Chapter One:

Banishment

Azula rushed into the abyss of Forgetful Valley and followed the dirt path ahead. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her, hoping to escape her pursuers.

"Azula!"

"Azula, come back!"

"Please! Wait!"

"No!" She strayed from the path and dashed into the thickness of forest. "Stay away from me!"

Azula didn't care how far she had to go as long as she got away from her treacherous family. She pushed through the branches and shrubbery, burning down anything that got in her way, and it wasn't long before the calls of her mother, brother, and his friends faded.

She stopped running and sat down on a nearby rock. The chirping of the birds and the gentle rustling of the wind in the trees would've been tranquil to normal ears, but to her, the subtle sounds were disturbingly mind-splitting. There was nothing but forest for miles and miles in every direction, and to make it worse, this was a spirit's territory.

There has to be another way out of here. She groaned. Who am I trying to fool? There's nowhere for me to go.

It seemed like only yesterday that she was on top of the world, with everything she ever wanted at her disposal. She was her father's perfect child, a fire-bending prodigy, the conquerer of Ba Sing Se, and she would've been Fire Lord if it hadn't been for her brother and his friends.

Now, she was a mere smudge in history. Future generations of her beloved homeland would only remember her as her brother's crazed sister whom fell from grace. The thought of having to live the rest of her life with such a reputation sickened her to her core.

Azula sighed. "Looks like after everything, you've finally beaten me, Zuzu. Then you have the nerve to say that you still care for me as a sister. Of course, you do. You have the upper hand now."

Zuko had taken their mother's love, her friends' affections, and the crown to the throne. Why should she believe such words when her brother had no problem going against her every chance he got? No, his offer was nothing more than a trap. He couldn't be trusted. None of them could, and she wouldn't make that mistake again.

I'll simply have to go it alone. She lowered her head. What other choice do I have?

"Azula?"

Looking up, she saw her mother standing before her with open arms. "No. Go away! Why won't you leave me be!"

She closed her eyes and put her hands on her head. It seemed like she couldn't go more than five minutes without being haunted by her mother's voice. Straining her eyes open, she glared at her.

"Azula, please come back." Ursa's eyes watered. "I love you. We love you."

She stood. "Shut up!"

Charging her fingers, Azula created a bolt of lightning and shot it at the vision of her mother. It disappeared, and she scowled at the scorched spot in the dirt.

"Stop lying! You've always thought I was a monster! Why else would you leave me without a word! Why else would you replace me with that little brat!" she said.

Azula threw fireballs in every direction, hoping she would strike anyone that had still been following her. Large butterfly shaped spirits fluttered out of the trees and swarmed around her. She continued her assault even though the spirits couldn't be harmed by her bending. They were obviously angry that she was destroying their home, but why should she care? It was their fault all of this happened in the first place.

That's right. The Mother of Faces. Azula forced her way through the spirits and headed in the direction of the large pond that resided in the center of the forest.

The surrounding area was calm and serene, and the water was so still that it looked like glass. She looked into the pond, her reflection staring back, and she gasped at her appearance. Her hair was slowly coming undone, the loose strands hanging around her face, and there were dark circles around her eyes, making her look haggard.

"What's happened to me?" Digging her nails into the silt, she cried aloud. "This is all your fault!"

She charged up another bolt of lightning and shot it into the pond. The water bubbled and fizzed before glowing bright blue, and a giant wave erupted from the pond, knocking Azula on her back. She coughed and spurted, trying to wipe the excess water from her face, and when she finally looked up, she saw the Mother of Faces towering over her. The spirit glared at Azula, all four of her faces seething with rage.

"What is the meaning of this, human?" The Mother of Faces growled. "How dare you attack my sacred pool after I returned your mother to you!"

Azula stood. "You're the one responsible for taking her away in the first place! I bet you did it because she told you about me, didn't you! That she was afraid of me! You felt sorry for the mother with a monster for a daughter!"

She fell to her knees and cried. Is this what she had been reduced to? Bellowing her sorrows in front of some stupid spirit?

The Mother of Faces kept her expressions stern. "I only granted what was wished of me."

"You could have refused! You could've sent her on her way for having the nerve to be such a coward!" Azula sharply waved her hand in the air to gesture her anger, a few sparks flittering from her fingertips. "This was all a conspiracy to take me down, wasn't it?"

The Mother of Faces stared at her for a few unsettling minutes. She hissed, her voice booming across the whole valley. "Very well. If this world has caused you so much pain, then the only solution is too remove you from it."

"What?" Azula stepped back. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Yours is a face I craft very rarely. A face that can lie, hide…." The Mother of Faces frowned. "Deceive."

The pond bubbled around her.

"And it's always the same. I sit by and watch as my creations destroy themselves from within, but not this time." Her eyes opened wide and glowed white. "I never want to see your face again!"

The Mother of Faces sunk into the pond and dragged Azula down with her. Azula struggled to get free, but she was being pulled by the spirit's sheer will. She gasped for air, her heart racing. She couldn't defend herself underwater, and it would only be a matter of time before she drowned.

Is this how it's going to end? She flailed around, her hands clawing through the swirling current. Murdered by a spirit with this pond as my unmarked grave?

Azula braced herself for the inevitable, the water slowly filling her lungs, but death never came. Instead, she felt muggy, and the air was very thick and humid. She took a deep breath and evened out her body temperature. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was lying on the ground.

Night had fallen, and Azula was in a narrow alleyway between two dilapidated buildings. Using the wall next to her for support, she slowly stood up and looked around. Where had the spirit sent her? She couldn't recognize the style of the any of the buildings. Glancing down at herself, she noticed that her uniform was soaked.

"Great." Azula dropped her arms to her sides. "I'll have to find a change of clothes once I figure out where I am."

She walked down the alleyway, trying her best to ignore the putrid smell of garbage that littered the area. Along the left wall were several posters. She tried to read them, but couldn't understand any of the words.

"What language is this?" She furrowed her brow. "This doesn't ease my nerves."

Narrowing her eyes, Azula continued her path out of the alleyway. Reaching the main street, she gasped. From what she could tell, she was in the middle of a city, and it was definitely not within the Fire Nation. The closest similarity she could think of were the slums of Ba Sing Se.

"No. That spirit couldn't have left me in enemy territory? That oaf of an Earth King would have my head," she said.

Unfortunately, her only option was to explore this new place, and maybe she could find someone to help her or at least find a way home. She treaded down the sidewalk, and the more she saw of the city, the more she knew she wasn't in the Earth Kingdom either. She still couldn't read any of the signs or posters, and there were strange vehicles in the streets. The best she could compare them to was the coal-powered tank she had used to track down the Avatar. However, these machines were much more advanced and moved without an obvious fuel source.

Azula heard someone wolf whistle. Turning in the direction of the noise, she saw three men standing right outside of the next alleyway and directly in her path. Going by their uniforms, she could tell they were soldiers. However, the insignia on their hats was some red, white, and blue combination she didn't recognize. The burliest of the soldiers sluggishly stumbled forward, his face flushed over, and when he spoke, the words came out as some weird gurgling sound.

Well, it's clear that the people here speak a different language. She snubbed her nose at the way the soldiers casually approached her as though they were on the same level. Not to worry. I'll simply breeze past, and if these drunks are stupid enough to mess with me, it'll be the last mistake they ever make.

Ignoring the soldiers' insensitive jeers and inappropriate gestures, Azula strode by with her head held high, but before she could make it to the end of the block, the burly soldier chased after her and snatched her by the wrist. She could tell by the way he seized her that he was too wasted to hold any proper form, allowing her to spin out of his grip and kick his legs out from underneath him. The soldier gurgled while the other two yelled in protest. They stomped toward her, and she couldn't help but smirk.

Seems like they need to learn the hard way. Fine by me. Maybe kicking them around will help me blow off some steam. Azula dashed toward the soldiers, easily bobbing and weaving around their sloppy strikes. They're not really a challenge even for non-benders. I'll stick to basic melee for now. Don't want to draw too much attention.

The soldiers continued to yell while trying to get a hold on her. She flipped in the air and kicked the burly one in the chest with both feet, sending him crashing into his friend behind him. They both tumbled to the ground while the third man tried to punch her multiple times. Left, right, left, right, she dodged every hit before swinging her leg over and kicking him, face first, into the brick wall next to him. The soldier groaned before slinking to the ground. She kept her defensive stance, eying each of the soldiers for any signs of movement, and when she was certain they were down for good, she relaxed and put her hands on her hips.

"Serves you right, Peasants. Having the nerve to attack royalty," she said.

However, when Azula turned to leave, one of the soldiers sprung to his feet. He had a murderous glare in his eyes and spit some unknown obscenity at her before holding up a weapon she hadn't seen before. It was silver and fit right in the crook of his hand. He pulled something on it, and with a loud bang, she felt something pierce her left shoulder.

The pain was sharp and quick, and it shocked her system so badly that she fell back on the ground. Azula clutched her shoulder, feeling blood seep through her uniform, and she had to bite back a groan when the armed soldier stepped on her lower abdomen. He leered down at her and gurgled before aiming his weapon at her head.

"Get away!" She forced her hand forward and shot a blast of fire right in his face.

The soldier screamed so loud, Azula was sure that he had woken up the whole city. She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn't budge. Her eyelids became heavy, and she was finding it difficult to focus. She could hear more gurgled voices, and the last thing she saw before passing out was the concerned face of an old man.

….

In another part of the city, living in the farthest room of the highest floor within Wool's Orphanage was a young boy. He was lying on top of his bed, the sheets tossed to the side, for it had proven to be a rather warm summer. Although the boy should've been sleeping, he found himself unable to. There were far too many thoughts stirring about in his mind. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his disheveled, dark hair.

Only two more weeks until I can finally leave this wretched place. The boy made his way over to the small table by the window.

Resting on it was a clean quill, a bottle of ink, and a little black book.

He sat down and sighed. I long for the day I'll never have to grace this filthy, muggle domicile again.

He hated being cooped up in his room, but it was the only way for him to have some piece of mind. The thought of spending even a second with the muggle children made him sick.

Thankfully, Mrs. Cole has learned to fear me. A tiny smirk crossed his lips.

It was humorous how much the old woman and the other children avoided him, believing him to be a mentally unstable freak. If anything, their behavior only proved their inferiority. Opening the black book, he turned to the freshest page and picked up his quill.

August 18th, 1942

Dear Diary,

I believe this will be the year that I will claim my birthright. The Chamber of Secrets, Salazar Slytherin's great legacy will be opened, and I will fulfill my destiny as his true heir. The mud-bloods will be eradicated from the school. A first and major step in my plans for the future.

Until I need you again,

Tom Marvolo Riddle

He closed the book and glanced out of the window. "Yes, this will be a very interesting year indeed."

….

"No good muggles. Swear they'd murder their own shadow if it scared them enough."

Azula furrowed her brow at the voices echoing around her. She couldn't register what was going on or where she was, but soon all of the noise ceased. She could feel she was on something soft, and after groping around, she realized she was on a bed. Blinking a few times, she opened her eyes.

This doesn't look like my old room in the mental ward. So much for trying to write all of this off as a dream. Azula sat up and glanced down at herself.

She was no longer in her Fire Nation uniform, and instead had been placed in some plain, white frock. Her hair was down, clumping between her and the pillow behind her. The part of her shoulder where she was hit was bare, but the wound was gone. She couldn't feel any pain. It was like she hadn't been attacked at all.

Examining the room, the best way she could describe it was sterile. Everything from the floor, to the walls, to the very sheets on her bed were stark, blinding white. To the right of her bed was a small nightstand, and to the left was an old chair that had her clothes thrown on top of it. Before she had a chance to process what was going on, the door swung open. An elderly woman, who was dressed like some type of healer, stepped inside with a tray of food in her hands. Seeing Azula, she smiled.

"Oh, thank goodness you're awake." She sat the tray down on the nightstand. "How are you, dear?"

"Fine, I–" Azula put a hand to her head. "Wait, I can understand you?"

The woman had a strange accent, but it wasn't the same gurgling language she had heard before.

"Used a simple translation spell. Very handy when traveling, and it wears off once you learn the language." The healer chuckled. "My name is Madam Winfrey."

If I'm ever going to get any control of this situation, I'll have to keep a cool head. This healer should be useful for some information. Azula lowered her head and shrunk her shoulders in to look more timid before weakly coughing. "I'm Azula. What happened?"

"You were attacked by some nasty muggle soldiers." Winfrey sighed. "These are troublesome times. It feels like nowhere is truly safe anymore with these wars."

Azula looked at the tray. There was a goblet of water and bowl of green soup.

There's a war going on? That's good to know. She picked up the goblet from the tray and took a sip from it. "And where am I?"

Winfrey smiled. "Back in the Wizarding World where you belong, dear."

Wizarding World? Azula almost choked on her water, and setting the goblet down, she patted her chest a few times. "In what nation?"

"England, of course." Winfrey gestured around them. "This is St. Mungo's hospital, located in London. You must still be out of it, dear."

If only…. Azula was about to question her again, but there was a soft knock at the door.

Winfrey scurried across the room and opened it. "Oh, good morning, Mr. Dumbledore."

"It has been a lovely morning, hasn't it, Madam Winfrey?" It was a man's voice, and although it was a bit gruff with age, it had a very whimsical tone to it. "Is the girl awake?"

"Yes." Winfrey nodded.

"If it's alright, I would like to speak with her once you're done."

"Yes, of course. Please, give us a moment." Winfrey shut the door before returning her attention to Azula. "Alright, dear. I'm going to have to ask you to get dressed. Mr. Dumbledore would like to speak with you."

Azula frowned. "I don't know anyone by that name."

"He's one of the men who found you." Winfrey walked over to her bedside. "Can you stand?"

"I can manage." Azula slid out of bed.

"Very well. Your clothes are on the chair. Ring that bell if you need anything." She pointed to rusted handbell that was sitting on the nightstand before leaving the room.

Azula walked over to the chair and picked up her uniform. Getting dressed proved to be a difficult task without any servants, but she was able to make herself presentable. There was another knock at the door, and she quickly put her hair in a messy topknot before returning to the bed and sitting down.

She folded her arms. "Come in."

The door opened, and a man, who was at least in his sixties entered the room. He had medium gray hair, a long beard, and was dressed in very elegant and colorful robes. Azula's eyes widened. It was the man she had seen before she passed out. He met her gaze, his blue eyes glancing over his half-moon specs.

"Good morning, young lady." He smiled and took off his hat. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, and you are?"

What a ridiculous name, but dumb or not, he seems to be an important figure around here. Azula faked a smile. "My name is Azula Ryu."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ryu." Dumbledore walked over to the chair and sat down. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some candy that was wrapped in yellow paper. "Would you like a sherbet lemon?"

She shook her head. "No, thank you."

She was hungry, but she wasn't about to take candy from some strange guy she met a second ago. It could be poisoned for all she knew.

"Very well." Dumbledore took one for himself and put the rest back. "Always been my favorite. Now, Ms. Ryu, would you like to tell me about yourself? It's unusual for a young lady to be wandering about on her own. Where are your parents? By your surname, I presume you're a half-blood or muggle-born?"

Azula slightly narrowed her eyes. Clearly, the people who lived here thought she was one of their kind. She would have to spin a story and fast.

I don't have enough information to think of a false identity though. I'll have to play this by ear. She tucked her hands together on her lap and lowered her head. "My family… they…. We've been separated by the war. I… I can't talk about it."

"It's alright. I understand." Dumbledore furrowed his brow. "Then it is safe to assume that your family is or was not magical?"

"Magical? What are you talking about?" She huffed. "I was minding my own business when I was attacked by those thugs."

"Calm down. My colleagues and I saw what happened, and you are not to blame. The muggles have been dealt with, and it's lucky that one of them lived. He sustained fifth degree burns all over his face. As for the reason I requested to speak with you privately…." He leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. "You, Ms. Ryu, are in the Magical World. Here, we have two societies. One is where you are now, which is filled with magical citizens, or to use proper vernacular, witches and wizards. The second society belongs to the muggles or non-magical citizens. I am aware that you possess magical ability as well, though it is very different from what we do here."

He gave her a small wink.

"Do you take me for a fool, Mr. Dumbledore?" Azula frowned. "There is no such thing as magic."

As though predicting her reaction to the news, Dumbledore pulled a long, wooden stick from his pocket and pointed it at the food tray. Swishing the stick, the goblet and the bowl levitated into the air and were set on the other side of the nightstand. He then swished the stick again at the tray itself, making it float over to Azula and land in her lap. She jumped to her feet, knocking the tray on the floor.

"What? How did you do that?" Azula mentally cursed herself for losing her composure, but she couldn't help it. This man had moved everything without touching anything or using any obvious bending.

"Like I stated before, Ms. Ryu–" He smiled. "Magic."

A world of magical people? Azula raised an eyebrow. How peculiar.

He appeared to be friendly, but she wasn't sure if she could trust him. It was even more suspicious that he was hinting that he knew where she was from. Did he know who she was? This Magical World was nowhere near the Fire Nation, but if he knew anything about her, it would cause problems.

"What do you want from me, Mr. Dumbledore?" she said.

"I'm here to make you an offer." He sighed. "I don't know how you got here, and I suspect you don't know how to get back."

Azula was brought here by a spirit, so there's no way to know if this world is connected to her own. Was there a way for her to return home, or was she going to be trapped in this strange new world forever?

A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of it. "No."

"I see." Dumbledore nodded. "Then please consider my offer. I am a professor at the prestigious Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Now if you agree, I will pull some strings to have you admitted to Hogwarts where you can remain safely until we can find a way to send you back home."

Who'd want to attend a school with a name like that? Still, I don't have anywhere else to go. It would be pointless wandering around on my own. I'd only draw in more attention than I already have. Perhaps, I should attend this school. It'll give me time to properly learn everything I can about this place, and then I can go it alone. Azula sighed. "Very well, Mr. Dumbledore. I accept your offer."

"Splendid. Now we only have to conjure a proper identity for you." A piece of parchment and a quill floated beside him and started jotting notes down. "Given your surname and your orphaned state, we can claim that you're a muggle-born, who's lost your family due to this ongoing muggle war."

The quill wrote more notes down.

"How old are you?" he said.

"Fifteen. I'll be sixteen in the last month of autumn." She would've used the proper word for the month, but she figured Dumbledore wouldn't understand it.

"Perfect." He put the parchment and quill away. "I'll have you reinstated into your fifth year, and you'll require private tutoring due to being a bit behind."

I have to pretend to be a low, average student? Ugh. She frowned. "But how am I going to live here? I don't have a place to stay, or money, or supplies."

Dumbledore held up his hand. "Not to worry, Ms. Ryu. Hogwarts is a boarding school, and we have a special account to provide aid for less fortunate students."

Azula refused the urge to grimace. She had never been less fortunate in her life.

"Now, I will be taking my leave. If everything goes as planned, I will return to you in three days. Until then, I've arranged for you to stay here." He stood and nodded to her. "Good day, Ms. Ryu."

"Wait." Azula stood. "Why are you doing all of this? You don't even know me."

"Consider it a kind act from a Good Samaritan." He put his hat on and left the room.

Azula sat back on the bed. She wasn't quite sure what emotion to feel. A part of her was angry, but another side was confused, and another sad, and another unnerved. It became so overwhelming that it gave her a headache.

"Everything will be okay, Azula. You can handle this." She looked at the bowl of soup and felt her stomach rumble. Retrieving it from the nightstand, she tasted it and immediately spit the spoonful out. "Nothing but slime. I'll starve if this is what all of their food is like."

It didn't help that the soup had gotten cold, although she doubted it would've made much of a difference. She set the bowl back on the nightstand and lay down on the bed.

The only thing left to do is wait, and I'll have to stay on my toes. That man was a little too nice, but I can use him to get a first hand look at this so called Magical World. If I play my cards right, I should figure out what his angle is. She closed her eyes.