Disclaimer: I am not associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Harry Potter or the Marvel Universe in any way. It'd be great if I was though.

Warning: features mild descriptions of abuse.

Holly Potter was far from a well-cared for seven year old. In fact, she was the polar opposite. Orphaned at the tender age of one and left with her relatives, the Dursleys, who hated her for reasons she didn't understand. Since she was four she had been forced to cook and clean for them. When she didn't get all of her chores finished in time her uncle would strike her with his belt. She knew it was wrong, even though they made sure to tell her she deserved it for her "freakishness".

Pain was a constant in her life. Whether it came from her back, her stomach, or her aching bones that couldn't grow properly, it was always there. She was small and skinny from malnourishment. Some of her teachers had even commented on how beautiful and fairy like the small redhead was. It made her want to hit them. How could they not see?, she always thought, How can they not know what the Dursleys do to me? She had decided she was sick of their compliments on her slight figure. This led to her current predicament.

A young substitute had been teaching the class today, and she had squealed in a horrid manner before rushing towards her to scoop her up in a hug. Completely unaware of Holly's obvious discomfort, she chattered about how adorable and doll-like she was, how fragile and fairy like. It was at this point that the woman had dropped her, shrieking, as all of her hair spontaneously fell out.

Holly hadn't been able to stop her laughter at the horror on the woman's face. Apparently this was enough to ascertain her guilt, and she was quickly dragged to the Headmaster's office behind a livid teacher. The Dursleys were called, and the look on her uncle's face was enough to drive away any remaining joy and replace it with a heavy sense of dread.

She had been suspended for a week when she wouldn't confess to how she did it, in spite of her telling them that she didn't know. The Dursleys drove her back to Privet Drive, and her real punishment began.

This time, her uncle didn't hold back. He had done so before, afraid of damaging her so much that it was unexplainable. But she had a week to heal this time. So he threw her down in the front hallway the moment they were back. His belt was off before the door was fully closed, and Holly was whipped and kicked and punched until he was satisfied. The entire time he ranted, "I won't have any of that freakishness in my house, do you hear me?!"

When he was done he opened her cupboard door and kicked her in, ignoring the pained whimpers that spilled from her mouth. Hearing the locks click, she curled up in a ball and laid there. She knew moving would only make it worse. But as a puddle of blood slowly formed under her and it got harder and harder for her to breath, she couldn't help but hope. Is this it? She wondered, Will I finally be free of this place? And as her consciousness faded, she thought for sure the answer was yes.

She was hiding behind a tall man, clutching the back of his creamy elven battle robes as they strode down elaborate golden halls. She was so nervous, she wasn't ready to meet the Asgardian Princes, she was way too young, only a hundred years old. What if she messed up? What if she horribly insulted the Allfather? What if she irrevocably destroyed Asgardian and Alfheim relations? Her panic increased as they approached a large pair of golden doors, intricately carved with an image of the World Tree. It was the throne room. This was her last chance to save the future of her world's relationship with the Aesir. She tugged on the man's robes and he paused, looking down to her questioningly. "Father," she whispered, feeling small, "I can't go in there."

A soft smile softened her father's already kind features. He kneeled next to her, gently asking, "And why is that, my princess?"

She bit her lip, but stopped immediately. Her tutors always told her it was a bad habit. "What if I mess up?" Her voice rose slightly as she told him of her inner worries, "What if I offend them?"

A light chuckle escaped her father's large frame. Eyes twinkling with humor he told her, "I am sure you would offend them more by not appearing." Seeing the worry that still lingered in his daughter's eyes, he added, "Do not worry, my little Azalea. The Allfather may be a fierce warrior, but he is very kind. He will not hold any mistakes you may make against you."

Mollified by her father's words, she blew out a breath and tried to ease the tension in her small body. Squaring her shoulders, she nodded to her father and walked proudly beside him into the throne room.

Only to hide behind him once again at her first glimpse of the mighty Allfather. He seemed a large and scary being upon his magnificent golden throne. His hair was a light blonde that was beginning to grey, a small beard adorned his chin, and many scars could be seen upon his face and neck. He wore traditional Asgardian armor, as well as a deep purple cape with gold lining. A shining helmet rested by one hand on the throne, while the other hand gripped a large golden staff. If she hadn't been so nervous, she might have commented on the Asgardians obsession with shiny gold things.

"Greetings, Allfather."She heard her father speak, but kept her face hidden in the silky folds of his robes, and felt him bend at the waist in a short bow.

"Greetings, Freyr." The Allfathers deep, rumbling voice replied, sounding amused, "Who is the shy young maiden hiding behind you?"

She flushed and hurriedly stepped away from her father, dropping into a curtsy. Keeping her gaze firmly on the ground below her, she opened her mouth to greet him, and was horrified to find her voice would not work, quickly snapping it shut. Hearing quiet laughter from more than two people, she risked a quick glance up and saw three others she had not noticed before. The Queen, Frigga, who wore a beautiful blue gown that flowed around her elegant frame. Her jewel-covered hand was raised to her mouth as she laughed, and her eyes crinkled with mirth.

Next to her were two young boys who looked to be barely older than her. The Princes. The bright blue-eyed one stood arrogantly, wearing a dark blue tunic and a red cape over his shoulders. He was large, like a small boulder come down from the mountains, but it was all muscle. His blonde hair looked like a maid had tried to comb it back but failed, leaving it a half-done mess on his head. He laughed loudly and without care at her fumbling, unaware of how cruel he seemed to the young elven princess in that moment. At least the others were being subtle with their amusement.

Next to him was a slightly younger, dark haired boy. He seemed to be the polar opposite of his brother. His posture was proud but reserved, and his long hair was tied back neatly. He wore a dark grey tunic, a brilliant green cape trailing behind him. His slighter frame made the simple cloth look more elegant. He wasn't laughing. She glanced at his face, curious, only to meet equally curious eyes. Dark, emerald green eyes that looked like they had been plucked straight from a rock. Feeling her face redden in embarrassment, she ducked her head down once again. Stupid, she thought, you can't just stare at the Asgardian Princes.

Her father's ever welcome voice brought her out of her self-deprecating thoughts. "This is my daughter, Azalea. Please, forgive her. This is her first time outside of Alfheim, and she is understandably nervous."

She caught the Allfather's nod out of the corner of her eye, and he spoke again, "Of course, my own sons, Thor and Loki," he gestured to each in turn, "have yet to leave Asgard. I understand she is younger than them?"

"Your youngest is her elder by at least 50 years." Freyr replied.

The Allfather made a humming sound, and she shivered, hoping it didn't mean he was displeased. "Thor," he said brusquely to the still laughing prince, "You are being very discourteous. I expected better from you." Thor's chuckles stopped immediately, and he bowed his head, ashamed. The Allfather continued, "Now, I would like to invite you and your daughter to dine with my family while we discuss the happenings on Alfheim. Do you accept?"

Her father bowed his head in consent, "Of course, Allfather."

The Allfather waved his staff free hand as he rose, "No more of that now that we are passed the formalities. You may call me Odin."

Bowing his head again, her father replied, "As you wish Odin." He gestured to her to follow him, and they began to make their way out of the throne room. It was then that several things happened.

A flash of white light covered her father from head to toe, and Azalea barely had time to feel a flash of alarm before it disappeared, revealing the changes wrought upon him. His once creamy white robes were now a garish clash of orange and green. The polished, armored parts were rusted and ready to crumble into dust. And, best of all, his platinum blonde hair stood straight up, as if he had been electrocuted.

As she took in the state of her father, she was dimly aware of a young boy's sniggering and the booming voice of the Allfather scolding said boy. She couldn't help it. She giggled. And once the first giggle had escaped her, it was like she couldn't stop as all of her nerves were leaving her in a bout of laughter. Soon the rest of the room was silent again, as the occupants stared at the painfully shy girl who was bent over, clutching her stomach as her mirth escaped her. It was contagious, and soon everyone, if they were not laughing with her, wore small smiles. The dark haired boy, Loki, was grinning with a self-satisfied air about him.

It was not to last, however. Too soon her laughter ended, and everyone floundered for a moment at how to proceed. Odin turned back to his youngest, an angry look on his face, but was interrupted before he could begin.

"Thank you, young prince." her father spoke, a smile still on his lips and joy in his eyes.

Odin turned from Loki, surprised at the words his ally spoke. Loki, similarly shocked, barely stammered out, "Thank you? You're thanking me? Why? I have ruined your robes." His confusion showed in his features, and it oddly made Azalea want to laugh again, as it reminded her of the similar expression on her father's face just moments ago.

Freyr replied earnestly, "My daughter has not had any reason to laugh for the past month, so great were her nerves for this meeting. It was a sound I greatly missed, and you managed to bring it out of her, in the midst of being introduced to the mighty Allfather as well! And so I thank you." He bowed his wild haired head respectfully to the prince. "The ability to bring joy to others is a great gift; hopefully it shall serve you well in the future."

After saying his piece, King Freyr was rushed away to be given a new set of clothes. Loki was also taken away, presumably to be given his punishment (he did pull a prank on visiting royalty, after all), and was soon returned to the room. Azalea joined the Princes in the antechamber while she waited for her father to return. The Allfather and Queen had disappeared, leaving the three children to themselves, not counting the numerous guards around them. It was a bit awkward at first, due to her shyness, but that was quickly rectified when she complimented Loki on his prank. That sparked a brief history of all of his greatest pranks, with Thor adding comments to the ones he had helped with.

When that started to get boring, she had asked him how he did it.

"With magic, of course." Was his reply, not realizing the beast he had just unleashed on himself.

"Magic?!" she exclaimed excitedly, "You can do magic? Oh, please please please show me, father says I can't learn for another fifty years, he'll barely let me near any of our sorcerers. He's afraid I'll trick them into teaching me. I haven't seen it cast since the disaster on my seventy-fifth birthday, please?" By this point she had grabbed the sleeve of Loki's tunic and was emphasizing each please with a sharp tug. It was all he could do not to fall over from the elven princess' hard pulls. He glared at his brother, who was laughing at his predicament. Finally, Azalea noticed what she was doing and let go of him like she'd been burned. "Oh, sorry." She mumbled, fiddling with her hands. He wouldn't show her anything now.

She heard him sigh and missed the considering look he shot her. "Fine," he muttered. Her head whipped up to stare at him hopefully. "I'll show you some little things after dinner, but only if our fathers let us go to do as we please."

Grinning, she swamped him in a hug, "Oh thank you thank you thank you!" she yelled in his ear, making him wince. Gently, he pried her arms off of him, and she quickly released him, "Sorry." She repeated, though she really wasn't very sorry at all. He was going to show her magic! Her grin must have been infectious, as soon Thor was grinning just as big as her and Loki was smiling too. She thought to herself, this is the start of a beautiful friendship.

Holly gasped as she woke from the dream, painfully aware of the gaping hole in her heart. What was that? She sat up, rubbing her head to ease the ache that had accompanied it. Was it a dream? No, she thought, no dream is that detailed. A memory? Maybe. She'd heard of people who had memories from previous lives. Aunt Petunia always said they were attention-seeking freaks. Maybe that was where her freakishness came from. But no, they couldn't have known if she didn't know. It must have just been a dream, she decided, stretching as much as she could in the cramped space of her cupboard. A beautiful dr- her thoughts froze as she stared down at her body. She could move, without any pain at all. But how? The last thing she remembered was being thrown in here after a beating. There was no way. It was like magic.

She paused, thinking back to her dream. Maybe it was magic. And maybe, a hopeful part of her whispered, it wasn't just a dream.

When Vernon Dursley opened the cupboard the next day, half-expecting to find a rotting corpse, he was shocked and angry to find Holly Potter sitting there perfectly fine, quietly doodling on a dirty piece of paper with a broken crayon. He had immediately put her to work, and then hurried to inform his wife of what had happened. They both agreed that it had been that foul freakishness, magic, and Vernon was forced to stop taking his anger out on his niece. After all, it hadn't shown up in their home until that day, and so they decided that if they stopped the physical punishment, it would have no reason to show up again. They wouldn't have any of that freakishness in their house.

And so Holly Potter's life improved slightly. Yes, she still had to deal with achy bones, hunger pains, and Dudley's new little gang of friends, but she no longer had to worry about when and where the next lash would come from. And if she attributed this small improvement to that dream and her sudden health, well, she wasn't wrong.