Storm Bringer

by Azalea'sRevenge

Fem/Harry. Azalea Dorea Potter is thrown out of Privet Drive at the tender age of six, from the only home she's ever known. Only to be met with a kind woman Cassiopeia Black and in turn...this alters her entire destiny. She grows into her power, aware of those who would use her for their own gain. Raised as any pureblood Black witch would be. The world best watch out.

23. Lost In Thought

Chapter Twenty Three

Azalea fidgeted nervously in the chair, she had a very important meeting with the king of Goblins, Sharpbeak and she was in what she believed was his personal office. She shot a slightly panicked look towards her great uncle, Arcturus Black II. She most likely knew what this meeting could possibly be about, but she could be wrong. Her previous magical guardian Albus Dumbledore, had abused his rights and privileges as her legal guardian, and had stolen from her. Just how much, she didn't know for sure. Not yet, at least. That's what she was probably here for. She had gotten two summonses; one from the goblin assigned to be in charge of the Potter Vaults, and one directly from the goblin King himself. A meeting with Poisonclaw was to be expected, but one with Sharpbeak as well, was a somewhat surprise. A goblin knocked on the office door and opened it, coming in with a tray of refreshments.

"Heir Potter-Black-Rosier-Perevell, Lord Black, may I offer you something to drink while you wait? King Sharpbeak should be in shortly; he's just finishing up with some loose ends elsewhere." The goblin asked politely. Azalea nodded as an answer, before specifying that she did indeed want something to drink. Her throat was parched, dry with stress and anxiety.

"Yes please, I would like a glass of water." It was rare for Azalea to drink plain water, but at this time, she felt almost slightly nauseous, and the very idea of the borderline sickly sweet taste of pumpkin juice decidedly did not appeal to her. The goblin poured her a glass in a crystal cut cup, and Azalea took it from her with unsteady hands. She was starting to shake, as her body was not coping well with the adrenalin that was still pumping through her at the very thought of someone stealing from her. She was a child. She was helpless in a way. The more she thought about what he did to her, the more anxious and upset she got. Her magic was starting to react to her emotions and the cup in her hands started to rattle, as did all of the glass in the entire office, windows and all. Arcturus immediately settled a hand on her shoulder as a way to ground her and Azalea did her very best to focus on the feeling of his firm warm hand. She had been learning how to do deep breathing during her meditation that she practiced every morning, and ran herself through the steps she did every morning. A deep breath in, hold it for a few seconds, and a deep breath out. Rinse and repeat, in and out. Soon enough she felt herself start to relax again, as her rampant emotions settled down. It was just in time too, as there was a rapid succession of sharp knocks on the closed office door. The heavy wooden door opened and both Sharpbeak and Posionclaw entered the room before the goblin with the tray of refreshments quietly exited the office. Sharpbeak sat at the desk in front of them, with Poisonclaw sitting in the chair behind him to the right. Poisonclaw snapped his fingers and a thick tightly wound up roll of parchment appeared in his claw-like hands. He immediately handed it to Sharpbeak, who set it down on the mahogany desk. He also opened an unseen drawer from the desk and pulled out a stack of papers.

"Shall we begin?" He asked in a smooth but raspy voice that seemed to fit him. He was looking directly at Azalea, and not Arcturus. It seemed he wanted to speak directly to her. She rolled her shoulders back and sucked in a deep breath before speaking to the Goblin King.

"Yes please. I am assuming that this meeting was called to speak about the missing valuables from my Potter vaults?" She asked, suspecting that she was right.

"Indeed. The official audit of the entirety of the Potter vaults has been completed, and I have the results here with me in this scroll that Poisonclaw has handed to me. Shall we go over it together?" He asked, surprisingly gently to the child before him. Azalea looked towards her great uncle for reassurance, and he gave her a small nod, as if to say it's okay to go on. She turned back to Sharpbeak and nodded. "I would like to know what was stolen from me, please."

"There was a grand total of three hundred fifteen thousand, two hundred and fifty galleons stolen that we can account for. There were funds going directly into several different vaults here at Gringotts and one muggle bank account in Surrey, England. There were also a multitude of priceless family heirlooms and artifacts that have been removed from your vaults, without your consent. Here is the full list and details written on this parchment." He said, tapping his hand over the rolled up parchment and duplicating it into three, handing both of them a copy to look over.

Vault Eight, Perevelle Vault

One Invisibility Cloak, 63,250 Galleons, One Dementor's Cloth gifted by the King Dementor, One Dark Lords: Lord Potter Edition

Vault Twelve

Merlin's Personal Journals Volume One, Merlin's Personal Journals Volume Two, Merlin's Personal Journals Volume Three, Merlin's Personal Book of Charms Volume One

Vault One Hundred Nineteen

One Cassandra Trelawney's Scrying Bowl, Three vials Veela Hair gifted by the DeFleur's

Vault One Hundred Seventy Eight

One Potter Family Tapestry, One Sword of Gryffindor, One Godric Gryffindor's wand

Vault Two Hundred Thirty Four

Three unspecified Dark Magic Texts, worth approximately Three thousand two hundred galleons each, from the Gaunt line

Vault Five Hundred Seventeen

Fifty two thousand Galleons, hand bound copy of Poisons and their Uses gifted from Layton Longbottom to Illana Potter on her wedding day

Vault 632

History of The Dark first edition, unspecified rare potion ingredients

Vault 812

Carrow family book of Tourture methods

Vault 829

Seventy-two thousand Galleons given to Vernon and Petunia Dursley for the card of one Azalea Dorea Potter, One hundred forty-four thousand Galleons to the Weasley's for unspecified reasons, thirty-six thousand Galleons given to Arabella Figg for the spying and watch of one Azalea Dorea Potter

Blood rushed in her ears as she stared at the results blankly before a spark of anger lit in her eyes. How could someone do this to an orphan? How dare they deprive her of her family's things. It's all she had left of her parents; she didn't even have any proper memories. Everything... Her parents, her home, her life... it was being stolen. By he-who-should-not-be-named... by her own magical guardian... Azalea began to spiral, feeling absolutely lost for the first time since she was six, when she got kicked out of the Dursley's for breaking a dish. The logical side of her was trying to rationalize that she did have support. She had two brothers, a great aunt, and a great uncle. But even that wasn't soothing her tired soul. Arcturus could literally feel her magic; it was crackling in the air around them. He had seen all that was taken from her, but it was more than that, and he knew it. Albus Dumbledore had taken more than just money or physical items from her. He was trying to break her; Arcturus knew the tactic. He couldn't prove it yet, but his spies in the Headmaster's office were well at work, reporting his moves back to Arcturus right away. Albus Dumbledore wanted a broken shell of a child, and he would not succeed now. He pulled the shaking child into a tight embrace, completely ignoring that he was the Lord of the Black family, and he had a very particular image to uphold, even in the prying eyes of the offices of Gringotts bank. No, right now he was not Arcturus Black III, Lord of the Black clan. Right now, he was Grandpa Ari, and he would comfort his great-grandniece no matter what.

Azalea was shaking harder than a leaf in a thunderstorm, silent sobs wracking her small body. How dare he? How dare he do this to her! What had she ever done to him? She was quickly losing all of her carefully constructed control of herself. All of her meditation, all of her deep breathing exercises... Nothing was helping. At least not at first. She was so lost, so deep in her own mind and own little world, that she flinched at first at the arms that tightly wrapped around her, but soon all she could hear was her Grandpa Ari. He had wrapped her into the tightest hug that she had ever been in, and she truly needed it at that moment. She could smell his unique scent of fresh parchment, the special type of ink he always used, and wood smoke from sitting with her in front of the fireplace like he always did after dinner while she read. It was special and specific to him, no one else would ever smell like him, or ever be him. He was whispering into her staticey hair, that he was there, and he would always be there. That only time would ever take her away from her.

Arcturus wanted to sigh in relief as the crackling in the air of the office had started to die down. Azalea hadn't noticed as she was lost in her head, but wind had somehow kicked up in the room and the books on the shelves in the office around them had begun to shift and rattle about. Azalea was beginning to show glimpses of her true magical capabilities. As a witch or wizard grew, their magical core grew with them. They reached magical maturity around the age of sixteen, but from around age ten to age sixteen, their magic would grow exponentially, and would be prone to fluctuation and outbursts when their emotions were high. This was one of those times. It seems the soul bond wasn't the only thing maturing earlier than expedited. The strength of this magical outburst, and the fact that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened was something to take notice of. Arcturus made a mental note to talk to healer Gavina about Azalea's full magical potential.

"Shhh, it's okay Azalea. He can't hurt you. We were." He whispered into her hair. "Whatever it is that you're thinking... It will be okay. Cassiopeia and I will never let Albus Dumbledore harm you." He comforted the crying child in his arms. "H-he... He took everything..." Azalea sobbed out. "No... No sweet child. He can't take us..." Arcturus promised the girl in his arms. He was furious. Albus Dumbledore was going down for what he was still doing to this child. It went beyond her being his Heiress. She was an innocent child that for some godforsaken reason, Albus was hellbent on destroying her life from the very beginning. From hiding the Potter's to leaving her on the doorstep of an abusive family in the cold of a November night, literally right after she had witnessed her parents dying, rather violently too. And she did. She was aware, even if it was only subconsciously, of her parents' traumatic deaths. Arcturus has seen it in her mind, when he entered to extract memories before.

Flashback

"Daemon! Fetch me my pensive" Cassiopeia exclaimed. The house elf in question popped out and popped back with the stone basin that resided in a warded cabinet in Cassiopeia's personal study.

Arcturus looked at his baby sister with a raised eyebrow. What was so drastic as to need to use a pensive. It was a very personal item that was only necessary to use in certain conditions... What could ever warrant him to view her personal memories.

"Here is my pensive. View the three memories, and you will see for yourself. In the meantime, it's time for her first dose of afternoon time potions." She drew her wand and put it to her temple, extracting three different memories for him to view. The silvery wisps drifted from her wand point into the overflowing bowl. He walked over to where Daemon placed the pensive on the sturdy table, and bent to stick his face into the bowl full of silvery fluid. It was filled past the brim with wispy strands of memories that Cassiopeia had placed into the bowl for future viewing and keeping. The first memory was of Diagon Alley. This must have been the day Cassiopeia found Azalea. Arcturus observed quietly, watching as a scene played out around him with the ghost like people taking no notice of him; it was as if he wasn't even there. From this advantage point, he could walk around the scene playing out around him and study what was going on from different perspectives.

"That will be thirteen galleons, and twenty sickles." The shopkeeper explained to Cassiopeia. She was in the Apothecary; they had just gotten some rare plants in, and she must have wanted to get some right away. Arcturus remembered that she was experimenting with a potion that shielded the mind, and she was probably hoping to make a breakthrough. Cassiopeia handed over coins from her dragon hide satchel and the keeper counted them out as he deposited them into the cash register. Once he was finished, he took the neatly wrapped up parcels and handed them over. She took them and placed them into her ever expanding purse and said a polite goodbye before exiting the shop. The alley was alive with people, and faintly in the background of the noise, you could hear the clap of an echo of someone aperating into the alley way. To a muggle, it would mostly be the sound described to be rather like a backfiring car.

Cassiopeia was plotting her next move on where to go, he knew that thinking look she got, when something small, or rather, someone small collided with her. It was a child, who looked to be crying. He could hear her hiccuping sobs as he walked around the two of them to get a better look. Cassiopeia had wanted him to see this for some reason, so he might as well pay attention to the memory.

Cassiopeia peered down at the crying child in question and noted that they couldn't be more than three or four years old at most... Where were their parents? Surely they couldn't be alone. They must have run off... Wait one second... A little girl with dark curly hair and avada kedavra green eyes... There was only one known child with that combination, but she would be much older than this child here. It must be a coincidence... She looked even closer, scrutinizing the child's face for the distinctive scar on her forehead and confirmed that she was not seeing wrong. There, on her forehead was a lightning bolt scar, or rather, the Sowilo rune... This tiny child, who was the size of a three-year-old... It was the girl-who-lived... This was Azalea Dorea Potter, her older sister's grandchild and the savior of the wizarding world. But why was she alone; why was she CRYING... Where was her magical guardian... She had to do something... A second glance noted that the girl was covered in mud and dirt, soaking wet, and had a rather nasty bruise on her cheek and drying blood from cuts on the child's hands.

"Would you like to come with me? I can get that dirt off you and heal you up in a pinch." She immediately kicked herself at the suggestion. This child looked terrified, and furthermore, she had no clue who Cassiopeia was. Why would she go off with some stranger?

"Heal? But how? Like an ice pack? I saw Uncle put one on Dudley's knee once?" The girl asked curiously, her hiccup stuttered sobs slowing down a bit.

"Silly child. With magic of course." Cassiopeia said without a thought. Magic was a wonderful thing, it could fix most anything, skin, bones, and blood included.

"Magic? Aunt and Uncle told me magic doesn't exist." The girl replied, sounding even more frightened. Magic not existing? What an absurd idea. They were literally in an Alley hidden away from the muggle world with magic. Around them, patrons were milling about carrying parcels filled with potion ingredients, new robes, and other things.

"Really? Then how could I do this?" Cassiopeia replied, pulling out her wand and wordlessly casting a patronus, her patronus. 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. The child, Azalea, gazed in wonder as if she had never seen such a thing before. Surely the child knew magic existed. No one knew where the great Albus Dumbledore had hidden away the light of the wizarding world, but surely even there, she at least knew about her magical heritage; she just had to know about magic existing.

"Ma-Magic is real?" she stammered out? "Can I do magic too?" She asked quickly, sounding for the first time excited. This could not be possible. Azalea Potter didn't know about magic existing. How could he deny a witch her heritage? How could he deny the girl-who-lived... This was her grandniece and she didn't even know about having magic. She had to act quickly. Putting this together with the still darkening bruise on her face and the cuts on her small hands, together with her being quite literally the size of a three-year-old when she should be closer to six or seven... She had to act, and she had to act fast.

"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. The mere thought of abusing a child made her feel decidedly ill.

"Yes ma'am." Azalea said quiet but eagerly. How desperate did this child have to be, to leave with a literal stranger? Just what did Albus Dumbledore do? She took Azalea by the hand, wordlessly and wandlessly casting a minor cleansing and healing spell at the child's injured hands. It would heal the less deep of the gashes, but this girl would need to see a healer and soon. Not for the first time in her life, Cassiopeia Black was wishing she knew more about healing magic. She quietly wondered to herself just what she was getting herself into this time but if her intuition was correct, this girl was being abused by someone, and she needed to protect her. She was blood, and even before that... She was just a little child. She was unable to defend herself. The scene faded as the end of the memory played out, and he was pulled directly into the next one with little to no time to discern what was going to happen next. He studied the surroundings and saw that it was the Grand Hall of Black Manor, in the only aperation point in the Manor.

Azalea didn't look so good. In fact, she looked positively green, but he didn't blame her. Side along aperation was rather nasty. He much preferred portkey or just plain aperating by himself. It was why he went out as soon as possible after turning sixteen and went to get his aperating license from the ministry. Arcturus shook his head. He couldn't be lost in thought, the memory was still playing out around him; it waited for no one.

Oh, oh no. Little Azalea had gotten sick-up on herself, and made a mess of her already wet and dirty clothing. She looked to be terrified, and cowered away, like she was expecting to be hit. Arcturus had a bad taste in his mouth as he watched it happen. Someone was abusing his grandniece. Why else would a child expect to be hit from getting sick. Nothing else was logical. Not with the bruises, the cuts, the dirt... Something had happened to her, and he would figure it out. He watched as the memory progressed. Cassiopeia was frowning at Azalea.

"Oh sweet child I will never intentionally or not, cause or bring harm to you. You are forever safe with me here for as long as you want to stay." Azalea flinched at what his sister had said to her, as if physically struck. Cassiopeia pulled out her wand and waved it in the general direction of Azalea, wordlessly vanishing the throw up off the shaking child.

"Can I ask your name?" He heard Cassiopeia ask Azalea quietly. He almost heard what the child had replied, and when he finally did catch what she said, he almost, just almost, wished he hadn't.

"My name is F-Freak." The tiny Azalea stuttered out.

"Who says so, little one?" Cassiopeia said almost in a whisper. She must have been just as furious as he had felt right now. The girl, Azalea, his grandniece, didn't know her own name. She thought she was to be called Freak. What a disgusting thought.

"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia... It's what they call me, so it must be my name, right?" Little Azalea asked, sounding confused.

"No my dear child... No. Your name is Azalea Dorea Potter. In fact, you were named after my older sister, Dorea Black." Cassiopeia said gently.

"What?-" Azalea began to ask before her rather empty stomach made itself known.

"Would you like to come and sit with me in the parlor? I can get you some nice warm food to eat, and we can talk some more. Were you aware that I knew your parents? Lilly was such a nice young woman, very kind, and she always stopped by with the most delicious lemon bars." Cassiopeia said gently. She was concerned about when the child last had a proper meal.

"Wh-what? You knew my mum and dad?" Azalea stammered out.

"Yes, my dear child. Azalea, your father is James Potter. He is my older sister's would make you my grandniece." Cassiopeia explained patiently.

"What?" was all the small child could say. Poor little Azalea must have been so confused by this point. Arcturus's heart was breaking for the girl.

"You're really my family too?" He heard her ask after a minute.

"I promised I wouldn't lie, I swear on the Black family name." From Arcturus's advantage point, he watched the sparks of magic spin and swirl around them as Cassiopeia promised upon the Black family name. It was ancient magic at work there, something older than anything else he knew, even Merlin himself. He watched as Cassiopeia delicately made proper eye contact with the girl in question, and watched as she slipped into Azalea's mind.

The next scene had to be from Azalea's own mindscape. It was of little Azalea, she was so very little too... She was in a particularly ugly house. Everything was tidy... Too tidy. It looked as if it was a show home. A loud shattering sound could be heard throughout the house, and moments later, the telly turned off and heavy thudding steps stormed toward the kitchen where the clatter had come from.

"FREAK! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!" A large man boomed as he stormed into the kitchen to find the girl frozen in terror, broken shards of ceramic plate still clutched in her hand.

"HOW DARE YOU BREAK ONE OF OUR GOOD PLATES YOU UNGRATEFUL WHELP!" The man bellowed out, face turning purple in rage. He raised his hand up and backhanded the small child. From the other room, the woman and boy didn't even move, too 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-" Little Azalea began. 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 pain. Arcturus was horrified at what he was seeing.

"GET OUT AND STAY OUT YOU FREAKISH GIRL!" The whale of a man bellowed again. He threw her violently into the back yard where she landed in the pouring rain. She started sobbing harder. She began rocking back and forth, shaking horribly.

"Please God, Please, just take me somewhere safe?" She kept repeating hysterically.

This must have been the night that Azalea got thrown out of her home, if you could even call it that. Arcturus tried with all his might to glean more information about the residence, like an address, but he was not very fruitful in his endeavor. It was dark out, too dark to see properly, and she never went near the front yard, choosing to stay curled up on the sodden grass. Arcturus felt the scene shift as another one of Azalea's memories rose to the surface.

Little Azalea was in the backyard, again, but this time it was daylight. She was covered in soil and mulch as she was weeding the flower gardens that lined the house and fences. She was hard at work, with her tongue stuck out to the side. She was concentrating on discerning which was a weed and which was a budding flower. She didn't have gloves on and her hands were very sore, covered in small blisters along her fingers. She reached to pull up what she thought it was another weed when her Aunt Petunia screeched from the door that led into the backyard from the house.

"USELESS FREAK! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE! VERNON!" She shrieked, calling for her husband.

"What is it, Pet? What did the waste of space girl do this time?" He asked as heavy thudding steps could be heard from inside the house, all the way from the backyard. "SHE DESTROYED ONE OF MY PRECIOUS FLOWERS THAT YOU HAD PLANTED FOR MY BIRTHDAY! SHE DID IT ON PURPOSE TOO, I JUST KNOW IT!" Petunia said hysterically, a thin boney finger pointed at the unsuspecting four-year-old girl like a dagger. Azalea was frozen in horror. Her Aunt Petunia was WRONG. It was a true accident; she could hardly tell what was a flower and what was a springtime weed poking up from the flowerbed. Azalea loved flowers. She liked gardening, even if she was forced to do it. Vernon emerged from the door behind his wife, with a leather belt in hand. Azalea flinched, dropping the now dislodged plant onto the ground below her. The memory faded as he just made it to Azalea, ending before Arcturus could witness what the whale of a man had done to his great-grandniece. Arcturus felt decidedly sick.

The next memory wasn't much different than the last. Azalea was outside in the blistering hot heat, in an oversized t-shirt, ripped and stained to the high heavens. This time she was lugging a very heavy watering can full of water from the faucet in the backyard. She was to water all of the plants that were wilted from the boiling hot sun bearing down on Surrey. They were on day twelve of an impossibly parching heatwave. It was the beginning of July, and Azalea knew it would only get worse. She was almost to the last plant she had to water when her small hands opened, and the jug slipped from her sore fingers. It hit the sidewalk in a loud clatter, spilling the contents and cracking the weather-worn plastic up the side, rendering it no longer useful. Azalea began to panic. She NEEDED to water the flowers, and she had no other way to get water from the backyard. She was so busy trying to figure out what to do, at the tender age of four, that she failed to notice her paunchy loaf of an Uncle appeared from nowhere.

"LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE YOU HORRID FREAK OF A GIRL. YOU DESTROYED MY PRIZED WATERING CAN! MARGE WAS RIGHT, I SHOULD HAVE DROWNED YOU LIKE A PUP WHEN YOU WERE LEFT ON OUR DOORSTEP THAT AWFUL. YOU HAVE BEEN NOTHING BUT A BURDEN TO OUR PERFECT LITTLE FAMILY FROM THE VERY BEGINNING." He bellowed out at the undersized four-year-old girl, lumbering over to where she was frozen in terror. He raised his hand and swung at the child, his meaty hand colliding with her face hard enough to snap her head to the side. The memory started to flicker for a second time and the scene changed yet again. This one was also straight out of Azalea's mind it seemed.

This time Azalea was a little bigger, by at most a few centimeters. She was in the unnaturally neat kitchen, on a step stool in front of a gas lit stove. She had a heavy cast iron frying pan on the stove top, full of sizzling hot bacon. She had three pans in total on the heat. One full of thick slabs of bacon, one with blood sausages, and one full of frying eggs. It was hard for her to manage everything, but she didn't have a choice. She hadn't eaten proper food in more days than she could count at the tender age of five. She was so busy trying to not burn the eggs that she didn't notice the bacon becoming a bit too crispy, until it was too late. She smelled smoke and looked over to see the bacon burning to a crisp. She had ruined breakfast for her Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Cousin Dudley. She wanted to cry but knew the outcome would be worse if she did. Her Aunt must have noticed she burned the bacon as well, seeing as she stalked into the kitchen and stomped up to Azalea.

"YOU LITTLE ABOMINATION! TODAY IS DUDLEY'S FIRST DAY OF KINDERGARTEN AND HE NEEDS TO EAT A GOOD BREAKFAST! LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, YOU'VE RUINED IT" Petunia screamed at the shaking child. Before Azalea even knew what was happening, her aunt had picked up the heavy iron frying pan still full of burnt bacon and hot grease and flung it at Azalea's head. Not only did Azalea get hit in the head with a heavy cast iron pan hard enough to daze her, but she was now covered in her face and arms with burns from the hot bacon drippings. Everywhere burned and she couldn't escape the pain. She let out a cry and curled up on the floor, begging, wishing for it to all stop. Suddenly a white glow surrounded her and all of the burns were gone, leaving nothing but faint pink splotches where they were blistering before. Both her and her Aunt froze at what just happened.

"YOU ABSOLUTE MONSTER! GET INTO THE CUPBOARD NOW!" Her aunt all but screamed, with a foreign emotion thick in her voice. If poor little Azalea didn't know better, she would think her aunt was afraid of her or something like that. Azalea didn't know what had happened but was thankful that she was no longer in burning pain. She scurried away from the stove, still on and cooking the eggs and sausage, and she all but ran to the door that was under the stairs. Petunia was one step ahead of her though, and grabbed her by her previously burned arm and threw her into the small space. Being locked in the little room was better than getting beat again, even if she knew she would be going hungry for another few days at the very least.

Arcturus was horrified. He didn't know what to do first... He could track the muggles down but he didn't know an exact address. He only saw a number four on the front of the cookie cutter brown brick front house. He would need to find at least a street name before he could do anything. The next flash of memory played out. Azalea was in the backyard again, this time trying her hardest to climb up a tree. It was fall and the branches were nearly bare of leaves, but that wasn't the reason she was climbing. She was running for her life, both from her blubber of a cousin Dudley, and her Aunt Marge's vicious bulldogs. They were awful evil creatures. Aunt Marge let them do as they please, and even encouraged them to attack the girl in question. Azalea was trying her best to climb up the short tree, hoping to have some form of escape away from being bitten and mauled by the slobbering snarling dogs.

"Haha Freak! The dogs are going to eat you!" Dudley taunted her, watching joyfully as his younger cousin cried out in terror as one of the dogs succeeded in catching her foot, ripping off one of her worn out trainers. The dog was satisfied that it had caught something at the very least and started to destroy her left shoe. Azalea wanted to cry, but she wouldn't, she couldn't, in front of her morbidly obese cousin. He was the size of a small whale, and he was only six years old. While Azalea was fed once every five or six days, he was fed over five times a day. It was no wonder he couldn't always catch her; he was almost as fat comparatively to his father Vernon and aunt Marge. He watched gleefully for a while until he got bored of Azalea hunting and left to go inside, probably to find a sweet and sit in front of the telly. It was only her and the dogs left, all four of them with their attention on her once again. She was stuck in the tree in the cold for hours, until Marge called the dogs in to eat. Azalea didn't dare come down, not until it was nearly pitch dark and there was no movement outside. She slowly inched her way down the rough bark, having it scratch into her hands as she did so. She was nearly to the back door when she saw a set of glowing green eyes that belonged to a sleek silver and brown tabby cat that was seemingly watching her every move. For some reason, Azalea felt safe with the wild cat, and decided instead of going inside, to try and pet the cat.

She inched her way closer to the feline, but the cat didn't even budge an inch. This wasn't like the other cats that Mrs. Figg bred and sold. She was nearly to the cat, it's silky fur brushing her very fingertips when the back door swung open and her Aunt screeched at her to come inside at once. Azalea flinched and said "Yes Aunt Petunia." and hurried away from the beautiful cat and went directly to her cupboard. She knew she wouldn't be getting food that night and didn't even try to ask for any, even as she felt her stomach rumble and clench in pain at being empty for far too long. She would try tomorrow to sneak an apple from the bowl of untouched fruit on the table in the kitchen the next day. Dudley would be in school and her Uncle Vernon would be at work, so it would be easier for her to obtain the food. She hurried into the cupboard and squashed down to sit on the old broken cot that was jammed into the way too small space that was her existence.

"No food for you, useless freak and you better find and fix that trainer the dog took from you; I won't be replacing it." Petunia said, nose stuck up in the air as if she smelled something rotten. Azalea steeled herself for another day of escaping the feral pack of dogs that Aunt Marge called her pets. Aunt Petunia shoved the door shut, locking it from the outside, locking Azalea into her room, so she couldn't leave or escape. Arcturus could barely stand himself, but he knew these were just memories, and he couldn't change the past.

The next memory made him feel mentally and physically ill. It was brief, but it was enough for Arcturus to decipher what it was about. It was of little toddler Azalea, back in Godric's hollow. She must have been just over a year old in this memory. James and Lily were in the living room, with Azalea sitting quietly in a small play pen, off to the side when the front door blasted off its hinges and someone loomed in the doorway. James hesitated for a split second before making up his mind.

"Lily! Take Azalea and run!" He shouted and bolted for the front door, to confront whatever death eater had discovered their hidden location. Lily ran over to the play crib and grabbed Azalea up off the floor before making a mad dash to the stairs. Behind her, a flash of green and a sudden thud sounded off behind her, from where her beloved husband had run off to protect them. Lily knew. They had been found. She let out a pained sob and continued to run. She made it to the nursery door and set Azalea down in her crib, where she would be safe. It was warded to let no one but herself and James remove the child as long as they lived, and Lily knew that James was now dead. That Azalea's father was dead. She was next. She just had set the door shut when steps were heard as someone ran up the staircase not moments after her. She turned to Azalea and whispered, "You are very loved my little Azalea; Papa and Mama love you so much." She said, crying freely at this point. Lily knew she only had seconds left; it was a mother's intuition.

The nursery door blasted open with a strong bombarda, and a gaunt man with snake-like features rushed in. "Give me the girl..." The man hissed out, hands out to reach for Azalea, his wand at the ready to-do Merlin knows what with the child. She refused. "No! I won't give her to you!" Lily screamed out, looking around rapidly for another escape route, knowing that she was trapped. The house had anti-aperating wards, and anti-portkey wards, so she had no other way of getting away from Voldemort. "Please take me!" She begged, sobbing. This was it. This was the end of the road. "Please! Kill me instead!" She begged again. She would do anything to save her daughter. "Kill me and leave Azal-" Was all she got out before Voldemort raised his yew wand and cast his second favorite unforgivable spell to use. A bright green flash of light lit up the room, and Lily collapsed onto the ground, dead. Voldemort turned from the figure crumpled on the floor, to the now crying child who was all alone. "I have got you at lasssst." He hissed out, tongue flickering much like the snake he was. He raised his wand for a final time that night and called out, "Avada Kedavra!" But then the unthinkable happened. The bright green of the killing curse initially hit little Azalea directly in the forehead, but it rebounded just as quickly, striking the very man who cast it down, dead. Voldemort was nothing but ashes on the ground. What was unseen was the very soul of Voldemort, leaving the pile and sticking to the closest vessel nearest to his remains. The fracture of the soul stuck to little Azalea, and left nothing behind but the infamous lightning bolt scar that resided on her forehead.

Arcturus was speechless. Not only did Azalea witness her mother and father being brutally murdered by Voldemort himself, but Azalea had a fragment of Voldemort's very soul in her. He didn't even know what to think about that; it seemed he didn't have time to process that either, and wouldn't until the very end. It seemed that Cassiopeia had seen enough as well, as he was pulled out of Azalea's mind and into another one of Cassiopeia's memories that was deposited into the pensive he was visiting.

Cassiopeia was in the Red Room with Azalea, empty plates sitting on a silver tray. They must have just finished eating as a house elf, Zilly, he thought, popped into the room and removed the soiled dishes and left over food. Cassiopeia snapped her fingers and called out for Daemon, her own personal house elf that she had to attend to her needs. All Black's had a house elf assigned to them, to take care of their whims and needs.

"Daemon!" She called out expectantly. He popped into questions and greeted the two of them.

"Yes Lady Cassiopeia?" He asked the two of them.

"Call for Healer Gavina; tell her to come to me without delay." Cassiopeia instructed at once.

"Yes my lady, it will be done." He said and popped away, presumably to do as she asked.

"W-who's that? What's a healer?" He heard Azalea ask curiously. She seems to be calmer; there must have been a calming draught in her juice. That was definitely something his sister would do.

"A healer is sort of like a wizard doctor, but instead of things like medicines and casts, they use magic things like spells and potions to cure the body. They can put a fix to almost anything, except death." Cassiopeia smiled at the question. The girl seemed to not be as afraid of her as she initially was. At that moment, the small fire in the fireplace seemed to roar into life, burning a deep emerald green color unlike anything Azalea had ever seen before. Oddly enough, a head seemed to be sticking out of the flames. Azalea rubbed at her eyes to make sure she was seeing correctly. There was a head, a human head at that.

"Hello Lady Black, what do I owe the honor of the summons?" The head asked. This was all so strange to Azalea and if she didn't now know that magic was real, little Azalea would have thought she had finally gone insane.

"Before you hear anything more, I will need you to agree to a privacy charm being placed upon you before you step through the fire. For patient confidentiality purposes, of course." Cassiopeia said firmly. She wouldn't budge on the matter of a child's safety.

"Of course, it goes with being a Healer. I, Gavina McClain hereby swear on my magic to keep everything I hear, see, or say at Black Manor a secret, so mote it be." Magic flashed around the room as the contract was signed by word of mouth. Now, may I come though? It's rather uncomfortable hanging with my head upon the fireplace like this for too long. You know how the saying goes about achy bones and old age." The head asked again.

"Of course, of course, come on though at once." She nodded to the floating head before the fire flared up even higher, and an entire body stepped out.

The healer, Gavina McClain was a tall burly woman, with tan skin and a broad chest. She had a mess of curly ash blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Healer Gavina wore a light moss green and white uniform with a green large plus on the back and a matching one on the breast pocket of her blazer. She had a large dragon hide leather doctor's satchel, which was brimming with vials of potions and salve jars. "Good Evening Lady Black, who may I ask is in need of healing at this late hour?" She asked curiously at the small child in Lady Black's company.

"It is not I, but this young lady before us. She is in need of an immediate health scan as well as a full diagnostic spell. Can you help with that?" He heard Cassiopeia ask the healer. Arcturus was familiar with the woman, McClain. She was an on-call healer that both he and Cassiopeia had used for decades. She was a good witch, neutral in the war, and she was good at her job. She was very thorough and efficient; a no nonsense woman. .

"I will do a quick scan, and we can go from there with what we discover" she turned to the small girl and smiled at her. "Hello little one, my name is Gavina. What's yours?" she called out softly to the child resting on the chair. She was so small, her feet barely reached the end of the large chair's cushioned seat. The healer could see the girl visibly hesitating on what she would say.

"M-my name is Azalea Potter."

If the healer was shocked at the young charge in front of her revealing her true name she did not show it. "Is it okay with you if I do a quick medi-scan on you? It won't hurt or tingle, and I don't have to touch you." Azalea nodded. The Healer raised her Hawthorne wand and said the words Velox Sanitatum. Around her swirled purple and white sparks, almost but never quite touching her skin. The healer waved her wand again and tapped a roll of parchment, and waited for words to appear. She frowned as the roll unfurled and got longer and longer. This was not good, as it was a sign of long term health injuries or complications. This was not good at shot a veiled concerned look at Lady Black. If this was really Azalea Potter, savior of the wizarding world, she had grave concerns for the child's health.

"Azalea, do you know how to read?" He heard Healer McClain ask.

"Yes Ma'am I taught myself from Dudley's old discarded books! I nicked them from his second bedroom." Azalea said, with lots of pride in her wavering voice.

"Azalea, over there are a bunch of books about fairy tales, they have lots of pretty pictures. I think you'll like the book, The Tales of Beedle The Bard."

"Okay!" She said with a smile and walked over to the corner of the room where a smaller bookcase held children's books.

"Just think about the name of the book, and it will fly into your hand."

"But how?" Azalea asked in wonder.

"Magic dearest. Remember, you're a witch Azalea." With that she walked up to the bookcase. "Remember, just think the name and the book will fly to you." Healer McClain explained to the girl.

"Bookcase, can I please have the book The Tales of Beedle the Bard? Please?" He heard his little Azalea ask politely. The book flew into her hand promptly. Arcturus felt his jaw drop. Did Azalea really do wandless magic at age six? That couldn't be possible, not at that age.

"Whoa that was cool!" Azalea could be heard calling out as she took the book and sat down to read it in the corner of the room. While Azalea was reading the book, Healer McClain shot a meaningful look at Lady Black. Cassiopeia nodded and followed the healer, and Arcturus followed along with them, trying to keep up. Healer McClain put up a privacy charm, so little Azalea didn't overhear something she shouldn't and Arcturus rushed to be within the bubble of the charm. He didn't want to miss this, especially since this was the results of the magical scan that was just performed on the small girl.

He got there just in time to hear McClain say "She's severely malnourished and I can see more than a few improperly healed broken bones. I recommend you take her to St. Mungo's at your earliest convenience. I can handle small things like broken bones or dragon pox, but she needs acute expert care." Again, he felt like he would sick-up all over himself, but he stayed in place.

"St. Mungo's? Is it really that severe?" He heard Cassiopeia ask; he could hear the barely concealed horror and disgust in her voice.

"Yes ma'am, I am dead serious." McClain stated.

"Thank you. I will take her tomorrow morning after breakfast." Cassiopeia said after a moment to collect herself. Child abuse of any kind made her feel decidedly horrified, and especially to a magical child. Arcturus knew the statistics. The wizarding families of the United Kingdom were dying out. They all intermarried, his family included. Between the inbreeding and the fact that most families only had one or two children... There was a limited number of magical children being produced. To lay harm to one... It was a crime punishable by a stint in the prison, Azkaban.

"In the meantime, I can heal the cut and bruise on her face. Apply this dittany salve to her face after a nice long soak in this bruise heal potion. And give her a level one mild pain reliever potion while you're at it. She hides it well enough, but she's most likely in a great deal of pain right now." Healer McClain instructed Cassiopeia after a moment of them both observing the girl, who was quietly reading a book with animated pictures of three brothers attempting to go over a bridge. She was rather absorbed into the book, with a small smile on her face.

"How long should she soak in it?" Cassiopeia asked, wanting clearer instructions. She could not afford to mess up with someone's health, especially a physically abused child.

"For half an hour at least; she really needs it to seep into her muscles." McClain stated.

"Thank you again for coming over so quickly." Cassiopeia thanked the Healer.

"It's not a problem. Call me at once if anything comes up. We can set up a potion's regiment after you consult St. Mungo's for her proper physical health scans. They can help a lot more than I can reach." Healer McClain admitted, unashamed. The memory flickered, signaling that it was ending, and another one would most likely begin, and he was right. The scenery changed around him and if he hadn't paid any attention, he would have had whiplash.

It was only Azalea and Cassiopeia this time. He didn't immediately recognize the surroundings until Cassiopeia and little Azalea exited what he now realized was The Leaky Cauldron. From there, they walked through what he saw to be Muggle London, for a good five or six minutes before they arrived in front of a disused storefront. It was a brick building with the store's front window missing the glass. He watched in absolute curiosity as they climbed into the abandoned store through the broken glass, and past the mannequin that was sitting on an old-fashioned style wheelchair. Surely they had a reason for being here. He just didn't know what it was, at least until he followed after them. From the outside, it appeared to be a misplaced abandoned shop. On the inside, he saw it to be a hospital lobby. Arcturus realized that they had just entered St. Mungo's Hospital For Magical Maladies and Injuries. Huh, he had never been here before. Then again, he had never been ill or injured enough to need help beyond a private Healer like Healer McClaine's expertise.

Cassiopeia turned to Azalea before they fully entered the hospital, and she said to the little girl, "Stay silent, and stay behind me. Do not get too far away, alright?" She said as gently but firmly as she possibly could. The very last thing either of them needed was for the Girl-Who-Lived to be discovered to be at the hospital when she should have been living far away from the wizarding world, hidden safely away.

Cassiopeia walked up to the reception desk and spoke too quietly for Arcturus to hear properly until he got closer to the three of them.

"-request the presence of a trained female Healer in a private room. I will need a secrecy spell level three performed before any more information will be given out." She said in a clearly no nonsense voice that left no room for argument.

"Yes Lady Black, right away. Follow me to room five." He said right away, without blinking. Arcturus thought to himself that he must have had to deal with situations like that a lot to not blink at the somewhat strange request.

The person behind the desk led the four of them down a long white hallway and into the third room on the right. Arcturus saw it to be a large empty room with a row of chairs, a desk, and a single medical cot with a white screen on either side for privacy. There were no windows and the door looked thick and heavy, and Arcturus could both see and feel the runes carved into the wood.

"Please wait here while Healer Toppit finishes up what she's doing." He said to the three of them before he left to go back to the reception desk. Cassiopeia thanked him and he nodded back in return. Not five minutes later, a narrow waisted woman with fiery red pin straight hair walked in. She looked very stern and went straight to business. Before Cassiopeia could even request a secrecy spell she was cut off by the Healer.

"I, Healer Toppit, do swear on my magic to keep what is discovered in this room, between the people in this room. So mote it be." She said loudly in the quiet room. "Now, let's get down to business. What seems to be the reason for this visit?" Healer Toppit asked as soon as the ritual was finished and valid.

"I have Azalea Dorea Potter with me and I suspect neglect and abuse. I fear the worst has come to fruition in her living situation and, as a Lady of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I use my right to extract and protect my heiress at all costs. I call in the ancient powers." Cassiopeia stated rather firmly. This was very important, and she needed to know the full extent of the damage done to this child. Arcturus waited with bated breath as the memory proceeded. He had a rather bad feeling, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly it was until it played out more.

"This is a very serious claim. Do you have documentation to back it up?" Healer Toppit said rather frankly.

"Here is the parchment scroll from my own personal healer, Healer Gavina McClain. Here are her findings." And she handed over the scroll to the no nonsense woman, so she could look it over herself. "Ah yes, I see. Heiress Potter, please lie down on the cot here and sit very still. I will perform the health scan momentarily." Arcturus moved to get a better view of what was proceeding. This was very important, for so many reasons. As Azalea complied, with a nod to confirm the command from Lady Black, Healer Toppit waved her wand, much like Healer McClain did.

"Salutem Divulgant"

Again, much like the other healer, she tapped her wand and a white light appeared. She tapped it again on a scroll of parchment, and it unfurled quite a bit to reveal the results of the scan. As she read over it, her eyes started to widen more and more. Arcturus went over to read over her shoulder and shuddered at what he was reading off the scroll of parchment. He now knew what that bad feeling was.

Multiple untreated broken bones, mostly fingers. Things that could be explained, if it were a wizarding school age child, but this was not the circumstance here. This was a six-year-old with many old breaks in both arms, her fingers and her leg. She was severely malnourished which caused rickets as well as very poor vision. What couldn't be explained from malnutrition, was the fractured orbital socket by her right eye. That had to come from physical abuse. He knew who abused Azalea Potter; it was both her muggle Aunt and her muggle Uncle.

"Due to the results that I found, I want to do a deeper scan, but it will require a drop of your blood onto another parchment." Healer Toppit said, rather patiently too. She slowly, as to allow Azalea to see her every move, reached into her doctor's bag and pulled a single sheet of parchment with runes written in gold ink in a circle. Cassiopeia peered at the runes and was able to make out a few that she knew instantly. Arcturus recognized quite a bit of them. There was Ansuz, for insight as well as communication. He could guess that it would be used along with Sowulo, which usually represented life force, health, victory, and honor. Combined together, he would suspect that it would allow the parchment and by proxy the magic itself to look into the blood of the body. There was also Eihwaz for harmony of the magic and the mind which he saw played off the Nauthiz, which enhanced the endurance survival of the spell. Everything had to be in harmony, and that was achieved by using Ehwaz for communication and sending as well as Teiwaz for rationality and analysis, and Algiz to protect the blood being used to activate the runes from abuse and misuse. It would only do what it was specified to do, and nothing more, nothing less.

The ritual was signaled to begin when Healer Toppit spoke again. "Heiress Potter, I give you my word as a Healer, and on my very magic that your blood will do nothing but fill out the information on this roll of parchment. Do I have your verbal consent to extract exactly one droplet of your life essence to complete this spell?" She spoke clearly and slow enough that Azalea knew exactly what was going to happen.

"Yes, you do. I consent." Azalea spoke after a moment. "Excellent, I will prick your finger with the tip of my wand. Do not be alarmed, you will not even feel it." And she seemed to be right, as Azalea didn't even react to the small slice on her finger, although Arcturus wasn't sure if it was because she didn't feel it, or because she was so used to pain. Healer Toppit grasped her finger and wrung it to extract exactly one drop of blood, and squeezed it to drop directly onto the center of the circle of runes.

"Mons Revela Ante Deum"

The paper filled out in black ink, things the medi-witch already seemed to know. She looked very concerned. Arcturus read over her shoulder and felt ill. Trace amounts of muggle rat poison were found in her bloodstream, slowly killing off her internal organs. The muggles she was placed with were actively trying to kill her. It was more than physical abuse. When Cassiopeia saw this she was filled with unbridled rage, but she didn't dare show this anger to the child in front of her. She didn't show any emotions on her face, but mentally she was plotting her revenge. Arcturus couldn't help but agree with her reaction. He was absolutely livid.

After a pause, Healer Toppit finally spoke, "For treatment, I recommend three level six nutrient potions a day, for at least three months, before backing down to two level four nutrient potions. She's also going to need skelle-grow potions to regrow the left humerus, the left radius, and the elbow as well as the right radius, all eight fingers, and her right fibula, after the bones are vanished. I will prescribe a half dose drought of the living death as to relax the body. Without a doubt she will need level five pain relieving potions after that. No more than three a day, three days on again, two days off again lest she become addicted at such a young age. For aches and pains she can use muscle relaxing potions and salves as needed, level two.

The healer made copies of both pieces of parchment and handed the originals to Cassiopeia for safekeeping before leaving the room. Arcturus dreaded to find out if there was another scene for him to watch play out. He was helpless, as all of this had happened in the past. He vowed to himself that he would do whatever it takes to protect that precious little girl.

"What are those creatures, Lady Black?" Was the next thing he heard as the picture around him moved yet again. This time, they seemed to be in Gringotts bank, waiting in line for their turn with the goblin tellers. The lobby seemed to be vacant at the moment which worked perfectly for Cassiopeia and Azalea, as they did not want to be noticed. In fact, it was as if someone had cast a wordless wandless notice-me-not charm on the two of them. It was odd, and something Arcturus made a mental note of. He would have many questions to ask his younger sister. Many questions indeed. He snapped back to attention. He would have time to ponder later, but right now the scene before him, Cassiopeia's memory, was playing like a muggle movie, and he didn't have a pause button to stop it.

"What are those creatures, Lady Black?" The little girl asked. He turned to look at where she was looking in wonder and amazement, and saw the goblins in question. He imagined they must have looked funny to someone who hadn't grown up with them as a constant in their life like anyone who lived in the wizarding world. They were around the same height as the girl, maybe just a little taller, and they had serrated yellowed teeth and pitch black beady eyes that stared down at everyone from their perches behind the teller's desks. It didn't help them that their skin was a milky grey color either.

"Those my child, are the goblins I was telling you about. They respect money and gold over everything else. It's the reason we as wizards in general, trust them so much. It's against the Goblin Code to betray the gold." Cassiopeia explained quietly to the young girl. He strained his ears to hear what was said next by Azalea, but he managed to catch most of it. "-scary, Lady Black..." Azalea said while trying to hide into Cassiopeia's legs.

"It's okay, while I'm here you have nothing to worry about. I won't let anything happen to you." Cassiopeia said, and then they heard the call for them to step forward, up to the very teller goblin that Azalea was trying to hide away from. Cassiopeia took a deep breath and said, "I, Lady Cassiopeia Black, request to talk to Heartpiercer. I am requesting a full ancestry test to be performed on my charge, so she might take her proper future places in the Wizengamot, and take her rightful places as an heiress. Is he available?" She asked politely.

The goblin peered down at her from over his half-moon glasses. This goblin looked particularly fierce with his beady eyes and needle-like white hair. Arcturus winced. This was not a good first introduction to goblins for little Azalea, not at all.

"A meeting with Heartpiercer will cost you. 20 Galleons an hour, plus 15 to rent the room. Standard rates apply, you won't get a discount just for waving your arrogant family name around." He sneered at her.

"Fifteen Galleons. Total." She stated firmly, negotiating a bargain with the teller.

"Thirty five." He snarled, as if she was insane for trying to barter with him in the first place.

"Twelve." Was her only reply. It seemed that Cassiopeia wasn't taking any codswallop from the goblin. It took a real level of determination to argue money prices with a goblin, and if anyone could get a lower rate, he knew it would be his baby sister.

"Twenty. I won't go lower." He all but snapped at her. She took no offense and nodded, "Deal. When is he available next?" She asked, sounding amused.

"Fifteen minutes. Bloodfang will take you to a private room."

Another indecipherable goblin came up and snapped his fingers. Azalea flinched in fear, the goblins' appearances really were starting to scare her. She was just a little girl after all. Cassiopeia noticed and gently took her by the hand as a gesture of comfort. Arcturus wished he could reach out and pull his great-grandniece into a hug, but he wasn't there, and neither were they. It was a memory after all. He quickly followed after them, but even if he didn't, it wasn't as if he had a choice to stay. He would get pulled along with them eventually, or he would get booted out of the pensive entirely.

He noted that the room was small but warm and inviting, exactly the opposite of the bank lobby below them. There was a large mahogany desk, three padded chairs, and a stone hearth. Cassiopeia led her to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk, and then sat down in the other. Arcturus would have sat in one of the chairs if he didn't think that he would just phase though it like a ghost would.

"Do not fret dear child. As I said before, the goblins are not going to hurt you. Would you feel better if you knew what was going to happen?" He heard his sister comfort the little child.

"Yes please Lady Black." She said, and it broke Arcturus's heart to hear the fear in her voice that was usually brave and confident. It was amazing how much Azalea had grown, both physically and emotionally in the four years she had been living at Black Manor.

Cassiopeia gently explained, "The goblin, Heartpiercer, will cut your finger with a special dagger, where he will extract exactly seven drops of blood, and then the wound will heal itself instantly. The blood goes onto a special parchment where the blood melts into the paper and reveals the information on which family houses you belong to, your blood status, parental status, and your financial worth and properties. It's usually used when a muggle born, someone who doesn't have magical parents, comes to the wizarding world for the first time. It will only feel like a paper cut, nothing more than that."

"It won't hurt?" Azalea asked hopefully.

"Not a bit." She promised. By the time she had calmed down the child and explained the process, a new goblin had entered the room.

"Good morning Lady Black." he nodded to her, and turned to Azalea.

"Little one, come to my desk and stand in the circle on the floor."

Azalea turned to Cassiopeia and silently asked her if it was okay. She nodded to her. She pushed herself up and out of the chair, and padded over to the desk standing directly in the center of the office next to the desk.

"May I see your left hand? I presume your magical guardian has already explained the ritual? Do you have any questions?"

"No sir." Azalea said bravely to the very creature that was terrifying her.

"Then we shall begin." He said without delay, and pulled out a blank parchment. He summoned a ceremonial dagger that was encrusted in gold, with sparkling sapphires on the hilt.

"This will only take a moment" He said and without warning, he picked up the dagger and sliced the tip of her finger. Heartpiercer squeezed Azalea's finger and let exactly seven small droplets of blood flow through the wound before it sealed itself without leaving as much as a white line where the slice was. Cassiopeia was correct; it would only feel like a very small paper cut, and it would heal itself and go away as if nothing had even happened. Arcturus peered at the parchment as a show of goblin magic happened, Heartpeircer had waved his hand over the paper and inky black words began to form on the paper, as it began to grow in length as well.

At the top of the page, words were forming.

Azalea Dorea Potter-Black

Heiress to The Most Ancient And Noble House Of Black

Heiress to The Most Ancient And Righteous House of Potter

Heiress to The Noble and Cunning House of Rosier

Heiress to The Ancient And Revered House of Peverell

Holdings

Black Estate- 2 Billion Galleons; 525 Million Sickles; 800,000 Knuts; Black Manor (Scottish Highlands); Black Cottage (Irish Countryside); Black Château (Catania, Italy); Grimmauld Place (London)

Potter Estate- 700 Million Galleons; 209 Million Sickles; 705,000 knuts; Potter Mansion (Worcestershire); Potter Cottage (Godric's Hollow); Potter Lodge (Swiss Alps);

Rosier- 25 Million Galleons; 15 Million Sickles; 507,000 Knuts; Rosier Mansion (Staffordshire); Rosier Château (French Riviera); Rosier Cottage (Illas Cies Ria De Vigo Galicia, Spain)

Peverell- 4 Floor to Ceiling Bookcases Full of Books; Trunks Full Of Vials (Under Stasis Charm) of Rare Ingredients And Core Supplies; Peverell Grimoire: Peverell Mansion (Scottish Highlands)

Magical Guardian: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Muggle Guardian: Petunia Dursley (Née Evans)

Blood Status: Pureblood

Parents: James Charlus Potter

Lillian Rhona Rosier-Evans (Evans by Adoption)

The list was extensive, and even from here Arcturus could see the confusion that scrunched up Azalea's face at the words on the page. He started to worry, being in a pensive be damned, as Azalea began to look pale and called out, "Lady Black... I don't feel so good."

The goblin was at her side at once, holding the little girl steady, and he helped sit her down in one of the chairs. "We are always prepared for these kinds of reactions. Here, take a level one calming draught. He watched as Azalea turned to Cassiopeia and the questions started to flow.

"What? I thought my parents were poor? I thought my mom was part muggle... Aunt Petunia doesn't have magic. And who are the Rosiers?" Azalea asked all at once, confusion thick in her voice. She took the offered calming draught from the goblin and winced at the taste of it. It was floral and too sweet, like it had a gallon of sugar in the three ounce bottle that he handed to her. The goblin turned to the two of them and said, "Considering who she is related to, and her reaction to the spell, plus who her magical guardian is at the moment, may I recommend a core checking spell? It would help to check if she has any trauma or magical blocks on her magical core." He offered the two of them, talking to both of them equally. Arcturus always admired that about the goblins. They treated wizards equally, as long as you gave them respect. Age never mattered to them.

"Would you recommend it?" Cassiopeia asked Heartpeircer, wanting more information before she would make a decision. "Yes, I would do it as soon as possible." He replied smoothly.

"How much will it cost me today?" She asked knowing that everything had a price. Nothing that the goblins would offer to them would be for free, especially a service like what was being talked about. He nodded to Cassiopeia as a sign of respect, and stated the standard price for that particular series of spells. "Fifty galleons for the test and any restorative or healing practices that will come afterwards." Arcturus nodded, not that any of the three of them would be able to see him. He wasn't truly there after all.

"Do it right away." Cassiopeia agreed, immediately going to pull out her dragonhide satchel of coins. Azalea wouldn't be paying for anything she needed. After all, she was just a little girl, and as a child, she wasn't expected to have access to her money or to have to pay for things in general. That was the parent or guardian's job and she would definitely be filling that role.

"First we will need to cast a spell to check on the stability of your core and to see if there are any blocks on it to begin with. We will call in our own Healer, Healer Bloodthorne to do the scans. Please wait here while I call her in..." he said before leaving the office.

Fifteen minutes passed in almost silence. It was excruciating, with only the exception of the sounds of Azalea shifting in her seat as the calming draught took effect to break up the silence. Just as she began to settle down and doze off, as her emotions had finally evened out, the door opened, and two goblins walked though. Heartpiercer returned and was followed by who had to be Healer Bloodthorne. She walked right up to Azalea and put her hand on her forehead before anything could be said. Green magic glowed from her hand as she chanted under her breath in gobbledygook.

"You have magical blocks, yes, put on you by Albus Dumbledore. Metamorphmagus ability is ninety-five percent blocked, you are a parselmouth, your magical core itself is blocked approximately forty-seven percent, and good lord..." She trailed off with a hand over her mouth. "You have a horcrux attached to your scar by Tom Riddle..."

Arcturus froze at that. No. It couldn't be. He knew what those were. It was a terrifying horrible dark piece of magic that even he wouldn't perform, and he was a Black by birth rite.

Cassiopeia gasped quietly, shocked as well. He didn't blame her. To put a block on someone's magic was unheard of. It was practiced in the medieval times, but that was only used as a way to control the prisoners. When it was discovered that it would create an obscurus, it was widely deemed inhumane and was stopped being used.

"I can remove the blocks but not the horcrux without causing harm, or possible death." The healer informed them.

"Then yes, please proceed." Arcturus waited with bated breath.

"Okay follow me then."

Heartpeircer and Healer Bloodthorne both led Azalea and Cassiopeia across and down the hall to a large empty room with white walls and white floors, with indecipherable runes carved into the walls and floors. Heartpeircer handed Azalea a set of white linen pants and a white linen shirt, presumably to change into. Arcturus itched to go study which of the ancient runes that the goblins were using and in what order, as he had never been anywhere in a room like this before, but he had to stay on topic; he was here for a reason and that reason was to see what had happened to Azalea.

"Put these on, I will come back when you are done." Healer Bloodthorne instructed. Arcturus busied himself to go look at the runes as he heard Azalea go to change, but there were more that he didn't recognize, than the few that he did, and he had never seen them in that particular order. It must have a unique purpose, but he wasn't sure of what. Five minutes later, after Azalea had changed into the provided clothing, Heartpiercer and Healer Bloodthorne came back into the room. The Healer goblin was carrying a smooth round blue quartz focus stone.

"Hold onto this, and close your eyes. You will need to sit in the rune circle and sit cross-legged. Do not move and do not breathe. I will tell you when you can breathe again." Healer Bloodthorne told the girl gently.

Azalea sat very still in the circle and complied with the goblin's demands. Arcturus watched as she squeezed her eyes closed tight and held her breath for what felt like an eternity. There was a blinding blue light shining through her eyes even with them closed; it was almost like looking at a small blue sun. Arcturus wanted to shield his eyes from the impossibly bright light but he didn't want to dare miss such an impressive feat of magic. The walls and floor of the room glowed a brilliant shade of pure white, with the once nearly invisible runes fluorescing in a lovely shade of sanguine red, the very color of the blood that ran through their veins. It was over after what felt like an eternity, but it must have only been a minute or three at most.

"Okay Azalea you can breathe again." Healer Bloodthorne called out and Azalea started gasping for air, as if she had been holding her breath underwater forever. Her chest was heaving up and down; her heart must have been racing in her chest.

"Lady Black, it hurts..." Azalea panted out. Arcturus' heart panged in sympathy. He hated seeing her in pain, even if he knew it was necessary. Healer Bloodthorne snapped her fingers and a potions bag appeared by her side out of thin air. She pulled out multiple unmarked vials and passed them one by one to Azalea, explaining what they were as Azalea took them, not even wincing at the smells or tastes of the different elixirs.

"This one will help with the pain; this one will stabilize your core fluctuations, that's why you most likely feel so weak right now; this one will help relax and ease your sore muscles." Azalea gulped them down despite their foul tastes, like a man in the Sahara desert. She must have felt awful.

"Did it work?" She asked after a long bit, finally starting to catch her breath. Healer Bloodthorne put her hand back on Azalea's forehead and concentrated on something unseen. "Yes, everything but the horcrux has been removed. You will feel fatigued for the next week or so. Supplement that with muscle relaxing potions and core stabilizing potions every six hours exactly, for two weeks."

Cassiopeia took a mental note to contact her ingredients' supplier for the rare ingredients she would need. In total Azalea needed six different potions and two salves. She would be on a strict diet and potion's regimen of taking three level six nutrient restoration potions a day, with every meal for three months before she would be able to ease off of them and onto a level four nutrient restoration potion for another two months before she would be rechecked by a healer. Arcturus put together the pieces and realized that when Cassiopeia had contacted him to help her brew all of those potions, it was all for Azalea all along. As soon as it looked like Azalea seemed to recover, Cassiopeia called out to her.

"Are you able to stand without pain?" She asked the worn out girl.

"Yes Ma'am." It was a testament as to how much the Dursley's had put the girl through. Arcturus had to admit to himself that even he would need a much longer rest period before he would even be okay to walk again.

"Excellent, we shall proceed then." Cassiopeia turned back to Heartpiercer. "I would like to continue with our visit to Gringotts. May we speak with Poisonclaw? We will need to access the Potter trust vault that was designated for her upon her birth at the very least." She asked Heartpiercer after discerning that it would be in Azalea's best interests to continue.

"Do you have the access key?" He questioned her.

"I am afraid that her current magical guardian at the time is currently holding her key hostage."

"It will be five galleons to replace the key. The other one will disappear instantly, as always. Before you continue, she must claim her heiress rings to confirm her future Ladyship." Heartpeircer reminded them. "What does she have to do?" Cassiopeia asked warily.

"All she has to do is put the rings on. If they glow, they will be hers. They will shrink to fit her and turn invisible to anyone who does not already know about her heiress status." He explained to the two witches.

Heartpiercer led the three of them back to the original room that they had been in to begin with, and he sat behind the desk, gesturing for them to sit in the offered chairs. He brought out the rings in a black box lined with red velvet. Inside were four different jeweled rings. Azalea slipped them on one at a time, each one glowing a blindingly bright white. She was able to claim all four in total. Arcturus nodded, he expected no less from her.

"How many are there?" Azalea asked curiously.

"There are four in total to claim at the moment." He informed them, as Poisonclaw entered the room and approached the desk where they were sitting.

"The Potter ring works as a functional potions detector. It glows red if you're holding a poisoned food or drink, and green if it's safe to consume the item." he continued. "The Rosier ring protects against lower level hexes, jinxes and curses. And the Peverell ring will ward off malevolent spirits." Poisonclaw informed the two Blacks. Well, one Black and one Potter-Black, anyway.

"Thank you. We will continue on our way." Cassiopeia thanked the goblins for all the help they had done for the two of them.

He hardly had time to collect himself and make sense of all of the different information he had gathered so far from all of the memories, and before he knew it, he was spit back out of the pensive. It seemed his little trip down memory lane was over for now. He definitely had some introspection to do.

End of Flashback

Azalea was finally starting to calm down, and noticed that her magical control had begun to slip. She did the deep breathing again and again and finally regained control of herself and her emotions. Azalea quietly asked, "Grandpa... Can we go home? I want to go home." Arcturus couldn't have agreed more. Azalea wasn't used to showing such big emotions and she must have been exhausted from such a spectacular show of accidental magic. He didn't dare pull away though. He would wait for Azalea to decide when she was done hugging him. It was a good minute or two later before she shifted and let go of him.

"Unfortunately, we still have very important matters at hand to address, little one. Is it okay that we proceed?" He asked Azalea to give her an option to go home if she decided she needed it. He would never make that decision for her, he wanted to give her control over what little she could have of her life. "I-I think... I know what I want." She said hesitantly at first, before continuing with more vigor. "I want to proceed. I want repercussions to happen to that awful man. He tried to ruin my life." She all but snarled at the end. Oh merlin, Arcturus thought to himself. He knew exactly how stubborn she could be, and it seemed that one Albus Dumbledore had caught her attention in the worst way possible. He had caught her temper, and Azalea Dorea Potter was also Azalea Dorea Black. She had the infamous Black temper that all of the women from the Most Ancient and Noble house of Black all had. His sisters both had it, Naricssa and Andromeda both had it, and Merlin knows Bellatrix did too. People chalked it up to what they called the 'Black Madness', but Arcturus knew that vein ran deeper than just the surface. Azalea rarely showed her temper; she was a very patient child. But when her very long fuse ran out, there was no hope of hiding away from her; she would sniff you out, and you would face her raw fury. Albus Dumbledore's days as a free man were definitely limited.

"Excellent. How would you like to proceed, Heiress Azalea? There are a few different courses of action that we can take with the information we have on hand. The simplest of the options would be for Albus Dumbledore to be contacted with a cease and desist order, and an order to return all physical and financial property to be returned within a thirty-day grace period. Option number two would be to make copies of all of the documentations we now have on hand, and go directly to the head of the Aurors' office and have them handle it from there. There is also option three, which personally is my favorite option, where we gather the offender, and bind him to you as an indentured servant until all financial and physical properties' values are paid back in full." Sharpbeak continued as if the magnificent display of raw magical ability did not just happen within his personal office. Azalea Potter-Black-Rosier-Peverell would be a witch to keep an eye on, at the very least. She would make things a bit more interesting, he was sure of it.

Azalea opened her mouth to speak before closing it before a sound could escape. She seemed to be actually giving it a thought as to what she wanted to do instead of being rash and choosing the first option that stood out to her. She knew what he had done to her was criminal. In the darkest part of her mind, she wanted him to suffer greatly for all the damage he did. But Azalea was quickly learning the intent and power behind her title as the Girl Who Lived. She had read up on the books that were written about her life; it was an odd, detached sort of feeling to read up on all of the false information that the wizarding world assumed and wrote about you. She and Theo had a little pile in the Black Library of books that were either given to them, or they acquired on one of their many book related runs to Diagon and Carkitt. She had taken to writing in the margins, and even editing some of them, with red ink as to correct the false information. It seemed that the wizarding world of the United Kingdom all assumed that she was living with muggles, being completely spoiled rotten. They couldn't have been more wrong.

Azalea wanted, no, needed justice to happen, for at least one thing that had gone wrong in her life. She knew what he did was more than stealing from her; Azalea knew that he was her original assigned magical guardian, and he was the one who decided where she was hidden away. While she wasn't sure if he had known about the abuse she suffered for those long five years of hell, she did know that from age one to age six when she did live with the Dursleys, she had never been checked up on by anyone. It was that realization that helped make up her mind. She didn't want to be around him, and that ruled out option three. That left options one and two. Could she trust the Aurors to do the right thing, and on that front, could she even trust Albus Dumbledore to be able to return the stolen properties and money that he had taken for five years of her life? She was at an impasse, so she turned to her great uncle and asked him. "Grandpa Ari, what should I do? I don't want him to be a servant to me; I don't want him around me twenty-four seven. Can I trust him to do the right thing on her own? Or do we go to the Aurors and have them deal with him?" She asked, acting serious for a rare moment.

Arcturus nodded indicating that he did hear her, and gave it a good moment of thought before speaking. "I think, and hear me out before you say anything. I think we should call the Aurors and have them deal with the theft. Albus Dumbledore is not a man to laugh lightly at. He is known for his magical prowess, and I am not saying he would attack me or you, or even Gringotts, but he gained his fame mostly by taking down the previous dark lord, Grindelwald. At the mention of that name, Azalea straightened up a bit. She had heard it before in her History of Magic lessons, but they didn't get to go into detail that day about him and by the time the next lesson came up, they had already moved onto a goblin-vampire rebellion, and she had lost the opportunity. She knew he was a dark lord, the strongest of his time actually, but she didn't know much more than that. She made a mental note to either look him up more in the Black Library or to ask Arcturus about it directly, seeing as he was the one teaching it to her in the first place. She turned back to the matter at hand when she realized Arcturus had stopped talking. He must have sawn that he lost her attention momentarily. She smiled apologetically, and he continued as if nothing had happened. "I think we should hand the case onto the Aurors. Let them deal with the paperwork and the headaches he is bound to cause them. If and when they decide to deal with him, they can owl us and inform us or me of their decided actions." Arcturus explained patiently.

"I think I like that idea. I don't like the man and I haven't even formally met him yet. Let the Aurors deal with it." Azalea agreed, speaking both to the goblins in front of her and to her great uncle. The goblins nodded at the decision and Sharpbeak snapped his fingers. A rather thick packet of papers appeared on top of the pile of already there parchment and Azalea blinked in awe. Goblin magic absolutely fascinated her, and she always wanted to know more every time she saw it in action. She would have to maybe owl Sharpbeak and ask about it, she rather wondered and hoped that he wouldn't mind.

"We will see to the paperwork that is needed to make that decision happen. There is nothing else that needs your immediate attention, so if you should do like, you are free to leave." Sharpbeak said as a formal dismissal. Seeing as Arcturus didn't have anything else do do at Gringotts, and neither did his young charge, they politely said their goodbyes and were escorted out of Sharpbeak's office back to the atrium where all the tellers were. Arcturus led Azalea to the aperation point that was nearest to the bank and firmly grasped her and took her home back to Black Manor. Today had been a tiring day and it was only just after noon. He would call for their missed lunch in the back gardens. They needed some relaxing, especially after what just happened.