Argh! As we have that Internet connection thingy with Telstra that's like, 500 thingies of download a month, and I made it go over the limit thingy, I CAN'T GO ON THE INTERNET FOR ANOTHER 3 DAYS TO DO ^ANYTHING^. BLERK! So, I will be posting this later. Ok? Ok.

LJ Fan, I luv u! (Dearly not queerly.) Send me an autographed picture! Tell me your name so I can write you into my fic! Send me your underwear! (Not really. That's scary.) (But really about writing you into the storie.)


The class gasped as Professor Sakhra (ie. Butterfly) stretched out her black leathery wings once more. "I said, does anyone know what I am?" She said. The whole class looked nonplussed, except for Hermione and Summer, who had their hands up. "Miss Granger?"

"Um. I don't actually know, it's just a habit . . ." She replied, looking embarrassed. Butterfly shrugged her shoulders, and directed her stare over to Summer.

"Yes, Miss Woods?"

"Are you a succubus, Miss?"

Butterfly smiled. "Why, yes, Miss Woods, ten points to Gryffindor!" She said, then addressing the class at large; "Summer Woods here is the only student I have ever taught that knows to recognise succubi when she is shown them." The class started murmuring to their neighbours. "Shutup" She said, as though she was asking someone to shut the window. They shutup. "Now, succubi are the creatures we will be studying first, as they are my area of . . . shall we say . . . expertise. Succubi are demons of the night, whom fly into men's houses in the cover of darkness and sleep with them. It is NOT THAT FUNNY, WEASLEY!" She shouted at Ron, making her wings stretch out to the walls and gouging holes in both of them.

"Whatever . . ." He said, looking bemused.

The rest of the lesson was spent reading from textbooks about Butterfly's species and such. (T/A/N: because I seriously do not know anything about succubuses. Succubi. Whatever.)


"Miss Woods, Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office!"

"Ok, Professor . . ." Summer said to McGonnagall, walking up to his office. 'Pepper Imps" She said, and the gargoyle jumped aside and let her in. She walked up the staircase and entered the office.

"Hello, Summer!" Dumbledore said brightly. "Now, as you have said ingredients, I would like for you to start work on the proverbial Maker's Potion of said Orlimae Potions."

"Ok then . . ." She said, and followed Dumbledore down to the dungeon, where Snape would be supervising her. When they got there, Snape was waiting, looking rather disgruntled.

"With all due respect, Headmaster, I don't see why I have to be here. Miss Woods has shown potion-making skills better than I, so I should probably be just going now . . ." He made a gesture as if to leave, and turned around, keeping his eyes on Dumbledore, with a sort of 'pretty please?' expression on his face.

Dumbledore simply smiled and said to him "I'm sure she will deeply benefit from your supervision, Severus."

Snape rolled his eyes and conjured up a green velvet beanbag to sit on. He sat down, crossed his legs, and as Dumbledore left, stuck his finger up. Dumbledore turned around halfway up the stairs.

"I saw that" He said, and stuck his finger right back up at Snape. Summer stifled her giggle and bent over the cauldron, pouring water blessed by merpeople into it. When it was a quarter full, she lit a fire under it and magicked up her own beanbag, a pink sparkly leather one. She sat on it and waited for the water to boil. She waited. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them the other way around. She smoothed a crease in her skirt. She tapped her nails on her knee, and in doing so, broke one.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" She shrieked. Snape stood up suddenly.

"What the hell is it?" He asked.

"I broke a nail!" She said, close to tears.

"You're a metamorphmagus you crazy bitch!"

"Oh yeah!" She said, changing her nails to all the same length (to make up for the broken one) and dark red. She stood up and realised the cauldron was boiling. She picked up the unicorn tail hairs and powdered unicorn horn, and dropped them in. "Roses!" She said sternly, and Snape chucked them over. She pulled out the petals out, ripped them in half, and dropped them into the cauldron. "Ladybird wings!" She said, and Snape chucked a zip- lock bag over to her. She counted out ten sets and sprinkled them into the cauldron. "What now?"

"The potion says leave for a week, a day, and an hour."

"Righto then. whell that wasn't too hard!" She said, smiling. She raced up the stairs to her dorm, leaving Snape to stash the potion somewhere.


Summer fell onto the ground at the top of a moving staircase, and cursed her clumsiness. She looked to see whom she had smashed into, and it was Ron.

"Sorry Ron, I . . . my mind was a million miles away . . ." she said, standing up. The bottom of her robes caught on her black Versace boots, and she slipped, only just managing to catch the edge of the staircase.

"Summer!" He shouted, running over to her. "Give me your hand!" He said to her. She let go one hand, and grabbed Ron's with it. He pulled her up, slowly and agonisingly. She closed her eyes to stop herself looking downwards at the hundred-foot drop (T/A/N: let's just pretend Hogwarts has a large body of water below its staircases, huh?) and Ron, sensing her discomfort, said, "I won't let you fall." She finally got to the top and she lay on the cement staircase, breathing very fast and heavy. (T/A/N: can you tell I just watched Titanic?)

"Thank . . . you . . ." she said, between terrified breaths. She stood up, took off her boots, and stepped to the other edge of the staircase, where Ron stood. She leant over the railings with her arm outstretched, and dropped the shoes over the edge.

"Shit!" He said, watching the shoes drop down to the water, bobbing for a second then sinking slowly. "In muggle money, they've gotta be worth hundreds!"

"They're designer, Versace to be exact, and I bought them for two thousand pounds."

"Shit! And you're throwing them away? Why would you do that?"

"Well, every time I look at them, I'm gonna remember just then won't I?" She said. "Best to get them out of the way. That was some scary shit."

Ron agreed. "But I can't see how anyone can AFFORD to throw away two thousand pound shoes . . ." He said grimly.

"My adoptive parents own an extremely successful hotel chain worth over 400 million American dollars." She said, looking down at her ruined boots. "Have you heard of it? It's the Woods Empire."

"400 million dollars? Bugger me . . ." Ron said. "Yeah, I think Hermione stayed there once. So you're going to inherit 400 million, plus whatever else comes?"

"Yeah, even though they're not my real parents, my proverbial mum can't have children, so I'm as good as they're gonna get." She said, suddenly forlorn. "I'm gonna be stuck with $400 million that I won't know what the hell to do with . . ."

"Whatever. Walk you back to the common room?"

"Yeah, I was going there anyways . . ."


A week, a day, and an hour later, Summer was back in the dungeons with Snape bitchin' on his beanbag, tossing Summer ingredients when she asked for them.

"FINISHED! Jesus Mary and oh-God-don't-tell-me-Josephs-gonna-get-involved I'VE FINISHED!" She shouted, doing a victory dance around the cauldron.

"No Summer, you've forgotten the Victim's Potion!" Snape said annoyingly.

"Do you know how much I wanted to slap you just then?" Summer said. Snape raised his hands in defeat and sunk back into his beanbag. But Summer did the other potion surprisingly quickly, wincing as she added the werewolf's teeth and vampire tongue, remembering how she had to get them. She did the little FINISHED speech and dance again, jumping on her beanbag and shakin' that booty like there was no tomorrow. She finally settled down and stood on the opposite side of the cauldron to Snape, asking for the knife she was supposed to use. Snape pulled a silver case out of his pocket, and opened it, pulling out a knife the shape of Summer's hair when she had put it in plaits overnight. In short, it was kind of wavy and kinky, but still cool as all-get-out. He held it by the handle and spin-threw it at Summer's head. She caught it between her thumb and forefinger, right before it would have hit her between the eyes. She lowered it, and pulled a golden strand of hair out from her head. She dropped it, and aimed the knife. The strand dropped onto the knife and got cut in half lengthways. Summer raised her eyebrows in awe.

"That's one sharp knife." She said, as she dipped it into the second potion, while drinking the first potion she had made. It tasted of over- ripe bananas, but Summer could handle almost anything life threw at her.

"Right, now we're going to go to wherever The Dark Lord is now." Snape said, suddenly business-like. But they were interrupted by a sound coming from their right. They turned, and saw Ron, Hermione and Harry running through a tapestry.

"Portus." Snape said, pointing his wand at a quill he had taken out of his pocket. "You three will have to go with us, there's no time to explain, the potion will wear off the knife soon."

"Alright, everyone touch a piece of the quill!" Summer said, resting her index finger on the end of it. Harry, Ron and Hermione did the same. Suddenly, they were pulled to a strange, brightly-lit room, and the quill dropped to the floor as they looked around. Summer gasped as she saw that the rooms walls were lined with lethal-looking three foot steel spikes.

"I was wondering when you'd come back to see me, Summer . . ." Voldemort said, then suddenly seeing the rest of her entourage, "but I didn't know you kept such . . . unlikely . . . company . . ."

"Daddy, you killed my best friend, murdered my other best friend's parents, and you stole the school's tortillas. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I have on excuse for what I did in the past. It was kill or be killed." He started.

"Then you should have been killed! Have some honour, Daddy!" She said angrily.

"And I killed your friend because she's a friggin' crazy bitch."

"So? She was my best friend!"

"And I was in dire need of tortillas. I can't keep my Death Eaters happy without the magic healing powers of burritos."

"So you settle for making your only daughter, your only reminder of Tara, suffer, just for your stupid docile Death Eaters?"

"I'm sorry, Summer. I did what I had to do."

"Well DO THIS!" She shouted, rushing at him. He whipped a hand at her, making her fly through the air in the other direction, but not before she plunged the knife into his stomach.

"Ouch . . ." he said weakly, before falling down to the ground and smouldering slightly. Snape walked over to him and took hold of his wrist.

"He's dead." He said.

Summer slammed into the wall opposite where Voldemort had stood, expecting to be rammed by a spike. She winced, then opened her eyes to find a spike protruding right next to her head. This was so funny; she started laughing, and signalling she was ok. Then she realised she was suspended halfway up a wall.

"Uh, Summer, look down . . ." Harry said. Summer looked down, and saw a long, three-foot spike, covered in blood, coming out from her stomach.

"Oh no . . ." She said, as she slid off the spike (Ew, mental image!) and fell to the floor, lying diagonally on a staircase. Ron and Hermione were too shocked to do anything, but Harry ran over to her.

"Harry . . . is Daddy dead?"

"Yeah, he's dead." He said, trying to hold back tears.

"We won, Harry, we won!" She said, blood slowly trickling out of her mouth as she spoke, and she coughed pitifully.

"Sssh, don't talk. There'll be plenty of time for that when you're better."

"I don't lie to my friends, Harry, and I don't want you to either." She said, with drooping eyelids. "I'm dying, and please don't tell me I'm not. I can see the hole in me as well as you can."

In the last few seconds of Summer's life, Harry looked into her eyes, and saw the most terrible sadness he had ever seen. And . . . was he just imagining it, but, before her eyes closed forever, did he see, just a hint of . . . love?


Oh, BOO FRIGGIN HOO. Mary-Sue is dead. Wow. I bet you brought out the tissues in that chappie. Not. Review! If you review, I might bring out a sequel. Or I might not. So it really doesn't matter if you do or not. But I'd like you to. But I'm not saying I'll shoot you if you don't. Jebus, I'm making myself confused again. Have a great Australia Day, and if you're not Australian, YOU SHOULD BE.