THE ONLY THINGS THAT BELONG TO ME AARE MY CHARACTERS YOU DONT REGOGNISE. THE WIZARDING WORLD (AND DEMENTORS) BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING

So…..this is my story. Most of the people who've written 'my' biography never get their facts right. They say my hair is purple. PURPLE. Who has purple hair? My hair is simply indigo. A weird hair color, yes. The amount of comments I get on it on a daily basis is annoying. And no, I am not a metamorphogus, nor did I use some special power unknown to this world. I was born with it. At Least I think. Because I'm not sure where or when exactly I was born. But we'll get into that later.

Normally, a witch in the Muggle world would creep out her parents, get their Hogwarts letter, and be all starry eyed about living in Hogwarts. That is only if that witch has parents….. and wasn't brought up at the time of the witch hunts.

The billowing smoke from the fire in front of me seemed to go on forever. It went far up into the sky, seemed to touch the heavens - a place where she would hopefully be in an hour or two. It was January 1693, and she was caught 'practicing witchcraft'.

She wasn't allowed to take part of a hearing as she was an orphan; there was no one to stand up for her.

How was she supposed to know she could levitate books and kill with a flick of her hand? The child was only five!

But she knew to the public that didn't matter; in their eyes, she wasn't even human. The little girl could die for all they cared. In fact, that was what was going to happen now.

She supposed her life was to flash before her eyes, but then again, she was only five. And she also didn't exactly have a life. Or remember anything, really.

She was her own enigma. It could be weird at times. Really weird.

The crowds were shouting now. The fire was getting closer.

She awoke to the world just two months ago, wondering who she was. Not literally; she knew her name.

But figuratively. She didn't know what she liked, hated, wanted, or even the people she knew. Or how she got where she was.

The five-year-old then felt an old feeling move through her. She looked up and saw something strange in the sky….. There was a figure above the city that seemed almost like a bundle of flowing darkness all jumbled up into a rather inhumane form. No one else seemed to notice it.

A shout brought her out of her thoughts. "State your name and uses of witch craft, creature!" A man spat out.

She stayed silent. Not a word came out of her mouth. She was too tired to answer him.

And, frankly, she didn't like to be spoken to in that tone.

So she completely ignored him. And really hoped it would annoy the grumpy, fat man.

Of course, it worked, but sadly, it only seemed to make the man shout some more.

"You will speak when spoken to! I asked you a question, girl!"

She genuinely smiled, and on the rare occasion she did so, grown men were known to run away.

The man was no exception to this, and quickly got weirded out by the look he was receiving from her. He looked as if he was getting ready to bolt.

"So you recognize me as human, then?" The witch asked politely.

He seemed to realize his mistake as the use of girl implied me not to be 'a creature of some sort'

His face turned bright red, an indication that he was REALLY getting angry now.

"Speed it up! I said-"

Then the man went quiet. The whole crowd did. The ground was freezing over. It soon became so cold the fire slowly went out. To most people, it seemed as if all the happiness in the world had been sucked out.

To everyone except the little, five-year-old girl.

To her, it seemed cool, and a strange warmth came with it. Not warm, not cold, and not even between.

It was strange, but even weirder when the flying, dark shapes came. There were three silky, floating creatures in the sky. They were the things that she saw in the sky earlier.

"What are you doing? Call back your minions you witch-"

He was silenced by the wraith-like creatures. Thin, wispy pieces of air came out of his mouth. It looked like the thing was stealing his very breath out of his mouth.

It was then the crowd realized that it was the old man's own soul, being stolen by the ominous being. The crowd's' screams were stuck in their throats.

Then they were coming her way. She should have been frightened and terrified, more than anyone else.

But something changed in her as they approached her. In that moment she found their very presence calming.

In that moment, she felt something of a connection with the dark shapes Lorelei would soon come to know of as the dementors of Azkaban.

It's creepy. I know. And my favorite thing to do in first chapters is to leave out the name. If you didn't notice.

Though it's normally because the name sometimes gives away the reason I made the story…

But who knows? I may not even post the second chapter! ( but hopefully, I will. I really like this story)