Authors Note: So this is the first story I've ever written so if you have advice, ideas, or anything else go ahead and tell me, but please don't be mean or rude about it. The story starts out kind of dark I know but this is just so I can get her to Sally, so it won't always be like this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Except for one person, Private Drive was a completely ordinary place full of completely ordinary people. A little girl known to the world as Azalea Elizabeth Potter was that exception. She was the young niece to one Petunia and Vernon Dursley something they expressed no pride in the exact opposite in fact.
Azalea Potter was the tender age of four and had never known a kind word. She lived under the stairs in a cupboard that held a small mattress and many spiders. Her Aunt and Uncle never even used her name, preferring to call her freak or girl instead, and encouraged their darling son Dudley to do the same. It was by chance that she had learned her name, if she hadn't always been sitting near Dudley when Vernon tried to teach him how to read, a very useless endeavor it seemed, then she would have never learned how to read by sheer stubbornness.
And if it hadn't been for the fact the only blanket she had for her small thin mattress was her baby blanket, that oddly enough looked as new as the day it was knitted, then she would have never learned it. For there on the corner of the blanket knitted in was the name Azalea E. Potter.
Reading had been a very hard thing to learn not only for the fact she had no one to ask for help when she got stuck, but also because at times the words would start to rearrange themselves or float off the page. She knew this wasn't normal and she would never tell the Dursley's they would think it was another freakish thing about her, so she worked past it not wanting to get punished for it.
She already had gotten punished many times for her inability to stay still to the point that she had learned to control her own fidgeting. She still felt the urge to move and the energy moving in her body, making her want to run as fast as she could to use some of it, but she controlled herself. She had gotten rather good at it and had learned how to observe her environment and people instead as a way of occupying herself.
Unlike Dudley, Azalea had chores, they varied all the time mostly due to her age. For a four year old she was a rather good cook and it was one of the few chores she enjoyed besides gardening, though she barely ever got to do that since the neighbors would start to talk.
One chore she liked the best though was cleaning the attic. She rarely ever got to do it but when she did she always found something interesting. Petunia refused to go upstairs in the attic with her to watch her clean because of how hot and dusty it was in there.
Cleaning out boxes and organizing them was always enjoyable it was like opening up a long forgotten memory box and sorting through all the surprises left behind. She found lots of odd things old clothes, broken toys, dishes, decorations, dusty books, and other stuff. There was one thing, though, that she found one day that made her heart skip a beat.
It was a photo album.
Inside there were faded pictures of strangers she had never met and never would. One picture caught her eye though it had three young girls in it all around the age of 15. The one on the far right seemed to be a much younger version of Aunt Petunia, on the far left was another girl she looked nothing like the other two and had dark black hair a loving smile and blue eyes.
The one in the middle looked familiar a face that Elizabeth had seen look back at her many times from a mirror. The only real difference was the hair, which unlike her own dark ebony black was a blazing red, and the eyes, even if it was hard to tell. The girls eyes where a light green unlike Azalea who had a sea green instead, though they at times seemed to change color depending on her moods, if they were strong enough.
On the back read Petunia and Lily Evens with Sally Jackson. That was her mom one thing Petunia had made sure to explain to her was that her mother and father, Lilly and James Potter, were no good drunks that had died in a car crash leaving her to burden the Dursleys. It was amazing seeing her mom for the first time in her life, and pulling the picture out of the book she made sure she would always be able to see it.
There was another great thing about the picture though. Ever since she was old enough to understand the intentions and feelings behind the Dursley's actions she had hoped someone would appear to take her away. Seeing the other person in the picture strengthen her hope that maybe one day she would come and visit and then take her away with her.
It was days later when it happened with the picture tucked away in Dudley's oversized pants that the girl wore and thoughts of escape far from her mind.
It was an accident really, a mistake she made when she was dusting the living room as the Dursleys sat and watched TV. She was cleaning a very expensive vase that was placed on a table in the living room when her hand slipped.
And with a large cracking noise it shattered across the floor into millions of pieces.
The silence that followed the noise was terrifying; the only noise to be found was the droning voice of someone talking on the TV. Then like an explosion from an atom bomb the sound caught up.
"GIRL!" roared uncle Vernon as he jumped to his feet, purpled faced from his anger. "YOU'VE DONE IT THIS TIME!" with that he moved as fast as his large form would allow him towards her.
Azalea wasn't a fool if she was then she would have long ago starved to death from the Dursley's one piece of bread meal they gave her. Her survival instincts were unusually developed for someone her age as was her intelligence. So when uncle Vernon lumbered towards her she knew that she had to run. Vernon punished her all the time for things that, most of the time, she didn't do or just for the sake of trying to beat IT out of her whatever IT was. So she knew if he caught her this time she probably wouldn't survive.
With her heartbeat thudding in her ears she used all of the pent up energy in her body to run and run she did. Vernon easily fell behind as she moved unnaturally fast dashing through the living room out into the hallway. Running up to the front door and unlocking it she pulled only for the door to stop with a sudden jerk. Glancing up she could see the deadbolt was in place and far out of her reach, and the space between the door and the wall was too small for her to squeeze through.
"GET BACK HERE YOU UNGRATEFULL FREAK!" was screamed from behind her. Twisting around she saw Uncle Vernon come around the living rooms entrance. An ugly grin came across his face when he saw her.
"Trapped and nowhere to go it seems eh girl, I've got you now."
Ignoring him she looked for another escape, it was too much of a risk to run past him so there was only one way left to go. With that in mind she dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was moving so fast that she fell on the steps her chin and elbow colliding with the hard wooden step.
Vernon let out a trumped laugh as he lunged forward at her. She felt his hand start to encircle her ankle and without thinking she began to kick frantically. With a solid thump her foot hit the side of his arm causing Vernon to become unbalanced, his arms flailing widely, unable to stop his large body from falling. With loud thumping noises he rolled down the steps crashing to the bottom in a giant heap.
Scrambling up the steps on her hands and knees and ignoring the throbbing in her jaw and elbow, that were sure to bruise, she reached the top of the steps. She ran through the hallway until she reached the chain that hung down from the ceiling that led to the attic.
Jumping up she grabbed it hanging from it from it until gravity pulled it down with her body. Stairs slid smoothly out of it leading to a trap door as Vernon stumbled up the last of the steps.
"WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" Vernon yelled as he started to limp down the hallway.
With a panicked gasp Azalea ran up the attic steps pushing the trap door open and climbing inside. She began to pull the steps up behind her when they jerked to a stop a fat meaty hand held onto the bottom rung pulling them back down.
Unable to hold it she let go which caused Uncle Vernon to let out an angry yell as he fell down from the stairs suddenly giving away. Shoving the trap door shut she began to push and pile boxes on top of it in an attempt to keep Uncle Vernon from opening it.
Scrambling to a corner in the attic she sat there with her knees to her chest her arms wrapped around them watching the boxes on the attic door begin to shake.
"GIRL YOU OPEN THIS RIGHT NOW! JUST WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU'LL WISH YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN FREAK!"
Slowly the boxes began to fall off allowing the door to rise up more after each hit. Azalea let out a soft sob terrified of what Uncle Vernon punishment would be when he finally got her.
Pulling her mother's picture out of her pocket she held it close like it could shield her from her Uncle's wrath. Looking down at it she stared at her mother's smiling face as tears splashed onto the photo. Turning her eyes onto Sally, the stranger in the picture, she wished with all her might that she could be with kind looking women and away from her Uncle and Aunt.
With a crash Vernon managed to throw all the boxes off the trap door making them slide and tumble off and spill their continent across the floor. With an angry growl he climbed through the door and began to limp to Azalea.
"No were to go now girl." He snarled reaching out to grab her. Azalea closed her eyes and curled further into herself while holding the picture to her chest. Tears ran down her face as she sobbed "No…nononononono please I'm sorry no."
She just wanted to be safe for once with someone who didn't hate her for being born, was that too much to ask for? Thinking of the women in the picture she couldn't help but to want to be with her. 'Sally… I-I wish I was with Sally'.
And with a soft pop Azalea Potter disappeared from the attic of number 4 Private Drive leaving a furious Vernon behind who could only scream in rage as his hand closed on empty air. Far away, across the ocean and in a small apartment found in New York City, America a young girl appeared landing on the couch beside one Sally Jackson.