"Christy! Christy, would you mind coming here, please?"
A tow-headed angel flew towards the cry, holding a quill and a roll of parchment in her hands. Being an angel did not only mean being supposedly mentally innocent, but physically as well; pearls were gleaming on her white dress, her eyes shined blue from behind her blond curls and her face was freckleless and as white as the clouds that surrounded her. She landed softly on the mackerel floor of the huge hall.
"Oh, Christy, what in heaven's name is going on here?!"
The creature, who spoke in a deep but nevertheless feminine voice, was wearing a black, torn hooded cloak. Christy could hear the hopeless despair in her tone. With her Scythe lying in front of her feet, the hooded figure was engaged in a conversation with Merlin on her mobile phone.
"I don't know, Morgana. I think some kind of a battle broke out or something," Christy replied.
The Reaper roared tremendously before putting her mobile back into her pocket.
"He can say no more than that; he'll put me through God after the conference finishes..." she muttered. "Listen, Christy, could you please try to get the upper hand on this situation? I should be lying on a beach now, slurping lemonade with beautiful men by my side, catering to my every whim and with a bunch of grapes in my hands."
Christy blinked, feeling helpless. Why should it be her responsibility to gain control of the situation instead of Morgana?! However, she decided to keep her opinion to herself and started to watch other angels bustling about around her instead.
"Remon Lupin, who the hell is Remon Lupin?!" a plump male angel groaned. "Can't find his name on the list!"
"Markus, please, stop stressing yourself..." an elderly angelwife wearing old-fashioned glasses murmured, trying to cheer him up.
"Stop stressing myself... stop stressing myself?! Oh, Clarissa! We haven't experienced so many dead and such chaos since those stupid nuclear bombs of the Muggles! There are as many of them as there are stars in the sky, or even more!"
"Markus, the man didn't say Remon Lupin, but Remus Lupin," Clarissa said softly. She took the parchment out of the slightly bewildered Markus's hands, looked for the stated name and then crossed it out with her red quill. "Please ask him the questions; Charlotte can do the rest."
Christy looked over the crowd in fear. Although the hall was ginormous, it was still absolutely full with people - and unfortunately not with spirits of Heaven. Even the angels who were off that day had been asked to come in and help, but there were just simply not enough of them due to the fact that many had asked for a vacation day in order to attend a football game (Catholics vs Protestants). These angels were clever enough to have their mobile phones turned off, making it impossible for anybody to contact them in case they were needed. Angels on duty also tried to reach the prophets, but they were all at a conference organized by the Association of All Sorts of Gods. Because the topic being discussed was undoubtedly important (Possibly the Upcoming Virgin Birth on Earth: the Netherlands or Kyrgyzstan?), they couldn't leave to help out the poor angels.
As soon as the fighting broke out unexpectedly, all angels had been asked to stop whatever they were doing (for instance, whitening clouds or consulting with the gods of aliens) and to come and help. But it did not really make a difference; they turned out to be extremely outnumbered by dead people regardless. Christy, Markus, Edward and Clarissa were trying to register all the newcomers with the help of two little black devils sent by Lucifer, while Milly, Emmanuel and Charlotte were attempting to find the departeds' relatives and friends. In the meantime, Morgana was running about, bossing everyone around and giving instructions.
All the rest of the angels were either busy cheering at the match or were already involved in something else important. For example, some guardian angels were on missions, while others were resting in order to be fresh and relaxed when they replaced their fellow angels, who were exhausted after a long day of work. It all went well normally; only three or four angels were usually needed at once in the reception hall and they could cope without any difficulties. Whenever there was a war going on or a great epidemic had started down on the Earth, they organized themselves to be more flexible.
But it was all different now; this battle hadn't been foretold. They were all working like house-elves, but still could not cope. As the number of newly dead increased, chaos started to grow; Christy was very close to crying.
"Please, don't leave me here, Morgana!" she begged the Reaper.
The hooded figure sighed deeply.
"My work is done here, Christy; I put my Scythe down... but if you can manage in this chaos, I'm pretty sure Merlin's gonna promote you to my job. Bye."
And then she disappeared with a loud pop.
Christy scratched her ear. She suddenly realized why it was her who had been asked to handle everything; she could be the next Reaper... well, that was something! It really was! Roger would be so proud of her!
But when she looked over at the crowd again, she could feel the fear coming up on her. Christy wasn't ready. Why was nobody here to grab the Scythe and give instructions?! Such chaos... They hadn't seen the battle coming; they were absolutely unprepared for it. Nobody had ever thought of the possibility of such a war- it shouldn't have even happened! She just couldn't cope with it...
Sighing deeply, Christy decided to first register a dead person, and then to call Merlin and ask for guidance. Maybe he would be more helpful to her than he was to Morgana.
"Your name?" Christy asked, spotting a guy with bright red hair.
"Fred. What's yours?"
Christy looked up from her piece of parchment. Her name? Why was he interested?
"And your last name?"
"Weasley. What's your name, little angel?"
Christy didn't answer, but ducked her head to hide the blush staining her cheeks. Fred seemed to have noticed it anyway; it made him smile broadly.
"Can you cast spells?" she asked.
Fred didn't answer; instead, he took out a wand and charmed beautiful lilies all around Christy... it made the little angel so confused that she almost lost her voice.
"Age?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"I'm twenty, and you can't be more than eighteen," the red haired wizard answered. "You've got bloody beautiful eyes, by the way."
Christy blushed again. What did he want - to get her?! Something like that had never happened before, at least not since she had started working as a welcoming angel. That occurred quite a long time ago; she had died of dragon pox at the very beginning of the Middle Ages and had started to work as a welcoming angel right after her death.
Well, that was only because she was not suitable for the post of a guardian angel... but still!
"Please, won't you tell me your name, dear angel?"
Christy gave up. No, she wouldn't ask for all the details about Fred... wand, birth place, circumstances of death... nothing. There wasn't time for it, anyway.
"Christy," she whispered without looking up from her toes. "Just call me Christy. OK?"
She lifted her face to look at Fred slowly and raised her eyebrows, waiting for an answer.
Oh, sex must be soooo enjoyable with him...
Wait, what? No, no, nooo, she already had somebody to love, somebody special! So how could she even think of the possibility of making love with someone else?!
"All right, Christy," Fred grinned. "So I've got this idea, you know-"
Oh, no... please, don't let him ask her out! She'd been with Roger for, like, a thousand years... well, it was going to be exactly one thousand years in two months. She did love Roger, but this guy... if he wanted to kiss her she definitely wouldn't resist, and that just wouldn't be right. She loved Roger; she should only snog with him!
Christy adjusted her halo straight, and quickly began to read the questions on the bottom of the parchment before Fred could finish his sentence.
"Favorite memory?"
Fred raised his eyebrows. He'd heard a few things about the bureaucracy of the so-called European Union of the Muggles, but this was by far worse than that. Its fine to ask for the names of the new people- it could be useful to know who was there- but honestly, what kind of question asked about his favorite memory?!
Christy looked at him, waiting for him to kiss her... No, not to kiss her, to answer her question. Oh, please, she prayed in her heart, terrified, oh please don't let him say that it was when he spotted me...
Fred didn't say so.
"Running off from Hogwarts with George. Guess what; Peeves saluted! Or maybe when we opened our shop. Or when we created our first fake wand! Oh yeah, and of course there was that time when mom-"
"Only one, please," Christy interrupted him.
"Listen, angel-"
A loud, shrill scream shot through the air.
"Markus! What is a snake doing here?!"
"It's dead, Milly. Can't hurt you anymore," Markus said in a rather bored tone.
Christy looked over and let out a scared cry at the sight of a gruesome mutant crawling out of a snake.
"Damn it, that's already the seventh fragment of a soul we've found in the last few months!" Clarissa snarled. "Edward, would you be so kind and take it to the records, then present it to the prophets? They have the other fragments with them already. They will do something about them after the conference finishes."
The soul-piece started to slither like a snake – it was more disgusting than anything Christy had ever seen before.
"Yuck," Fred summarized his opinion. "Christy, I'd like to ask you something."
He didn't get the chance to say what he wanted as Christy (having forgotten all about the lack of an answer to her previous question) asked him first.
"Your closest relationship on Earth?"
"With my twin, of course. And that's what I wanna talk about, Christy..."
"Worst memory?"
"Of dying."
Christy raised her eyebrows. Nobody had ever said that... Dying was easy; it wasn't even the slightest bit uncomfortable!
"Did it hurt you?" she asked unbelievingly, and then blushed in shame. She must do her job and nothing else! The chaos in Heaven had never been bigger... If dying was his worst memory, then that was alright; she could write it... Oh, when was this going to end?!
"No, no it didn't. I was just thinking of George, my twin, and that he-"
"For God's sake, Clarissa, stop hustling me!"
"Markus, please calm down. Take this quill and register that blond kid over there. Please."
The interlude distracted Christy. She barely listened to Fred talking about... what was it again? Something about his twin... Wow. Two Freds. And wow again. Two such beautiful men...!
She couldn't help it; she saw lots of red-haired and blue-eyed little angel-children in her mind's eye.
Think of Roger, she scolded herself.
But he's so handsome... and smart! And really kind...
Roger, Roger, Roger.
Black-haired children. The shining blue eyes are alright, but they'll have Roger's hair. He's going to be their father!
"Christy..." Fred said, tangling her straw-colored hair around his hands, causing Christy's stomach to flinch. "Let me go back to George, will you?"
She raised her eyebrows. It could not be done. The latest and only occasion when resurrection was permitted (for Lazarus, who else?) occurred only because Merlin, who has always been responsible for these kind of things, was chortling and dancing on top of a cloud; whatever he was asked, he agreed to with a giggle. Well, that only happened because God had been testing the effects of Cannabis Sativa on him, as one cannot just give something brand new to humankind. Did you see what happened after giving them alcohol?! It was thought to be somewhat unremarkable, and then alas!; teenagers are getting drunk, throwing up in the woods and doing…things.
We wish they were only throwing up and nothing more...
Well, anyway, Lazarus was extremely lucky to get such an answer ("Ah ha ha ha, I don't mind... why not?") for his hopeful question about his potentially upcoming resurrection. He was the only one so far to get permission for the impermissible. However, God learns from his mistakes. None of his employees have gotten high for ages; he's been testing everything on animals since that incident. There was such a big fuss about it when the first animal activists died and arrived in Heaven... they had wanted a coup, hoping someone else could become the new (animal-friendly) Almighty. It hadn't happen.
"Christy?"
The angel's thoughts turned back to the freckle-faced lad as quickly as a flash. She nearly swooned once she saw the sunlight glittering off of his bright red hair.
Well... she might be able to help him after all... nobody would notice. Maybe...
And those blueish grey eyes, aww...
Roger! Roger has beautiful eyes, Roger's hair glitters in the sunlight; Roger is the love of her life, not this boy! Only Roger!
"Christy? Will you help me?"
"I can't. You mustn't return," she said sadly, shaking her head.
There was a big fight that was breaking out during this very moment between the welcoming angels and one of the newcomers. A woman with long black hair was scratching, biting and kicking everybody around her, all the while screaming in an unbearably high-pitched voice.
"Me?! Me, the dearest servant of the Dark Lord... Don't you tell me I've died! Don't you dare touch me! Don't you-"
The Scythe let out a loud bang when it reached her head. If she'd been alive, she would have died now. But, she was already dead - and being so, she only let out a short cry as she softly fell to the ground and was carried away somewhere by Lucifer's devils. Christy thought they were taking her to Merlin so that he could have a word with her. Or perhaps they were about to introduce her to Lucifer. Or maybe to Freud - she could definitely use some psychotherapy, Christy thought.
She then had to stop thinking about it, because Fred started to talk.
"Please, please Christy, I'm asking you in desperation! You know that he needs me and I need him too. Please, let me go back!"
Christy nervously brushed through her hair with her fingers. In such chaos... no one would notice!
But why should she help him in the first place? He wasn't the first to ask for such a strictly forbidden favor, but he was the only one who made her at least think about it before saying no. It was against all the rules!
But he's so nice and cute!
Roger is cute. And nice.
Yeah, Roger... but so is Fred.
She covered her mouth with her fingers all of a sudden and stared at Fred, horrified. If he stayed, she was gonna cheat on Roger! No way would she could let that happen!
"Christy?" Fred spoke again.
The angel's eyes flashed madly.
"All right!" She whispered. She would burn the parchment with Fred's answers and it would be as if it had never existed.
Fred beamed at her.
"Thanks, Christy!" He whispered.
She took his hand (her stomach flinched again at his touch) and led him to one of the windows lining the hall. They leaned out and looked down - it was like looking into a Pensieve. They saw dead bodies in a crowded room; lots of people were standing around, not moving at all, and in the center two wizards were just about to begin their very last fight. They saw their wands flash, and then one of them collapsed on the floor. No sooner than that, Fred and Christy heard a distant yell.
"What the hell?! Now the eighth one is here; oh, for the sake of it!"
"Fred?" Christy looked up into his eyes shyly.
"Yeah, beautiful?"
Christy blushed. Roger had never called her beautiful.
"We must wait until nobody's watching. Then you may jump."
Fred gave her a smile and Christy smiled back at him. Yes, he should leave; it's for the best. Roger's a nice angel and she couldn't just cheat on him... couldn't break up with him to be with a complete stranger...
"Then we wait," Fred nodded.
And so they did.
Minutes and then hours passed. It was sunrise on Earth; noon came, and then evening...
"So how long do we need to wait here?" Fred asked impatiently. They were watching the sun as it set. "I don't wanna wake up in my coffin!"
"You can go now," Christy sniffed. She had noticed three opportunities for Fred to jump back to life, but preferred not to let him go... not yet. He was soooo nice... most of the newcomers were either nervous or puzzled, and some of them were arrogant, but never had anyone ever been so nice to her!
"Can I?" Fred asked, his beautiful eyes shining with happiness.
"Bye," Christy mumbled in a very low voice and pushed Fred out of the window.
As she watched the wizard's falling figure, Christy's eyes went all wet with tears at the thought of how easily one can forget about Roger's bum when it is compared to Fred's.