Just a concept I'm trying out. Let me know if you like it.

This may be the only Harry Potter OC story I'll ever write, so just sit back and be patient.

xHx

Name: Lydia Saherra Marisol
Age: 23
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 124 lbs.
Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw
Wand Type: Oak and dragon heartstring, 12 1/5 inches, flexible; great for inventing new spells

Lydia sat at the bar, eyes fixed upon the mirror behind it, the first finger of her right hand tracing the rim of her shotglass. Some guy with a leather jacket sat two seats to her left, staring into his whiskey.

"You won't find the secrets of the universe in a glass of alcohol, no matter how long you stare at it," she said, glancing down at him and lifting her shotglass to her lips.

"And what would you know about that, hmm?" His gravelly voice struck a cord of recognition. She knew him from somewhere.

"I've been there before; searching for answers in amber colored liquid and never finding them. You're looking in the wrong place." She gestured to the barman for another drink, but instead of asking for another shot, she smiled at him. "Can I get a margarita now?"

The barman smiled. "Lydia, you know you can get anything you want. Hell, you're the only one who orders these Apocalypse Now shooters!" With a sweeping movement, he had the shotglass off of the counter.

Jacket moved closer by one stool. "Apocalypse Now?" He had an ironic expression.

"It's just tequila, dry vermouth, and Irish cream liqueur. Gives a hell of a kick, and supplies one hell of a hangover." With a grin and a wink as the barman handed her the requested margarita, she adds, "Wanna try one?"

"What the hell?" He downed the whiskey and requested the beverage from the barman, who had it on the counter very lifted the glass. "Dean Winchester.

Lydia raised her margarita and touched it to his glass. "Lydia Marisol."

"What brings you to these parts?" Dean asked, laughing mildly.

"Work."

"What line of work you in?"

"Should be asking you these questions." Lydia took a sip. "Always forget what a margarita tastes like. Especially after six Apocalypse Now shots."

"Me and my brother, Sam...we're kinda in the apocalypse business," Dean said, gesturing to a younger man with longer, darker hair.

"And how much whiskey have you had tonight?"

"Just the one glass. Seriously. You look like you've been through hell. I've been in Hell." He downed the shot and gasped. "That is pretty strong."

"And I can last through twelve of them without so much as a slurred word. Once I get to number fifteen, though, I look like I just got off the Viper," she said, taking another drink of the margarita.

"What the heck is the Viper?" Dean asked.

"Carnival ride. A favorite of mine. It goes up, it angles, and it spins. Spins you in, spins you out, spins you all the way around, until your face meets the ground," she said, reciting the words like a poem. "But it's nothing like Spin-Out. That one takes you upside-down."

"And how do you react on that one?"

"Screaming explitives, shrieking my head off, and getting choked by my necklace." Her left hand wrapped around the charm that decorated her neck.

"Anti-possession charm?" Dean said, sounding shocked.

"Yeah. Gift from my mother. Last gift from her, actually."

As I said - please, please, please give me your honest opinions! This is my FIRST try at an OC!