Harry Potter's Destinie

Alright guys, so here you have it. I've crammed the most Mary Sue traits that I could find into this story. This is not to be taken seriously! In a serious fic, I should hope to never write an OC like this. However, this was first of all for fun, and secondly so that if I ever write a story with an OC in it, I'll know what to stay away from. Please enjoy, and please note that not all of these are signs of a Mary Sue. Some things can be handled quite well, but most of the time they just fall flat. If anyone can list in a review all the Mary Sue traits they win a cookie! Take good care.


Harry couldn't believe his eyes. A girl had just swept into the Library; a girl that he had never met before. Her long, blonde hair reached well past her waist, and he noticed that the tips were dyed the most shocking of pinks. Her eyes were bright blue, and her skin was tanned. Harry observed her body, taking note of its wonderful shape. This girl was simply beautiful.

He had barely begun to watch her when she came and sat down next to him.

"Hi," she said in a sweet voice. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all," Harry replied. "I'm Harry Potter."

"I'm Destinie," she said. "Destinie Johnson."

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione said from Harry's side. "Pleased to meet you."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron mumbled. His face was red, and he was clearly nervous in front of such a lovely girl.

"I've never seen you here before," Harry remarked.

"Oh, I just moved here," she explained brightly. "I'm an exchange student from the United States. I used to live in Miami."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked, fascinated. "It must be quite a cultural shock to move here, then."

"Not really," she said, shaking her head. Harry noticed that as she did so, her luxurious hair swung about: he would love to touch it. He realized in horror that he was perhaps falling in love with Destinie. "I mean, other than the fact that I can't surf, it's all the same."

"You used to surf?" Harry asked, impressed.

"I still do," she said, revealing a row of perfectly straight, white teeth. "My uncle still brings me to the beach once in a while to practice."

"Why not your parents?" Ron asked.

Destinies' eyes turned to the floor as tears filled those perfect eyes. "Voldemort killed my parents when I was just born."

They all gasped in alarm. How could such a thing happen to this sweet, innocent girl? Harry felt anger rise inside himself, and he knew that he wanted to kill Voldemort for doing such a thing.

"What a hard life you must have led," Harry said. He knew how it felt to lose one's parents.

"It's okay," she smiled. "I do well in school. I've actually been pushed up quite a few grades, so that works out nicely. And I've been modelling and playing tennis since I was six."

Everyone, especially Hermione, was stunned.

"That's incredible, Destinie," said Ron.

"Oh, just call me Desty," she said. "That's what my friends call me."

-o-

As the weeks went on, the trio became very good friends with Destinie. She was in all of their classes, and so it was very easy for them to spend time with her. She helped Harry practice Quidditch, gave Ron answers for his homework, and gave Hermione the best hair tips. They soon learned that Destinie's hair was so long and silky because she was, in fact, a half-Veela.

One day, as they were sitting in the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy approached them.

"Hey, Destinie," he called out.

The girl in question swung around, eyes turning from an icy blue to a dark turquoise in a matter of seconds. The trio knew that this meant that the girl was not happy.

"What?" she snapped. She had learned since the beginning of the year that Malfoy was not a good person.

"Why haven't you been sorted?" he asked.

She looked at the ground, ashamed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew the truth: though Destinie had attempted to put on the Sorting Hat and be sorted into a House, the Hat could not pick a single House for her to belong to. She was both intelligent, cunning, brave, and hardworking. She had all of the traits, and it couldn't make up its mind. The Hat did however think that she most belonged in Gryffindor, and so she went to all the classes with them.

"None of your business," she shot back.

"And why do you speak in that American accent?" he demanded. "It's horrible."

She burst into tears and rushed out of the Great Hall. The trio ran after her, aware that most of the student population was glaring angrily at Malfoy: they all had come to love Destinie, given the wonderful girl that she was, and this made them dislike Malfoy greatly. Even some of the Slytherins were staring him down with anger in their eyes.

"Malfoy's just jealous because of how well you play Quidditch, Desty," Harry said. He took her in his arms and began to rock her, kissing her all the while. The two had become quite close, and it wouldn't be long before Harry asked her out.

"You don't understand," she choked. "Malfoy is my brother."

They all stared at her.

"That's impossible," said Ron. "We've met his parents."

She shook her head and said, "Those are actually my aunt and uncle. We got separated when my parents died, and he moved to Britain to be raised by them. He knows we're brother and sister, but he won't admit it."

They all were furious.

"If I tell you something, please don't tell anyone," she whispered. They all nodded. "The truth is, we were killed because we're the long-lost descendents of Salazar Slytherin. But Voldemort didn't want to admit that, since me and Draco are both half-bloods, and so he meant to kill us." Her eyes flashed turquoise again. "But he didn't manage. Someone helped us out of the house just in time."

"We won't let him kill you," Harry assured her before kissing her lips softly. As she pulled away, she smiled in appreciation.

"Let's go outside for a walk," Ron offered.

They agreed and headed outdoors. It was quite a lovely day, what with the sun shining brightly and a faint breeze tickling them. They had barely stepped past the great oak doors when Snape came towards them.

"What are you three doing?" he demanded.

"Nothing," Destinie said. They all cringed: such disrespect could get them in deep trouble.

To their amazement, Snape said nothing. He merely nodded, grinning slightly at Destinie, and then continued to walk into the castle.

Everyone truly did love Destinie, and the trio could easily understand why.

-o-

The next months passed normally. They all did well in their classes since Destinie helped them with their homework, they were winning the Quidditch Cup (Destinie was allowed to play for whatever House she wanted and so she played for Gryffindor), and Harry and Desty were in love.

The only thing wrong was Malfoy. Finally, Destinie had enough, and one night, she went to talk to him.

"Malfoy," she said, "I've had enough. You know I'm your sister, so please act like it."

"No," he said. They were standing outside, near the Quidditch Pitch, and so he walked away from her as quickly as possible.

"Please," she called, running towards him. "At least talk to me once in a while."

'Never!" he yelled. He ran to the shack holding brooms and selected one, flying away.

But Destinie wasn't about to give up, as she was a very determined girl. She looked in the shack, and, to her amazement, found a Firebolt. She sat herself onto it and kicked off. Given that her flying skills were superb, she was soon flying next to Draco.

"I love you, Draco," she said, tears falling down her face. "You're my brother."

But Malfoy's eyes were wide in fear. "Destinie, look out!"

He made to soar next to her in order to block the spell coming towards her, but it was too late: she had been hit by Avada Kedavra. Luckily, Snape and McGonagall had been outside at the time, and so they ran towards Voldemort and chased him off with various spells before Malfoy could be harmed.

-o-

The funeral was hard on the entire school. Everyone was crying, because they had all loved Destinie. Ron and Hermione were beside themselves, but of course, no one was as sad as Harry. She had been his girlfriend, and he was in love with her. He knew what he had to do. Her death had given him the courage to face Voldemort, and he knew that nothing else could have.

He left the castle and went to where he knew Voldemort was: an underground lair in Diagon Alley. He knew this because Desty had told him some time ago.

"Voldemort!" he roared.

Voldemort appeared, smirking. "Harry Potter, how pleased I am to see you."

Before he could so much as step forward, Harry thought of Destinie's perfect smile, beautiful eyes, and wonderful personality, and screamed, "Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort lay dead on the floor.