A Harry Potter Fanfic…
We do not own Harry Potter
Dumbledore was surprised to say the least. Severus Snape, the potions whiz he had taken under his wing so long ago, had turned on him. After ignoring Minerva's many protests and snide remarks, not to mention multiple student complaints, he had started to think the whole world was in need of therapy. Snape was a Potions Master for a reason, and he spied for the side of good during the war. How would he not be trustworthy?
Then it turned out everything he knew and thought went down the toilet. Good going Albus, real good.
Still, ever the optimist, Dumbledore picked himself up off the misty floor with a twinkle in his eye. He was ready to begin the next greatest adventure! Death wouldn't be a hindrance to a great wizard like him now, would it?
The old dead man patted himself down, noting he wore the same outfit he died in, and snagged some lemon drops from his pocket. It was a rather depressing atmosphere, dim white lighting and wet mist everywhere. Dumbledore couldn't even see five feet in front of himself. Undeterred the former headmaster started walking, lemon flavored candies easily accessible should he meet another person.
"Excuuuuse me? And where do you think you're going?" A heavily American accented voice asked from behind. Dumbledore, still smiling, turned to see something he was not expecting.
Behind him stood a dark skinned woman wearing white lip stick with a tank-top and mini-skirt that hugged her body a little too much. She had no shoes, but a pair massive hawk wings that stretched out menacingly. Crossing her arms, the woman leaned over to stared directly into the twinkling eyes. Glass beads in her hair clinked as she snorted at the now defunct mortal.
"Hello Miss. Are you a harpy? I had thought you're particular species was extinct, but then again they do have mastery over death and necromancy…have I been revived?"
The woman blinked owlishly before snickering. Wizards and witches, all the same stupid brand of humans. She righted herself before flicking back one of her cornrows and addressing the man. "You are dead. No one is going to be resurrecting you punk self, and you should follow me. I'll over look the Harpy comment, I'm not old, I am an Angel."
This time it was Dumbledore's turn to laugh, though his was much more goodnatured. "Dear, Angels do not exist. It has been proven time and again. Obviously you're a harpy, and a dead one. It's best if we accept it right off."
The woman, angel, was starting to get annoyed. Taking the advice of her superior she spun, grabbing the old man by the neck and lifting him up. He wasn't going to be happy anyway. "Listen well, you've died wizard. You're currently in Purgatory. I'm taking you to the office where Peter will sort you're ass."
Dumbledore rubbed his neck as she lowered him, he plump backside stalking away in righteous dignity. He hurried to catch up, as everything had started to blur. Peter? Who was Peter? Peter Pettigrew? Where was Merlin?
Soon they came to a long line, which contained muggles and magicals alike. There were even a few giants that he could see standing passively. It was a little…odd.
"Here." The woman pointed at the end of the line. Dumbledore moved into position.
"What exactly am I to do?"
"Wait. When you get to Peter, it'll all come clear." Laughing, the woman launched herself into the air, her form lost among the mist.
"Well that was certainly different." He hummed while sucking on his candy, and decided to talk to the man ahead of him. "Hello sir. How are you?"
The man turned, a muggle it was clear, took one look at Dumbledore's outrageous clothing and rolled his eyes. "You're either insane or a magician. Don't talk to me."
Confused, Dumbledore started to pry. He kept questioning the man, asking about the few muggle traditions he kept up with like football and movie stars, when the man screamed. He hauled back his fist and made to punch the old wizard, when the angle from before returned. This time she was chatting with a skinny little girl, but handed her a coloring book before heading over to the men. "What's the problem here?"
"Thank the maker…" The muggle muttered and respectfully turned to the winged woman. "This, person, has been bugging me since he came. He asked me how I died! He told me this was some great adventure and to embrace death! He won't shut up! I just want to enjoy my afterlife but he won't be quite! And his eyes! He freaking looks like he's about to…"
"That's enough!" The angel waved her hands. "They're children in the vicinity." She turned smoldering eyes to Dumbledore. "You! Can't leave well enough alone eh? Don't like being out of the loop? Then come on!" Nodding to the muggle, she grabbed the old wizards wrist and marched away. Though it wasn't exactly protocol, the Lord was everywhere and knew everything. He wouldn't mind dealing with a troublemaker.
"Miss. You really ought to calm down. It's simply not good for you to be so high strung."
"High strung…if we were on earth my voice alone would crack you're skull. I'd have to use telekinesis to talk to ya." The angel flapped her wings and took a relaxing breath. "Lord. May we have an audience with you?"
She jerked Dumbledore down into the knealing position, which he promptly rose from. A strange warmth spread though the area, and mist cleared. At the sight of pure absence Dumbledore felt a headache coming on, as there was no floor, nothing to separate the ground from the sky. He was wishing the concealing mist would return.
"I am."
Two words was all it took for Dumbledore to throw himself down. Pure power flowed over the place, like a generator had been turned on. "What was that?"
The woman said nothing. She didn't have to. He knew all that was, is, and would be. He was the timeline.
"Albus Dumbledore. You do not accept death."
"Yes, I do. This is the next adventure after all."
Everything was getting hotter. Dumbledore took of his stupid hat. "Death is not an adventure. It never was. It's the ending of an adventure…coming home."
The old wizards ears pounded. The voice was far stronger than any spell. "Sir, may I inquire as to who you are?"
"I am."
"Don't be silly. Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself, and I do not fear bodiless voices." Dumbledore chuckled, missing the seriousness of his situation. The angel quietly bowed her head and left, deciding she didn't want to witness the trainwreck about to occur.
"Albus Dumbledore, what do you think of Jesus of Nazerath?" The question was innocent enough, but it would make or break the man. He just didn't know it.
"Jesus? He was some silly muggle playing at being a wizard. Even Merlin couldn't walk on water."
"Actually, I had some shinobi training when I was little." Albus whipped his head around, surprised to see a young man sneak up on him. "Father left. Well, he's not really gone, he's all around us, but his attention has left." The man's eyes softened. "It's sad that you've been damned, you're heart was in the right place after all."
"What are you talking about?"
The man introduced himself as Jesus Christ, his eyes not twinkling but holding a feeling of love Dumbledore had only seen in mothers. "You're sins haven't been cleansed. You've been cast into hell." The temperature was increasing exponentially. "The problem is, you can't see past magic. You don't believe that there is a higher power and a greater purpose."
"I have fought my whole life on the side of good! What sins can you possibly be thinking of." As the surroundings slowly became more defined, and heated, Dumbledore was starting to worry. Maybe death wasn't such a good thing. "If being a wizard is so terrible why are so many of us born with the ability!"
Jesus just shook his head, knowing that the man before him would never understand but he would tell him anyway. "It's not. You see when a person is born, they have a gift. It's these gifts that are supposed to be used to help human kind, to share them with the world and bring others to God. You have done the opposite of that. Most wizards and witches discover their gift and then harness it, to use for their own gain. They turn away from the Father thinking that the magical power proves the Lord does not exist.
"And you've done worse than that. You purposely search out and find others with similar gifts, some would have grown up to be great healers and priests had they been left alone. You bring them to a school and teach them that everything they knew was wrong. I said long ago what would happen to those that would lead children away from me…"
Dumbledore looked around, sweating like there was no tomorrow. For him, there wouldn't be.
PWNAGE!
A/N- I am not hating on HP. I actually like the series, it just stuck in my head one time, why can't their be god and magic? Why do authors tend to destroy a characters belief in religion when they get special powers, or not mention it at all? Anywho. There's a running joke among my friends, (who are almost all avid Naruto fans and Christian) that Jesus was a medic nin. I couldn't help but put it in.