Summary: Draco dies in a Quidditch accident but is denied entrance to heaven. St. Peter refuses to open the gates of heaven and tells Draco he's going to hell, refusing to go Draco manages to make a deal with the guardian and gets sent back to earth to fulfill a mission to gain back his right to eternal rest. If he refuses to fulfill it then it's hell that awaits him, too bad Peter didn't remember to tell Draco what he was suppose to do.

Pairing: D/H, H/G, R/L

Rated M: nudity, sexual reference and some bad language. I don't think there will be a lemon in this fic.

Reference: I refer to the ladder theory a lot in here as a joke, to view the principle if you are unaware please visit this site, it's a bit sexist but the base of it is true, scary but true, just take out the spaces: http:// www .laddertheory .com/

Reference: the song at the end is by Blue October, called What if we could.

Warning:

I sort of make fun of religion in this fic. I'm not the religious type as my beliefs about it are VERY loose and I don't believe in half the things it preaches because I can't stand double standards and hypocrites, but I do know that for some people it is a very sacred thing so I apologise in advance if I may offend certain people. Just take it with a grain of salt if you will.

Gates to Heaven

Part one: funny thing called death

It really, really, REALLY sucked to be him right now! The day had started off so nice and promising too. He had gotten up in his huge bed of silk and feather pillows to the smell of fresh croissants and coffee alongside his newspaper in bed. He had a hot rose-salted bath and dressed in expensive designer-wizard robes. His stocks where up 5 points, and in just a few short days, his rivals stocks would be low enough to buy out the company. Oh, yes the day had looked promising indeed and he had agreed to play Quidditch with his friends at his private pitch. It had been a breathtaking game, he mused standing on the grass as a scowl graced his pointed face.

Then there had been just one small problem, miniscule really. Crabbe had hit a bludger too hard and it had gone in the wrong direction. And now he was stuck with the mother of all questions: how the hell could he be lying there when he was clearly standing here?

Sure, he had taken a bludger to the head and had plummeted 10 stories down, face first onto the ground but he felt fine! Hell, he felt better than fine!

"Oh my gods, Drakey baby!" Pansy screeched as she raced down, jumping off her broom.

Merlin, he hated that nickname, he thought half cringing. He would have dumped her long ago if it wasn't for her blood, great rack and backyard. Curse that stupid ladder theory and Pansy being the best looking inbred witch he could get his dick into at the moment.

"Honestly Pans, I'm fine."

"Nott go Floo the hospital quickly, Pansy get some towels from the house and tell Mrs. Malfoy there's been an accident." Blaise ordered curtly as he flew from his position at the goal post.

"Guys I'm right here, hellooooo!" Draco yelled losing his patience at being ignored. "Pansy don't you dare go scare my moth-"

Draco stopped short as Pansy ran for the house, actually she ran right through him . . . WHAT. THE. HELL!

"I swear I didn't mean to hit it that way," Crabbe said in an odd queasy tone.

Goyle dismounted alongside him, his complexion turning slightly green at the sight of the broken face on the ground.

Draco walked a little closer and couldn't stop the shiver that traveled down his spine. That was definitely not a pretty sight. They where all milling around the Draco on the ground yet couldn't hear him, see him and apparently ran right through him!

"Fuck, he's not breathing," Blaise growled.

Draco watched his best mate tipped his – Draco that is – head back and opened his mouth as he pinched his nose.

"Hey, don't you dare do that to me . . . eewwwww," Draco started screaming but couldn't stop the gagging noises he was making as Blaise's lips descended on his own several times to try and breath air in his friend's lungs.

He was so going to disinfect his mouth afterwards, how could Blaise violate him in such a way! And just as he thought things couldn't get any more humiliating chaos ensued. Pansy came dashing from the house with what looked like every single towel the Manor possessed, and oh Merlin, his mother trailing behind her. Next, the healer's appeared by his side not a moment later. It was all a buzzing frenzy as his – he gulped – body was taken away to St. Mungo's to be reanimated. He stepped toward them to follow but found himself being pulled and disappearing into a bright light.

Part two: St. Nutter, guardian of the gates to heaven

Draco stepped up to a long queue of men, women and children. All of them had one thing in common he supposed, they were all dead. He looked to the man in front of him and then to the woman who had just arrived.

"So what are you in for?" the man asked, clearly a Muggle.

"Sporting accident," Draco said haughtily.

"Ah, I'm here for a heart attack, I bet the bitch never saw this one coming."

"Pardon?" Draco replied; a bit shocked at the man's vulgarity.

"I caught my wife cheating. The shock gave me a heart attack and I keeled over on them. Quite hilarious to hear her screaming like that, and their faces . . .! Damn, but it was priceless!"

Draco couldn't decide whether he should be appalled at the man's indifference to his death and mannerism or if he should laugh at the picture it painted. He settled for strained indifference.

He watched and waited for something to happen but obviously the master of the place was in no hurry to make an appearance. Finally, after some time and 20 more new arrivals in the queue there was a shimmering cloud at the front of the assembly that took the form of a long-haired, white-bearded man in an old frock.

"Alright, My name is St. Peter and when I call your name you'll receive judgement and then you'll go to either Heaven or Hell . . . yadda yadda yadda . . . for X amount of years to serve out your punishment . . . bla bla bla . . . does anyone have any questions?" he called out in a bored tone.

Many of them raised their hands.

"No? Perfect!" Peter said in fake enthusiasm.

It was clear the man had this job for far too long as it clearly bored the hell out of him. St. Peter called out name after name, children where automatically sent to Heaven under the guise that right and wrong was knowledge gained through experience and parent's teachings. Anyone older then 10 years of age was subjected to punishment because it was assumed that by this age people would have enough knowledge to decipher right from wrong.

Finally, after what seemed like months Draco's name was called. He slowly stood up from where he had slouched on the ground in utter boredom and strolled up to the front, nose in the air.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy, 650 years of Hell. Next, we have Miss-"

"Wait a bloody minute! Hell? I refuse to accept that. What have I ever done to get sent down there, let alone for 650 bloody years?!?" Draco yelled in alarm and anger at the insult to his person.

Peter sighed heavily, rolling his eyes as he went from his list of names to the files at his side.

"Hmm, let's see, let's see . . . Aha here we are. Draco Lucius Malfoy. Age 24. Wizard. Single. Still lived with parents. Has only had 2 sexual partners, one Miss Parkinson and one Miss Greengrass, but has claimed the contrary even going so far as to start a rumour about being a sex god in your 5th year. No real close friends and no love interests. Actually, never fallen in love for that matter. Moving on . . . Extremely prejudiced to non purebloods. Has a ridiculous belief in something called 'a ladder theory' where every woman is not good enough for you yet you are more than good enough for them . . . bla bla bla, ah here we are – offences. Oh dear, this isn't a very pretty page," he droned out in fake seriousness. The man was far too cheerful as he continued detailing the charges.

Draco was starting to see red. This fool had just blabbed his life in front of an assembly of dead people who were about to go to Heaven or Hell. As far as he was concerned this was Hell! He had never been so publicly humiliated in his life! Draco opened his mouth to give the man a piece of his mind but the other quickly began speaking again.

"Draco Malfoy, you are charged with breaking the following commandments: Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. You have used His name in vain on exactly 874 counts in the past year alone, some of which was cleverly disguised I might add, even going so far as to substitute 'God' for 'Merlin.'" Peter ploughed on seeing Draco was about to protest "Remember the 'thou keep holy the Lord's day'? Well, honestly we can just let this one slide because no one obeys it anymore. Let's see, oh yes: Thou shalt not kill. Hmm, you my boy have been directly and indirectly responsible for over 25 deaths and attempts at death-"

"I've never heard of anything so preposterous! My hands are clean!" Draco protested loudly.

"Really??? Then do tell me what you did to try and save the people who were killed in your Manor by one Tom Marvolo Riddle, otherwise known as Voldermort and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Or better yet, when you purposefully fixed that forsaken cupboard and let individuals known as Death Eaters into a school filled with children with the purpose of killing? You have also stood by and watched the torture of several individuals throughout your life and did nothing about it, even when you where old enough to understand it was wrong."

"I was 17 at the time and he threatened my mother yo-" Draco replied.

"Excuses, nothing but excuses, dear boy. The only thing that could remotely save you was that brilliant act of compassionate cowardice when they caught Mr. Potter and asked you to identify him and his friends. Now let's move on shall we? Oh yes: Thou shalt not steal and Thou shalt not bear false witness. You, Mr. Malfoy, seem to be allergic to being honest or should I say, you're only honest when it can profit you. Oh and my favourite: Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's goods. Yes, this is another one you seemed to have problems with."

Draco was floored. He was a Slytherin for go- . . . wait . . . Merl . . . argh . . . fuck's sake; it was in his nature to be devious and sneaky plus he was Malfoy to boot. Malfoy's always had the best of everything no matter what it was!

"6 of out of 10 commandments broken and you've also committed every single one of the deadly sins as well. I think that's a record. Dear, dear, dear: sloth, gluttony, wrath, avarice, envy, vanity and lust; though this last one isn't so bad is it?" he said giving the young man a wink, Draco cringed. "Yes well, to Hell with you boy. You'll be down there for 50 years per sin to pay off your bad deeds so good day. I'm late for my rematch with that idiot Michael, he won't beat me again, he and those other 3 Archs can finally stuff it I promise you that!"

"I'm being sent to Hell and you're worried about some stupid game!" Draco sneered indignantly.

"Oh pish-posh, you're not the first one to go down there and you're definitely not the last one. Get over it, take it like a man, endure the torture, fire and brimstone, come back to Heaven and then get reincarnated so you can go lean the lesson you where meant to learn in this life but were to arrogant and stupid to do. Just be glad I'm not giving you an added 5 years for every life killed by your wand."

Draco wanted to strangle the man, 'it's just hell' he says. 'Endure 650 years worth of torture, fire and brimstone' he says. So fucking hilarious! No, Draco wouldn't accept that. No, there had to be a way out of it, there was no bloody way he was going down there!

"Oh do say hello to Lucifer for me. Let him know that I'll contact him about getting together for our Scrabble rematch. Now, I really must be sending you off so I can take care of the others. I need to get ready for that game," Peter exclaimed waving him off with a smile.

"Wait! You said something about a lesson I had to learn . . . can't I go back and learn it? Do good deeds here and there, and then be done with it? No hell just straight to Heaven?" Draco half-pleaded.

"Hmm, I don't know . . . I suppose so. It's been a while since I let someone try and buy their way into Heaven with a second chance. However, I am feeling particularly benevolent and I'm still ticked off at Lucifer for beating me at the last angel versus demons Twister challenge. Oh, alright off to earth you go!"

"No wait, what am I suppose to lear-"

But before Draco could finish his question, Peter sent him hurling towards earth.

"Well that's that. Now, who's next?" Peter asked as he picked up his long list of dead people.

Part three: why me?

Hermione sang to her radio as she finished rinsing out her Fructis Shampoo.

"What if we could, put our lives on, hold and meet some, where inside of the world, I would meet you, would you meet me? 2, 3, 4," She sang in her sweet, strong and lovely voice, as she uncapped her conditioner. "On a park bench, on a skyscraper, on a mountain oh yeah, whatever it takes. I would meet you, would you meet me?"

She never noticed the light flicking as she closed her eyes so as not to get conditioner in them.

"I'm glad to say that we've met, but I'm sad to say that the circumstances weren't on our side. So go on, go on be your own, go on be your own star. What if we could? Where would we go? If it felt right, would you want me to know? I would meet you, would you meet me."

She wiped the water out of her eyes and drew the curtain back, ready to reach for a towel when she notice a silhouette in the fog. Slowly the silhouette became more and more defined as the music continued to drone on in the background. Hermione watched in morbid fascination as long, pale limbs appeared. Blond medium-length hair sprouted as silver-grey eyes slowly opened.

Hermione's jaw dropped as the finishing touches appeared over the person standing before her, his own eyes popping out of his head at the sight of her young, naked, wet body. Hermione let out a shrill scream that was soon copied by the young man before her; she wasted no time in throwing the curtains closed and covering herself with her hands, wishing she had her wand so she could send the ferret back to his still-warm grave.