The Succubus Club

~*~ prologue ~*~

A rustling from the alleyway filled the girl's ears, causing her to duck behind two garbage cans close by. Looking up in confusion, she watched two people breeze by her. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in their appearance. One, a boy about her age looking more than a bit underfed with wild black hair and round glasses stood there nervously, glancing up at his companion often. It was the man that truly drew her attention though. He was easily at least seven feet tall, and wilder than the proverbial Borneo man. In his hands he held an obscenely pink umbrella.

Growing more and more curious, the girl pushed back her own thick black hair and slunk closer, remaining in the shadows of the trash cans. Before her the Giant raised the pink umbrella and counted up and over several bricks before tapping on one, the wall opening before them to reveal a darker alleyway.

" Welcome." The giant boomed out. " To Daigon Alley!"

Jimi Richardson was twelve years old, an orphan of four and a half years, and insatiably curiously. Wide eyed, she crept even closer, completely unafraid. She had spent her life with weird things happening to her and before her very eyes. A giant, a boy, and a door in the wall seemed no weirder to her young mind than her own glowing amber eyes. Watching the two step forward, Jimi became aware of the wall threatening to close behind them. Without a bit of hesitation, she set her chin determinedly and dashed forward as they began to walk into the opening, slipping in on the tail of the large man's shadow to duck to the side to explore as they continued to walk away.
As she wandered the street it didn't take long for the bright girl to put a few things together.

An apothecary, owls, unicorn horns, broomsticks. Yep, Jimi decided she was definitely in an open air witch's market. A look of undisguised awe crossed her face as she began to stroll around leisurely, ducking happily into a bookstore. Scanning the shelves, the girl removed a heavy book of magical creatures of good and evil.

" Are you here for your Hogwarts books?" A man asked from behind her. Startled, she whirled to face a clerk, smiling politely at her. Smiling back, she shook her head.

" I'm really just killing some time, that is, if I'm not in the way..." The round faced man shook his head.

" No, but do feel free to tell me if you need any assistance." Nodding, Jimi opened the book and sat down among the stacks, her love of reading absorbing her totally.


With a gasp, the book slid from Jimi's suddenly numb fingers to the floor with a smack. Leaning over to pick up the book, she was surprised as the clerk suddenly appeared, almost magically.

" Is there a problem?" He asked in concern. Jimi shook her head, her voice momentarily missing.

" C-could you please pronounce that word for me?" She asked in a muted whisper when her voice returned. The clerk removed a pair of square spectacles and slid them on, looking down at the page the girl pointed to.

" That, my dear, is pronounced Incubus..." He stopped as her face paled suddenly. " Are you all right?"

" N-no. I mean, I'm fine, but I think I'm late and I really must be going.." Standing in a rush, Jimi left the shop and leaned against the outside wall, trying to steady her breathing as bits of the passage ran through her head.

:: Gives birth to a child of supernatural capabilities. ...Merlin, born of the union between an Incubus and a nun...::

A strange new glint lit her eyes as the girl dug deep into her pockets, digging out several wrinkled pound notes of various amount as she headed for a nearby shop.

It was dark and musty inside the shop, it's walls lined from ceiling to floor with boxes and boxes. As Jimi stared, wide-eyed, a slight man appeared beside her, his silver eyes bright in the dim shop.

" Welcome to Ollivanders!" He greeted cheerfully. " I love this time of year, so many eager new faces!" Jimi grinned. " And down to business, do you know which hand is your wand hand my dear?" She shook her head appologetically.

" I'm right handed." She offered. Nodding, the man began to take measurements with a tape measure. After a few moments he walked away, leaving the tape measure to continue on it's own. For a moment, Jimi stood there before bursting into delighted laughter, causing the shop-keeper to turn at the sound of pure happiness she emitted. A blush crept across her face, but did not dampen her smile. " I'm sorry. it's just, I knew what all this was.." She began. " But I hadn't seen any real magic until now."

" Just wait until we fit you for a wand." He chuckled. " Stop." The tape measure dropped to the floor. " Since I've had the odd and rare pleasure of fitting three people for particularly strong and rare wands today, I think we'll just start in the back room with you." Following him through the store, Jimi looked around in awe at the open assortments of wands surrounding her. The man wasted no time. " Try this one. Nine inches, bendy, mahogany, phoenix feather. Just wave it." Gripping it loosely, Jimi made a gentle motion with her wrist. Nothing happened, but the shop keeper practically beamed at her.

" Look at that grip! And the wrist motion! you, my dear, are a natural for wand work." He proclaimed.

" Thank you." her voice was hesitantly confused as he took the wand.

" Try this one instead. Twelve inches, swishy, willow with a dragon's
heartstring." Enjoying the feeling of the smooth willow beneath her hand, she waved the wand before her gently. A smile crossed the old man's face. " Oh, you are going to be fun to fit."

After almost an hour, Jimi didn't think she was too much fun. Doubts crept through her head as she looked at the steadily growing pile of wand boxes abandoned around her. Perhaps she was mistaken. Maybe she wasn't meant to be a witch. Maybe she had misinterpreted what she had read. In the end, maybe she was just wasting her time,and his.

" Sir.." She began dejectedly.

" I've got it!" He interrupted, scurrying from the room and reappearing a moment later with a box held almost reverently in his hands. " This particular wand has sat in this store for three generations, but it just may be sold today!" setting the box down, he opened it. " Thirteen inches, ebony, little flexibility, with the centre stand from the horn of a black unicorn. Very good for powerful spells." Jimi gasped as the wand was placed
in her hand, the sleek wood warm to her touch. A feeling of kinship welled up from deep inside her and she smiled as she gave the wand a wave. A delighted giggle flowed from her as a sweetly scented silvery mist swirled from the wand, encompassing them both.

" It worked!" She exclaimed happily. Suddenly her face fell, her happiness draining away as suddenly as it had appeared as she stared down at the wand in her hand. The sleek black wood with it's wrought iron rings around either end. " But there's no way I can afford this." The beginnings of tears prickled the back of her eyelids at the thought of leaving the wand for someone else.

" My dear," Mr. Ollivander began, resting a hand on her shoulder as she continued to stare dejectedly at the wand." That wand has been in this store for decades and rejected thousands of witches and Wizards, even Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts. " It would be a crime against magic to separate it from you." Jimi looked up at him, hope making her amber eyes truly glow. " Take it. It's yours." Impulsively, she threw her arms around the old wizard, embracing him.

" I will be great one day." She promised. " And then I will pay you back."


Several hours later, Jimi left the alley, balancing several second hand packages and headed towards the empty basement she called home.

* Five years later *

Jimi sighed as she dropped her bag onto her bed in the flat she was currently renting. Wearily she slipped out of the police uniform she wore and noticed something.

" Well shit. The groom took my handcuffs." Unhappily contemplating the price of new handcuffs for her outfit, Jimi reached for her worn white bathrobe. Tonight had been her fourth bachelor party in three days. If it didn't pay well, Jimi never would have started stripping.
But something had to pay for her hobby. Being a witch wasn't cheap.

Just the thought brightened the seventeen-year-old girl's night. Tonight was the full moon and it was tonight she could add the final ingredient to the particularly complicated potion she had brewing. Powdered Mandrake for a potion to help with the energy drains that struck her every month.

Walking over to the door, Jimi bolted it and began to set out the equipment she needed. In a fire proof shield, hidden under her large desk sat a dented cauldron simmering gently atop a tri-color flame of sliver, gold and scarlet. Dragging a small folding card table from beneath the bed, she moved the cauldron and fire to it, setting her supplies around it. Removing several scrolls of parchment from the drawers of the large desk below the window, Jimi unrolled them, checking the hastily jotted notes she had made in comparison with the spell book in front of her. Turning back to the table she
measured out the exact amount of mandrake and added it to the liquid that had been simmering exactly for a month, down to the very minute. Tapping the spoon with her wand, the girl muttered dervisha!, setting the spoon to stirring as she retrieved a mug from beside her bedside table. Setting the wand down she let the spoon stir thirty times before removing it and plunging her mug into the softly steaming potion. With a sigh, the girl drank it.

The pain was instantaneous. Jimi crumpled to the floor in a ball, overturning the table with the cauldron and potion in an attempt to reach her wand. It seemed to flash as her fingers touched it, but Jimi was never sure. She had slumped into a flaming unconsciousness.


Arthur Weasley looked up as an alarm sounded throughout the Ministry of Magic. Just when he thought he was going to be able to go home early there was a serious possibility of a breech between the wizard and Muggle world. Standing, he rushed out of the office, followed by his son Percy acting as a summer intern, and two young officers.

Apperating to the flat where the problem was, he stood outside the locked bedroom door and knocked forcefully.

" Ministry of magic! Open the door!" He ordered. There was a long silence. " Open the door or we'll break it down!" The silence remained. With a nod to one of the young officers, Arthur stepped back, letting the young man kick in the door. For a brief second, they all just stared.

The room was filled blatantly with supplies from Daigon Alley. Books of spells and potions lined the small bookcase and pieces of parchment covered the desk. In the centre of the floor was an overturned cauldron, it's contents bubbling on the cheap linoleum floor, beside it was sprawled a decidedly feminine figure in white, her hand clutched tightly around an ebony wand which pulsed out a signal to the ministry.
" Percy!" Mr. Weasley was the first to move. " Get back to the Ministry! Tell them we have a case of Potion poisoning involving..." He quickly cast his gaze over the scene. " Mandrake, Take some with you."
" R-right Dad." Grabbing the cauldron with a bit of potions still inside, Percy vanished in a hurry.
" You two, begin confiscating this, all of it, and take it back to my offices." Kneeling beside the girl, Mr. Weasley sighed in relief when he successfully located a fluttery pulse in her neck. " I'll take her back and send help for you two." Scooping the girl up with a bit of difficulty and a mutter about being too old, he disappeared back to the Ministry.


Jimi woke slowly, her eyes barely open as she took in the unfamiliar
surroundings. She was a hospital-like room and her wand was gone. Vaguely footfall registered in her ears, prompting her to keep her eyes lightly slitted as she listened.

" We can't figure out why she ain't dead." A confused voiced with a light cockney accent muttered apologetically. " She made the potion absolutely perfect. She should either be a very healthy succubus or a very dead girl. There should be no in between!"

"We can question her about everything in the morning..." A voice began tiredly.

" Now is good for me. I've got a few questions of my own." Jimi interjected, sitting up slowly and looking at the three men before her. One was quite young and dressed out in scrubs, confusion marring his brow. The man who had just spoke stood closest to her, his long deep green robes a contrast to his thinning but vividly red hair, half spectacles perched on his thin nose. The last man wore a suit of grey with silver pinstripes that almost perfectly matched his hair. Around his neck was a shockingly plum
tie and matching boots with pointed toes adorned his feet. " Like where am I for one." The little suited man stepped forward.

" Young lady, this is the Ministry of Magic and you are in quite a bit of trouble."

" Why?" The man looked stunned.

" Y-you violated not only the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, but if you had died and been found by Muggle authorities, you would have caused the largest known breach of the section 13 International Confederation of Warlocks Stature of Secrecy." Jimi frowned in confusion as he continued. " You could be expelled for this."

" If you think any of that made a bit of sense, I'm sorry, but you're off your nut. " She sighed. " And I can't be expelled. I was home schooled until me madre died." Now the men frowned.

" Then how did you make the Succubi Draught?" The middle-aged man in green challenged. Jimi stared at him until he averted his eyes.

" I bought a book and I worked from it. I've been my own teacher for several years." To her surprise, a bright smile lit up the man's face.

" A prodigy!" He exclaimed with a glee Jimi found unnerving. " And clever enough to never be detected practising magic before now! My dear, my name is Arthur Weasley and this is the Minister of Magic, Cornellius Fudge. I'm the new supervisor of the Muggle/Magic interference branch. Who are you dear?"

" J-jimi. Jimi Richardson." Mr. Fudge brow creased in befuddlement.

" That's odd." He began, a book thicker than the mattress Jimi lay on appearing before the man. " This book contains the name of every witch and wizard born for the past seventy-five years, and I know your name is not in here. What was your mother's name?"

" Isobellea."

" Isobellea what?" A blush crossed Jimi's face as she looked down shamefully.

" I'm not sure. She let me think it was Richardson, but I guess it doesn't really belong to either of us." Fudge never looked up, only leafed through the book.

" Well, was she a witch or a Muggle?"

" A what? She was a nun until the unfortunate circumstances leading to my conception." The man nodded absently.

" Here we go!" He crowed triumphantly. " Isobellea de`Lopez.. A very strong witch from an exceedingly long line of witches who tried to deny their powers. I suppose she tried to protect you from yourself and your history by changing your name and not notifying any authorities." He fretted. " We'll have to update all our records. Who was your father Jimi?"

" An Incubus." Her voice was a whisper, but it seemed to fill the entire room as her face continued to burn. She suddenly felt very tired.

" Dumbledoor." Mr. Weasley exclaimed. " We must inform Dumbledoor about this girl and get her admitted to Hogwarts!" Uninterested by the circus her room had become, Jimi sank to her side,
drifting into a deep sleep seconds after her head hit the pillow.

End prologue