Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters. I only own my own characters: Anton Elisaveta, Azalea Vale, Dahlia Wren, and Alex Garrison. Other new characters might arise. I own them, too.

Chapter 1

Tears are the words the heart can't say and the bitterest tears are those of words left unsaid. She felt the weight of these sayings now more than ever. The clouds blocked out any warmth or happiness the sun could provide. The sea of black clothed people began to dwindle. Yet, she remained standing in the same spot, unable to move and unable to tear her eyes away from the two gravestones lying in front of her. It shouldn't have turned out this way. These things just don't happen.

She was crying now. Silent tears were flowing freely down her face. She didn't dare wipe them away. She deserved to cry. She couldn't help but feeling that she deserved everything that's happened. Her parents are dead and she couldn't do anything about it. She wasn't there to protect them, defend them. Her last conversation with her parents was an unhappy one:

"You cannot go to Bulgaria!" her mother had shouted. "Are you crazy?"

"Why can't you understand me, Mother?" she had shouted back. "Can't you for once in your life support me? I love him!"

"You haven't seen this boy in four years!" her father scolded. "Just how are you so sure he is waiting for you?"

"We write to each other!" she argued as her parents screeched with frustration. "We owl each other every week! I'm going and I'm going to get married!"

"AZALEA!!" her mother screeched, watching with horror as her daughter marched to the door with her trunk.

"Azalea Vale," her father said harshly, "if you walk out that door, I swear I'll disown you, do you hear me?"

She walked out the door.

She had gone to Bulgaria to meet Anton Elisaveta. He was a student of Durmstrang and she met him her fourth year in Hogwarts. They had been owling each other non-stop since. As soon as school finished, Azalea informed Anton that she would be honoring the promise they made to each other four years ago. They promised each other that Azalea would go to Bulgaria and she would spend the rest of her life there with him. Azalea was anxious to see Anton again. She packed all her bags and prepared to leave. Her parents stood in her way. They told her not to go and that he didn't love her. She told them they were wrong and she went anyway. She went and word spread that she had eloped and disgraced her family. But she didn't care. She went straight to Bulgaria.

Anton looked at her guiltily and sadly. What he had to tell her tore her to pieces:

"Sorry, Azalea," he said, unable to look her in the eyes, "I should have told you earlier. I'm in love with someone else. I can't marry you. I'm sorry."

It broke Azalea's heart. She was wretchedly hurt. She had been rejected by the love of her life. Her parents have disowned her. She has no job. She has no money. She has nowhere to live. She went back to England with a heavy heart, unsure of what to do. She stayed over at her best friend, Dahlia Wren's house and told her every detail. Dahlia's parents were at a business trip in Macau so nobody knew Azalea was ever back.

Then news reached Azalea that her parents were murdered and their manor was ransacked and burned straight to the ground by some former Death Eaters passing through and running away from Aurors. Azalea was devastated. She immediately returned to their ravaged home, looking around at the place where she grew up, crying about how she never will see it again in its former glory. She heartbreakingly began funeral plans for her parents. She didn't even get a chance to tell them how sorry she was. She didn't even tell them how much she loved them. She didn't even get a chance to thank them for everything they've done for her.

Now she is alone with nowhere to go and nobody to turn to. Thanks to that forsaken war that just came and went, she had lost all her relatives. Her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins were all dead. She had nobody. She was totally and completely alone. She had nowhere to turn to and the unsaid words that she should have told her parents made her feel infinitely guilty. The guilt swirled around in her and the tears came harder. She had nothing. She had no family. She had no money or job. She had no place to stay. She had lost her parents and her only home. She had stained her own reputation by running away to Bulgaria and coming back rejected. What was she to do now? Where was she to go?

"I'm so sorry, Azalea, dear," a voice behind her said.

She jumped slightly and was sucked back to the present. She hurriedly wiped away her tears and turned around, embarrassed for having been caught so weak and so broken. She stared into the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Their onyx garb made them look even more wealthy and opulent, more sophisticated and classy. The Malfoy family was pardoned and was not sent to Azkaban as they were not a part of the travesty that went on at Hogwarts and there was no other proof to be found to implicate them further. Their status in society had only changed slightly and they were working to rebuild their name. Despite all this, they were still as wealthy as ever. Lucius and Narcissa were one of her parents' best friends. In fact, Lucius and Narcissa were her godparents.

"Thank you for coming," Azalea said in a low voice.

"Oh, my dear, you poor thing," Mrs. Malfoy said.

"The truth is, Narcissa and I aren't just here because of the funeral," Mr. Malfoy said and Azalea looked up at him with a surprised face. "As you know, we are your godparents. Your parents entrusted your safety to us if anything should happen to them."

"Yes, I know."

"In circumstances such as these, Azalea," Mrs. Malfoy continued, "we would like to take care of you and ask you to live with us in our manor."

Azalea couldn't hide the pure shock that came alive on her face. She hadn't expected this at all. She knew of course that they were her godparents but it never occurred to her that they would honor the promise they gave to her parents. Here they were offering her protection and a comfortable life. As a person who has nothing, she should have jumped at the opportunity straight away. But she was raised to be a respectable pureblood. Her pride wouldn't let her accept. She couldn't handle the embarrassment.

"Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy for your offer but I simply couldn't impose," Azalea shook her head dejectedly.

"Where will you live? What will you do?" Mrs. Malfoy questioned.

"I'll rent a flat," Azalea suggested, combing her brain for possible options. "I'll get a job."

"Nonsense," Mr. Malfoy pronounced, "school just ended. You need a platform in which to take off from so you can succeed. Rotting away in some forsaken flat will not lead you to success. I must insist upon you staying at the Malfoy Manor."

"I really can't," Azalea shook her head. "I've disgraced my family and I've ruined my reputation. Taking me in could have unforeseen and disastrous repercussions to your family."

"We've all made mistakes," Mr. Malfoy said. "But you are a pureblood. Your dignity and reputation would suffer further if you force yourself to live in shabby conditions. Furthermore, you living at the Malfoy Manor is perfectly understandable. We are, after all, your godparents and we promised to look after you."

"Mr. Malfoy, really, I-ˮ

"Dear, please," Mrs. Malfoy said, "you've nowhere to go. I couldn't forgive myself if a bright and beautiful girl like you wasted away to poverty."

She stared at the couple in front of her. It seemed as if they were serious. She didn't want to seem like she was leeching off of the Malfoy family. It was completely not the case. Her parents had left her everything that survived. They left her all their money. She would not be impoverished but such amounts of money could only last her for so long. She wouldn't be staying at their manor forever. She would eventually move out but can she really stand the humiliation of having to stay at another wizarding family's home. But what else could she do? She had nowhere to go, nobody else to turn to.

"Azalea?" Mr. Malfoy called.

"You're very kind to me, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," Azalea finally spoke. "Thank you. I can only hope to repay you someday."

Draco Malfoy was lying on his back, tossing a Quaffle ball up and down in the air. Blaise Zabini sat next to him, looking up at the sky. Draco had no earthly idea why they were in the garden. The sky was bloody dark. It seemed like it would start raining at any moment.

"Where are your parents, Draco?" Blaise asked. "It's the middle of the afternoon and it's Saturday."

"They're at some funeral or whatever," Draco shrugged. "I think one of their friends died."

"Why didn't you go?"

"I didn't know them."

"Did they tell you who died?" Blaise asked.

"Yes, but I forgot the name," Draco muttered.

"Perhaps you weren't listening," Blaise suggested.

"Perhaps you should shut your flaming noise hole," Draco said harshly.

Blaise laughed throatily. "So Pansy tells me that she's finally over you," he said.

"That's a laugh," Draco snorted. "It's been what? Three or four years since we dated and she's just now getting over it? Sad sack."

"I think she's lying though."

"How so?'

"She also casually mentioned that she's beginning to hate Astoria Greengrass," Blaise chuckled. "Coincidentally, you're also getting quite friendly with Astoria."

"Can you blame me?" Draco retorted. "Hot little piece, that one."

"She's Daphne's younger sister!"

"Only by a year," Draco reminded him.

"Tell me you're not turning pedophilic," Blaise sighed.

"You're an arse, Zabini," Draco scowled and Blaise laughed.

They heard rustling of a robe and clicking of shoes on the cobblestone pathway and they both turned their head. The two of them watched Mrs. Malfoy head over to them. The two boys quickly gathered to their feet and brushed themselves off. Draco let the Quaffle drop to the ground. Mrs. Malfoy gave his son a kiss on the cheek.

"I see you're still being idle, dear," Mrs. Malfoy said to him and then looked over at Blaise. "Ah, Blaise, how are your parents?"

"They're fantastic," Blaise answered. "Thank you for asking."

"How was the funeral, Mother?" Draco asked.

"Dreary and melancholy, of course," she answered. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you just about what happened at the funeral, Draco. Blaise, would you mind very much if I send you off?"

"Not at all," Blaise smiled. "I'm expected home at any moment anyway."

"Thank you, Blaise," Mrs. Malfoy smiled.

"Goodbye," Blaise uttered and disappeared into thin air with a loud crack.

"Follow me inside, Draco, dear," Mrs. Malfoy said and headed off, expecting him to follow which he did. "Our dear friends, Hiram and Asphodel passed away and left their daughter orphaned. You might not know this but your father and I are her godparents. She is quite alone and your father and I worried that something dreadful might happen to her in her loneliness.

"This is precisely why we have asked her to live with us here at the manor," Mrs. Malfoy said and Draco turned his head sharply to stare at his mother. "We have moved her into the room across from yours. I want you to be gentlemanly toward her, Draco, do you understand? She has suffered through a great deal. Do try to make her comfortable and cheer her up. Could you do that for me?"

"Of course, Mother," Draco nodded, "but isn't she supposed to go back to Hogwarts soon?"

"Hogwarts?" Mrs. Malfoy chuckled. "Draco, she was in your year. She has already graduated."

"Mother, what is this girl's name?"

"Azalea," Mrs. Malfoy answered, "Azalea Vale. Remember, Draco, be a gentleman."

Mrs. Malfoy patted her son on the cheek and left him at the bottom of the grand staircase. Azalea Vale? Something about that name stirred in Draco's mind. She was in his year? Was she in Slytherin. Idiotic question. If his parents were friends with her parents then she should have been in Slytherin. Azalea Vale. He had heard of the name before. But where? He turned his gaze up the grand staircase. In the room in front of his, huh? Draco supposed that he should introduce himself. If anything, he wanted to know if his new housemate was a beautiful goddess or a wretched toad.

Draco knocked on the door before him. He wondered quietly what this Azalea Vale looked like. He had heard her name mentioned somewhere before but he just couldn't place it. No answer came from within the room. Perhaps she was elsewhere in the manor? It was very likely but Draco knocked again to be certain.

"Please go away," a soft smoky voice spoke.

Draco felt his gut twist as if he'd just been swiftly kicked. What a sensual sort of voice, he thought, raising an eyebrow. Surely, a voice like that would be housed within a beautiful girl. More determined now to see her, Draco knocked again on the door.

"I said go away!" the voice said angrily this time.

The tone of her voice easily aggravated Draco. Scowling, he whipped out his wand. He pointed it at the door and blew it open.