A/N: I've gained several story followers just from the extremely short prologue so I hope you guys will enjoy the first chapter. I'm sorry for the length. I don't have a very good attention span so it takes me several hours to write a couple pages and I stop based on where I feel it's appropriate rather than word count.

Like I said before. Send ideas and I'll see if I can work them into the story. :3

It was a purple day for Maria. She applied her periwinkle lipstick, tucked sprigs of lavender in her bun, and wore a simple amethyst necklace under her school robes. After 6 years of this the student and staff population had become accustomed to her "color days" and mostly left her alone. It had been hard in her first year when people would taunt her and, being mute, she was unable to defend herself verbally. After a few well-placed and warranted jinxes, the more aggressive students left her alone. Now when they came crawling to her for assistance with their homework she charged them double.

Maria sat next to Sylvia Jackson in her seventh year potions class. Sylvia was one of the nicer students, but Maria did not consider her a close friend. The feeling was mutual on Sylvia's side.

"G'morning Maria," Sylvia gave her a small smile and a sidelong glance, "What's purple for?"

Maria held up her trusty portable chalkboard and letters magically formed as quickly as she thought the answer.

It's for tranquility.

"Oh." Sylvia gave a tight smile and turned back to the front of the class.

Maria sighed imperceptibly and resisted rolling her eyes. People always asked and then looked confused. Surely a seventh year in advanced classes should understand magical correspondences, but alas it was not so. She ran her nails along the grooves in her dark wooden desk. Years of graffiti were explored until Professor Snape swept into the room with his usual swirl of robes. He had to know that it lost its imposing effect after a few years in his class. She suspected he did it more out of habit than anything.

Professor Snape brusquely explained the potion they'd be making that day while writing the instructions on his own board. Once he was finished Sylvia and Maria immediately set to work in companionable silence. Potions was Maria's favorite subject. The basic theory behind it was the same as her magical correspondences. The subtle flow of magic from the witch or wizard during its creation is what makes a potion a potion, rather than a stew of seemingly random ingredients. And it was the colors, stones, and herbs that acted as a conduit for her magic and goals. Even muggles did it with their good luck charms.

Professor Snape had spent the period prowling and intimidating students. Now he stood before Maria and Sylvia's table looking down at them with his nose raised in disdain. He inspected their completed potion. It was the perfect shade of baby pink and was smoking just the right amount. "Adequate." He sneered and then swept away to inspect other victims. The two girls shared a smile and then turned to their own devices. Their potion was perfect and they knew it.

Lunch came quickly and Maria sat alone at an edge of the Ravenclaw table, reading and eating chocolate. Snickering from her left distracted her from the book and she inspected two third year boys snickering and nodding at a petite blonde girl across from them. What was her name? Oh right, Luna. She wore radish earrings and appeared to be completely oblivious to her mocking housemates. Her blue eyes stared into space dazedly and as Maria scanned the table she saw that other students were behaving in a similar manner to the boys. A brave second year flicked some peas at her with a spoon and tried to contain his laughter when she snapped out of her daze. Luna looked around for a moment and then went back to concentrating on nothing ostensible.

Well this wouldn't do at all. If there was one thing Maria couldn't stand it was a bully. She was painfully reminded of her first year when it had been incessant. Between being mute, muggleborn, and her odd habits it was absolutely impossible to escape ridicule. She observed Luna a little longer and decided against hexing the mocking students for now. Luna appeared unfazed by the negative attention and Maria didn't want her to feel like she was being pitied. Maria was all too familiar with that feeling. She took a deep breath and meditated on her tranquility for a moment before returning to her book. Lunch would be over soon.

It was on this purple day, when Maria was so focused on her peace of mind, that she set into motion a series of events that would cause the most stressful period of her life. Of course she was completely unaware of this fact until it was too late. Isn't that how these things always work?

She threw her bookbag and chalkboard onto her bed and directly turned to pull Delilah out of her tank. Maria set her toad in the crook between her shoulder and neck and Delilah croaked contentedly in her right ear. She then pulled a large canvas bag out of her trunk and carefully dumped about a dozen books onto her bed. Now that October had begun she'd already read through all of her textbooks for the year and felt that she could devote some time to fiction.

In alphabetical order Maria began to sort the books. And for each section of letters she sorted the books from tallest to shortest. She soon discovered that one of the books was not a work of fiction, but instead the forgotten diary from several months ago. It would make a good dream journal she supposed and set it on the nightstand beside her bed so that she could reach for it in the night if she felt the need to. Then she selected the first book in the first stack and set the rest of the stacks under her bed. Each group still separated alphabetically and stacked in decreasing size so they looked like obtuse triangles.

Delilah was then placed on the far right side of Maria's pillow and settled in for silent story time with her best friend.

In the morning Maria woke with a strange dream about butterflies replaying in her head. She continued to contemplate it as she prepared herself for breakfast. She painted her lips dark blue and braided a shimmering blue ribbon into her long brown hair before putting it up in her usual bun. The butterflies had been an iridescent blue. It wasn't till she was gently placing Delilah in her tank that Maria saw the black dream journal sitting innocuously on her bedside table. She carried it with her all the way to breakfast and made sure to focus on the dream the entire way. She sat down in her usual spot and flipped the journal open hoping to jot down her thoughts before she forgot the dream that was already fading.

October 1, 1992

Maria paused to collect her thoughts, but the dream flitted out of her mind and beyond her grasp when her eyes widened taking in the new line of script that was definitely not hers. It was angular, but retained an air of elegance. It looked like calligraphy.

That's the year, is it?

She pinched her thigh and when she was sure that she was awake she replied with a shaking hand.

Yes it is. Who is it that's asking?

My name is Tom Riddle. What's yours?

Tom Riddle. The name did not ring a single bell. He definitely did not go to Hogwarts. At least not since she had been there.

My name is Maria Kane. Did you go to Hogwarts?

Yes.

When did you go to Hogwarts?

I started school in 1938.