Harry Potter and the Boy From NoWhere
Around the time that Harry Potter defeated Voldemort without even
knowing how to say "mum," The Angels in Heaven were rejoicing. It was not
to be confused, however, with genuine happiness, oh no. This was that
happiness of resentful, almost Dursley-like relief.
"Maybe they'll shut up, for once," was probably that least derogatory things said about the wizard world. "I heard that the blast reflected of his drool!" was probably the most common thing, said to imply that Voldemort was an idiot that was lucky to kill one person, never mind full families, and that the whole wizard race was so weak that it needed a yearless child to free them from oppression.
The Angels above did not care much for the wizards. They saw them as arrogant, unhelpful, and snobbish. Angels hated the world "muggle," thinking of it as wizards think of "mudblood." To the Angels, there were humans, and there were wizards, and they were no better than Lucifer as far as the highest angels, Seraphim, were concerned. The Humans were quite obviously the greater race. They built buildings that scraped the sky, they were planning on what to do if the world was in peril, and they were the ones making sure the world was in one piece.
And then there were the wizards, playing a sport that seemed more dangerous than soccer, US football, baseball, and hockey combined. The face- off alone was always a tense moment above the clouds, mainly because there was a pot full of angelic money that would go to the person who guessed the first person to lose an eye in the face off. "friggin broom sticks flying at un-Godly speeds straight towards one another," said Ariel every single face-off, "it's no wonder Jehovah didn't let Voldemort kill them all."
No, the Angels didn't like the wizards at all, and that's why on the day of Voldemort's defeat there was cheering in heaven. Every Angel let out a huge sigh of relief (these breaths became the no-name storm that in 1992, destroyed the New England coast, where Salem is located. This also is seem as a Heavenly triumph.), and returned to their normal posts, as guardian angels.
There was one figure in Heaven, however, who unconditionally loved the wizards, and it was no other than the Big One Himself, Jehovah. Always quiet, and usually outspoken, Jehovah listened intently to the arguments against wizard-kind by each of his top Seraphim, the Ten Sephiroth. After nine of the ten Sephiroth finished their arguments with Jehovah, one last Seraph remained, Michael.
Michael was tall and strapping, as was the norm among angels. He was well built, had burning midnight-blue eyes and golden hair that flowed as if it were submerged in water. His wingspan was an impressive 25 feet of gold and platinum shine. It was this Seraph who came to God with his simple argument:
"I'm the top Seraph, and as convincing as my colleagues have been, none of the wizards have touched my humans, and if a wizard has harmed or killed any of my colleagues' subjects, then I would have to say it's because of poor guarding. You made them for a reason, which is lost on the rest of us, but you know it's full purpose. If you want to keep them, then by all means, keep them."
"And it came to pass," was written in the Book of Time-the book that kept track of every event on Earth and every decision made in Heaven--"that Jehovah kept wizard-kind."
Shortly after leaving The Pillar of Jehovah (where contact was made with Him), and after ignoring several growls by his nine cohorts, Michael decided that a visit to his current guarded subject would be appropriate. He crossed the Pearled Gates, told St. Peter he'd be gone for "about three weeks unless called back" and set off to the Staircase.
On the walk down the Stairway of Heaven, Michael passed two KKK members, in full robes and laughing.
"I knew we were right all along! I knew it!"
Michael smiled and embraced the two, "welcome to the afterlife, your future with the angels awaits you!" Michael conveniently forgot to mention that they'd be with the Fallen Angels in Hell. It was a common practical joke to let white supremacists walk all the way up Heaven to meet St. Peter to hear their fate. The joke never got old, since Peter was black.
Michael guided his way to London, where John Soleil, his current subject was out with his friends buying school supplies for his next year at school. John had been Michael's favorite in his Billions of years of being an angel. John seemed to be well aware of Michael's presence, and actually talked to and heard Michael replying. Never had Michael had such a connection.
Back in Heaven, however, the nine other Sephiroth stood at the book of Time. Gabriel, Michael's closest friend, held a quill and read as the words appeared in gold on the paper.
"Sirius confronts Peter. Peter screams at Sirius. John Soleil sees two men in an alley way. Sirius calms Peter down. Peter lowers his wand." Gabriel looked at the other angels and they all sadly nodded. "It's for your own good, Mike, I hope you can understand."
And with that, Gabriel dipped the quill in the gold in a started to write. "Peter suddenly becomes scared. Peter's fear turns to anger. John draws closer to the alley way."' In silver writing, which denoted an Angel's actions appeared, "Michael tries to withdraw John." Gabriel wrote faster, "John keeps heading forward. Peter raises his wand at the crowd. Peter yells at Sirius. Peter turns to animagi form just after casting destruction spell." Gabriel saw that Sirius had somehow removed Peter's finger, and started to put the quill back, but then took it back and wrote one more thing down, "'blast hits squarely where John stands."' He placed the quill back in the endless gold ink, and looked for support from his colleagues. Uriel, another Sephiroth put his arm around Gabriel's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Michael never has to know."
~`*-+-*'~
Michael didn't move for what seemed like ages. Huddled over the body of John, replaying the event in his mind over and over again, he was so preoccupied with John's death, he didn't even bother to keep the living from seeing him. It was no bother really, they would probably never see him again, and although his appearance was somewhat...impossible, they'd probably forget him as some punk kid with spike hair. He finally left Michael's side when the medics took his mangled body away. He slowly made his way back up to Heaven, passed Peter--who thought Michael would get a kick out of the horrified look on the Klan member's faces--and into his private quarters in Heaven. There he sat for days on end, until finally came Gabriel.
"I know you must be hurting, and you know that you did nothing wrong in guarding John, it was that wizards who did this."
Michael never turned his head, he just muttered, "leave," and that was the end of it.
It was not soon after Gabriel left that Jehovah came to see Michael. He never said a word to Michael, he just let him speak: "I want those arrogant maggots of my planet. I don't care how, I just want their virus eradicated from Earth." Jehovah fatherly comforted Michael, "The non-wizards have their killers too, Michael, it just as easily could cave been one of them."
Michael thought back to his last image of John, writhing in pain, screaming for it to stop. He closed his eyes and said to himself. "So send me to live with Lucifer, I'll never help wizard-kind ever again."
It was Jehovah who already knew this wasn't true.
"Maybe they'll shut up, for once," was probably that least derogatory things said about the wizard world. "I heard that the blast reflected of his drool!" was probably the most common thing, said to imply that Voldemort was an idiot that was lucky to kill one person, never mind full families, and that the whole wizard race was so weak that it needed a yearless child to free them from oppression.
The Angels above did not care much for the wizards. They saw them as arrogant, unhelpful, and snobbish. Angels hated the world "muggle," thinking of it as wizards think of "mudblood." To the Angels, there were humans, and there were wizards, and they were no better than Lucifer as far as the highest angels, Seraphim, were concerned. The Humans were quite obviously the greater race. They built buildings that scraped the sky, they were planning on what to do if the world was in peril, and they were the ones making sure the world was in one piece.
And then there were the wizards, playing a sport that seemed more dangerous than soccer, US football, baseball, and hockey combined. The face- off alone was always a tense moment above the clouds, mainly because there was a pot full of angelic money that would go to the person who guessed the first person to lose an eye in the face off. "friggin broom sticks flying at un-Godly speeds straight towards one another," said Ariel every single face-off, "it's no wonder Jehovah didn't let Voldemort kill them all."
No, the Angels didn't like the wizards at all, and that's why on the day of Voldemort's defeat there was cheering in heaven. Every Angel let out a huge sigh of relief (these breaths became the no-name storm that in 1992, destroyed the New England coast, where Salem is located. This also is seem as a Heavenly triumph.), and returned to their normal posts, as guardian angels.
There was one figure in Heaven, however, who unconditionally loved the wizards, and it was no other than the Big One Himself, Jehovah. Always quiet, and usually outspoken, Jehovah listened intently to the arguments against wizard-kind by each of his top Seraphim, the Ten Sephiroth. After nine of the ten Sephiroth finished their arguments with Jehovah, one last Seraph remained, Michael.
Michael was tall and strapping, as was the norm among angels. He was well built, had burning midnight-blue eyes and golden hair that flowed as if it were submerged in water. His wingspan was an impressive 25 feet of gold and platinum shine. It was this Seraph who came to God with his simple argument:
"I'm the top Seraph, and as convincing as my colleagues have been, none of the wizards have touched my humans, and if a wizard has harmed or killed any of my colleagues' subjects, then I would have to say it's because of poor guarding. You made them for a reason, which is lost on the rest of us, but you know it's full purpose. If you want to keep them, then by all means, keep them."
"And it came to pass," was written in the Book of Time-the book that kept track of every event on Earth and every decision made in Heaven--"that Jehovah kept wizard-kind."
Shortly after leaving The Pillar of Jehovah (where contact was made with Him), and after ignoring several growls by his nine cohorts, Michael decided that a visit to his current guarded subject would be appropriate. He crossed the Pearled Gates, told St. Peter he'd be gone for "about three weeks unless called back" and set off to the Staircase.
On the walk down the Stairway of Heaven, Michael passed two KKK members, in full robes and laughing.
"I knew we were right all along! I knew it!"
Michael smiled and embraced the two, "welcome to the afterlife, your future with the angels awaits you!" Michael conveniently forgot to mention that they'd be with the Fallen Angels in Hell. It was a common practical joke to let white supremacists walk all the way up Heaven to meet St. Peter to hear their fate. The joke never got old, since Peter was black.
Michael guided his way to London, where John Soleil, his current subject was out with his friends buying school supplies for his next year at school. John had been Michael's favorite in his Billions of years of being an angel. John seemed to be well aware of Michael's presence, and actually talked to and heard Michael replying. Never had Michael had such a connection.
Back in Heaven, however, the nine other Sephiroth stood at the book of Time. Gabriel, Michael's closest friend, held a quill and read as the words appeared in gold on the paper.
"Sirius confronts Peter. Peter screams at Sirius. John Soleil sees two men in an alley way. Sirius calms Peter down. Peter lowers his wand." Gabriel looked at the other angels and they all sadly nodded. "It's for your own good, Mike, I hope you can understand."
And with that, Gabriel dipped the quill in the gold in a started to write. "Peter suddenly becomes scared. Peter's fear turns to anger. John draws closer to the alley way."' In silver writing, which denoted an Angel's actions appeared, "Michael tries to withdraw John." Gabriel wrote faster, "John keeps heading forward. Peter raises his wand at the crowd. Peter yells at Sirius. Peter turns to animagi form just after casting destruction spell." Gabriel saw that Sirius had somehow removed Peter's finger, and started to put the quill back, but then took it back and wrote one more thing down, "'blast hits squarely where John stands."' He placed the quill back in the endless gold ink, and looked for support from his colleagues. Uriel, another Sephiroth put his arm around Gabriel's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Michael never has to know."
~`*-+-*'~
Michael didn't move for what seemed like ages. Huddled over the body of John, replaying the event in his mind over and over again, he was so preoccupied with John's death, he didn't even bother to keep the living from seeing him. It was no bother really, they would probably never see him again, and although his appearance was somewhat...impossible, they'd probably forget him as some punk kid with spike hair. He finally left Michael's side when the medics took his mangled body away. He slowly made his way back up to Heaven, passed Peter--who thought Michael would get a kick out of the horrified look on the Klan member's faces--and into his private quarters in Heaven. There he sat for days on end, until finally came Gabriel.
"I know you must be hurting, and you know that you did nothing wrong in guarding John, it was that wizards who did this."
Michael never turned his head, he just muttered, "leave," and that was the end of it.
It was not soon after Gabriel left that Jehovah came to see Michael. He never said a word to Michael, he just let him speak: "I want those arrogant maggots of my planet. I don't care how, I just want their virus eradicated from Earth." Jehovah fatherly comforted Michael, "The non-wizards have their killers too, Michael, it just as easily could cave been one of them."
Michael thought back to his last image of John, writhing in pain, screaming for it to stop. He closed his eyes and said to himself. "So send me to live with Lucifer, I'll never help wizard-kind ever again."
It was Jehovah who already knew this wasn't true.