Lightning crashed hard in the skies above four Privet Drive, with heavy rain beating down upon the house's rooftop. Inside, you could hear the loud roaring of a telly, as the residents had just finished dinner and were now sitting in front of the telly to watch the evening news. If you looked through the window, you would see the perfect little family, unless you looked closer. Not that anyone did.
There was a gaunt woman with a drawn face, a small chubby child stuffing his face with pudding, and a large whale of a man sitting down on a couch. However, back in the kitchen, was a very thin child struggling to carry the heavy plates and a meat platter back to the sink to do the dishes. They turned out to be too heavy and this resulted in the little girl dropping one of the dishes. It slipped right from her fingers as she struggled to set them down in the sink.
A loud shattering sound pierced the quiet noise that ran throughout the house, and moments later, the telly turned off and heavy thudding stormed toward the kitchen where the clatter had come from.
"FREAK! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" The large man's voice thundered as he stormed into the kitchen to find the girl frozen in terror, broken shards of a ceramic plate still clutched in her shaking hands.
"HOW DARE YOU BREAK ONE OF OUR GOOD PLATES, YOU UNGRATEFUL WHELP!"
He reared back his hand and slapped the small child hard enough to whip her head to the side. In the other room, the woman and boy didn't even move, very much all too well-used to his heavy hands and harsh mannerisms. The girl's head whipped to the side from the force, an immediate bruise forming as the child started to cry.
Around them, the dishes on the counter and in the cabinets began to rattle ominously.
"Uncle I-"
He cut the girl off, grabbing her arm and hauling her up by it, dragging her to the back door as she let out a loud scream from the sharp jolt of pain.
"GET OUT AND STAY OUT, YOU FREAKISH GIRL!"
He shoved her violently into the backyard, where she landed painfully back on her arm, in the pouring rain. She started sobbing harder.
"Please God, please, just take me somewhere safe?" She kept repeating frantically.
Around her, the streetlights dimmed and lightning stuck as the wind picked up. It was as if the storm that surrounded her was reacting to her emotions and was drawing her in.
Suddenly it was as if she was being squeezed through a tube, pulling at her navel. She squeezed her eyes shut in fear.
Abruptly, the howling wind stopped, the pulling stopped. Everything was calm for a split second before the roaring sound of people talking caught up to her. She was somewhere else entirely, no longer in the backyard of Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
The little girl cried harder, terrified out of her mind at the new surroundings. She had no clue where she was or how she had even gotten there. The girl was crying so hard she didn't notice where she was wandering until she bumped into an older woman who was very pretty.
Cassiopeia Black was walking out of the apothecary in Diagon Alley, counting her galleons to make sure the merchant did not cheat her out of her money, when she walked into the terrified child.
She studied the crying girl closely. She had messy pitch black ringlet hair and striking green eyes, avada kedavra green to be exact.
No, it couldn't be. She peered closer, almost holding her breath as she glanced at the forehead of the child; and sure enough, there was the lightning bolt scar. This small, terrified child was her late sister's granddaughter. This was little Azalea Potter.
"Would you like to come with me? I can get that dirt off of you and heal your face up in a pinch!"
"Heal? But how? Like an ice pack? I saw Uncle put it on Dudley's knee once."
"Silly child, with magic, of course."
"Magic? Aunt and Uncle told me magic doesn't exist."
"Really? Then how could I do this?"
Cassiopeia waved her wand and a large white glowing heron shot out circling the child. It spread its wings, almost as if it was caressing her injury. It preened at her hair and then dissipated, seeing that there was no message to be sent.
Azalea gazed in wonder, for the first time realizing that her Aunt and Uncle had been lying to her. Could all the freaky things she had done been magic? Was she magical like this pretty lady?
"Ma-Magic is real?" she stammered out? "Can I do magic too?"
"Yes, my child, magic is real. Would you like to come home with me where it's warm and safe? And nothing like this will ever happen to you again?" Cassiopeia gestured to her cheek gently.
"Yes ma'am." Azalea said quietly but eagerly.
Cassiopeia took Azalea by the hand and led her to the apparition point.
"Okay, dear child, hold onto my hand tightly and do not let go. You're going to feel a tight squeezing sensation in your navel, and you might get sick, but don't worry, you'll be okay."