Name and Date of Death, Please…
By Redblackandwhite
So…this is a story concerning touchy subjects, like heaven. If you disagree with any of this, please feel free to flame me. I've needed some laughs for a while. Otherwise, enjoy the light-hearted, and sometimes crude, comedy. Oh, and sorry that there's a lot of Peter stuff near the beginning, I promise it's about Harry Potter. It's a bit dry here and there, but it will get much more HP-lovely.
For those who were wondering, my Kingdom Hearts story has had its chapters replaced with better content, though you haven't gotten notices for them. Enjoy them if you want.
Oh, and I don't own Harry Potter and all that jazz.
Cedric
Most people consider Death to be a very ominous subject. It is treated with a nervous delicacy and feared by all. Only those lacking a stable mind dabble within its boundaries, and few survive.
But for Saint Peter, Death is a 9 to 5 with crappy benefits and a source for daily migraines.
Basically, it's a bitch.
Drudging down the cloud path in the early morning Holy Sun, Peter yawned and scratched himself. The sound of his sandals hitting the faux pavement blocked out any noise coming from the Starbucks on the street corner to his right. A flock of souls were crowded in the place, waiting for their fix as they did everyday. The sight of the trendy building made him want his own cup of joe, but he hated lines.
He opened up his mouth, tilted his head back, and bellowed,
"NIGEL!"
His throat felt scratchy and by the end of the yelling he felt hoarse even, but he had achieved his goal.
"Yeeeessss, m'lady?"
A small Cupid-like figure appeared, fluttering next to him. It had loose, baby-like black curls on its head, and it gave Peter a sickly, though ultimately good-natured smile.
"Get me some coffee. I need some carcinogen liquid pronto."
"Sure thing. Looks like we've got some people lined up t'day."
"You always say that. Because there always is."
"And therefore I am infallible."
"And yet still without coffee."
The baby assistant disappeared as Peter turned the final corner and started down the last cobblestone street towards the gates of heaven. His office.
There were no sleezy, trendy shops on this street. There were just blankets of pink-orange clouds on each side, mostly for the whole grandiose haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Heaven thing.
He reached the towering golden gates (they were gold today, some days they were pearly. The bible people had to get something right at least) and took out his ring of keys. He moved towards the small keyhole on the right. The ring had a plethora of keys made of out various precious metals. Peter couldn't remember what half of them did.
Being the keyholder didn't mean much, seeing as most of the higher ups could just get through the door by themselves. He knew for a fact that some of the smaller keys didn't even do anything. They were just for decoration. That was Barthy's idea, seeing as Jesus didn't give him much to do around here. With good reason apparently.
The big gold key clicked in the hole and the giant groaning gates opened. Once the left gate had completed flattened against the wall, Peter's desk arose from nowhere. It was a fine cherry wood desk with plenty of drawers and no clutter. Peter sat down at the chair and groaned.
"I hate this fucking chair!"
His throat singed in pain even more as a lighting bolt struck in the distance. God did that every time someone cursed in Heaven. But He still let Peter do it. Peter was the only one able to do the gate job for two thousand years without asking for a raise.
Peter sat forward and turned on the lamp. As he pushed the button, a sound started coming from in front of him.
The escalator was on. Someone was coming.
Peter opened his top left drawer and took out paper and pencil. That was odd. Something was missing.
Looking up he saw a brunet teen walking forward, taking glances at the landscape.
Peter stretched in his chair, as uncomfortable as it was. The boy saw him, and decided that Peter was his only lead in the strange place. The boy walked up to the desk.
Peter clicked his pen.
"Sit please."
A rickety chair appeared behind the boy. The audible sound it made was sufficient for the boy to realize it was there. He sat.
Peter began in a very bored and practiced tone.
"Name?"
"Cedric Diggory."
"Date of death?"
There was a silence. Cedric stared at Peter, though the latter wasn't looking up.
"Ummm… June 24th, 1994."
"And how'd you die?"
Peter finally looked up. This was the only mildly interesting part.
"I…I dunno. Green light. Harry was there. Dark place. Some kinda church. Oh…."
The boy's eyes seemed to drift. He moaned.
"Owwwwwwww….."
Peter eyed him.
"I guess I was murdered. I…I dunno by who."
Poof
Nigel appeared by Peter's shoulder. Cedric jumped at the sight of the baby.
"Oi. Here's your buzz. And the paper on him."
Peter looked over his shoulder and took the cup from the baby, as well as a folder.
"Yes, I wondered where that was."
"Ya, seem's John wanted the delivery system to be changed, and Jesus said that was a grand idea, big surprise. Though now all of the information takes three times as long to get everywhere. Obviously Jesus knew this would happen, but he had to let things happen anyway."
"Of course."
Nigel left.
Peter glanced at the confused Cedric and then opened up his report. There was a picture of the boy paperclipped and all of the dry, boring information was there. But Peter wasn't going to make his decision just yet without a little fun.
"Ooookay. Cedric, died of Killing Curse. Ah, one of those wizards are you? Haven't had one for a while…Killed by Peter Pettigrew…"
Cedric piped up.
"But that man is dead."
"Ah…no he's not. For one, he killed you. Also, I would have already passed him through if he was, no?"
Peter threw on a false smile behind his scruffy dark beard before turning back.
"So Cedric, done anything bad lately?"
"Uhh…no?"
"Come on, pretty boy. Never stole anything? Never snuck into the girl's dorm in…Hufflepuff Tower? No one night of wonder?"
"No!"
The boy was indignant.
"Ever disobeyed your mother? Ever curse? Ever think naughty things? Come on! Gimme something!"
Peter was playing with him. All of those answers were on the pages he was holding. But this was the only good part of the job.
"NO!"
Cedric was red in the face, though still seated.
Peter stopped. He tapped the front of the desk and a section folded over, revealing three buttons.
"Okay kiddo, see these buttons? I've got your future on my hands. This green button…"
He pointed at the sickly green button on his left, Cedric's right.
"…gets you to the big house here. The red…"
The button on the right.
"…sends you to the kitchen. Sunscreen costs extra."
Cedric followed his hand.
"This middle one sends you to limbo. Not that stupid game with the stick. It's more like floating around forever without any kind of entertainment. No portable Yahtzee."
"Wh-why's it brown?"
Peter looked down. The middle button was brown.
"Because green and red make BROWN!"
"But…why don't you just have a blue one, a red one, and a purple one?"
"How the hell should I know? I didn't make the goddamn buttons!"
Peter took a sip of his coffee, which had splattered onto the desk when he stood up in rage.
Lightning struck in the distance.
Cedric stared at him. Peter sat and stared back.
"Fine. Green it is."
He slapped the button and the gates started to open. The one side avoided Peter's desk somehow as it passed.
"Uh…"
"What?"
Peter was already putting the wet paper away when he looked up.
"Can I go back down for a sec? I want Harry to take my….um…body…"
Peter groaned.
"Look, everybody askes for a few more minutes…"
"Well…it's really important."
"Well I can't really…"
Peter looked down at the paper once more, intent on shaking off this self-serving pretty boy, when he saw something circled in red on his dossier.
TO BE REANIMATED FOR 30 SECONDS
"Aw hell no…"
"What?"
Cedric looked at him again. He had been looking down in defeat before. Lighting struck again.
"Okay you lucky sonuvabitch. You get to go back in…forty seconds. But only to tell him that one thing. Got it?"
Lighting struck. Cedric looked ecstatic.
"O-okay!"
He turned around and ran towards where he had come from.
Peter sat back in his stone-like chair.
"I hate my job."
A/N: So…Cedric was pretty boring. But I'm doing it in order of death, so Sirius is next. Dumbledore might be fun.
R & R if you want, but I really couldn't care less.