia screamed, her eyes furious for upsetting her precious little Duddykins. The red-headed Potter quickly made her way back upstairs, eager to get away from Aunt Petunia's screaming, which was making her head pound even harder. It felt like there were hundreds of little elves with jackhammers trying to break her skull from the inside out.

Azalea was relieved to get back to her room as she placed her hand on the door handle. She closed her eyes and concentrated, allowing the beautiful rush of energy flow through her and make the door unlock. Quickly she walked in and did the same thing, only to make sure the door stayed lock. She wasn't sure how she was able to do it. All Azalea knew was it was one more thing that her aunt and uncle absolutely despised about her.

Harry stood next to the window, staring outside with a wistful look on his face. He turned to his sister when she walked in and his expression changed from wistfulness to fear and concern and it brought tears to her eyes. She walked in and wordlessly scooped Harry into a tight hug and buried her face in his thick, messy black hair.

Azalea doesn't cry, she never cried when Harry was awake, but she did allow herself to relish in the knowledge that someone did love her, care about her, needs her in their life. Even if it is only one person-even if it is only Harry- it is still better than thinking she was all alone in this dark, cold, unforgiving world. With her parents dead, Harry was the only thing she had left. They were inseparable.

"Zela?" Harry asked softly. His voice was trembling. His entire body was trembling. Azalea thought he was scared. "Zela, how bad?"

She pulled back from the hug and pressed a soft kiss onto Harry's forehead. "Not too bad, my little soldier. Not as bad as it could have been."

Harry gestured for his sister to hold up her fingers, which is how she told him how bad it hurt. She hesitated, not wanting to scare him any further, but they made promises a long time ago to each other to never lie, at least when it came to this. She sighed and held up four fingers.

Harry looked like he was going to cry and before Azalea could say anything, he started to tug her to the small, dingy mattress in the corner of their room that was considered their bed. The room itself wasn't very big in the first place. There was a window, an adjoining bathroom, and altogether it was still extremely small.

The Potter girl didn't argue with him and allowed her brother to guide her to the mattress and she laid down on it heavily, closing her eyes to try and block out the bang bang bang in her head. Azalea didn't hear him, but a minute or so later she heard a rustle behind her and felt a cold bag of ice settle gently on the back of her head.

She sighed in gratitude and opened her eyes, adjusting the bag of ice under her head as she did so. "Thank you," Azalea said softly to Harry. He smiled, one of those really rare smiles she never saw anymore. His sister opened her arms and without hesitation Harry climbed onto the mattress and into her arms.

She smiled softly and held him close to her, his head resting on her chest as she let her agony fade to a dull throb thanks to the ice. Within minutes, Harry was asleep and she was allowed some time to think.

Her brother didn't get to eat dinner, which means she needed to sneak in a big breakfast for him tomorrow. He was a growing boy and he needed a lot of food-more food than Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon let them have. Rage flooded through her and she gritted her teeth. Why did this have to happen to them? Why couldn't they have grown up with parents who loved them and fed them and cared for them in ways their Aunt and Uncle never have and never will? She found herself once again wishing desperately that their parents weren't dead. If she tried hard enough, Azalea Potter could remember her mother's twinkling green eyes and her father's mischievous smile and contagious laugh. It made her heart ache and without thinking, she clutched the necklace around her neck given to her by her father.

The anger was drained just as suddenly as it had over taken her. There was no point in wondering and what ifs, she thought dully. Nothing was going to change. This was their life- no matter how much it didn't feel like one.

What'd you think? Please let me know in the reviews any ideas, comments, or questions. I look at each and every review and I am planning on responding to each and every one. So, review! Thank you for reading my story!