Whaddaya Mean, I'm Going to Hell?

A Harry Potter Fanfiction

by Drauchenfyre

Humor

Ginny Weasley/ St. Peter

Summary: At the end of her life, The Creator has a surprise for Ginny Potter...

A/N: This may be the only time I do a story that's DH-plus-Epilogue compliant...

STORY:

Ginevra Potter looked around, startled. The last thing she remembered, she was laying in bed with her husband Harry, both tired out from the celebration for her husband's 100th birthday. Her whole family had been there- her brothers and sisters-in-law, her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, her nieces and nephews, old and dear friends, even a few favour-seeking Wizengamot members that she had invited, even though she knew Harry detested suck-ups of all stripes.

Now, she stood in a thick bank of fog, that was nevertheless well-lit. a path opened up before her, showing an old wooden desk piled with papers, folders and heavy tomes. Behind the desk sat a wizened old man, his quill scratching across parchment as he seemed oblivious to her arrival. Ginny slowly approached the desk.

The old man did not even look up as he asked, "Name?"

Ginny, startled, replied on autopilot, "Ginny Potter."

"All our files are under full name at birth. Let's try again- Name?"

"Oh. Sorry. Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"Date of birth, including year?"

"August 12, 1981."

The old man started shuffling through a pile of folders to his left. Ginny hesitated before asking, "Um, excuse me, but... where am I?"

The man at the desk still didn't look at her as he replied, "You are in Purgatory. Think of this as the Afterlife's waiting room. Here is where you go so that we can review your case and send you to the proper Aspect of the Afterlife- Heaven, Hell, Nirvana, Hades, et cetera. Ah, here we are." He opened a thick manila folder and paged through it. A low whistle escaped his lips. "Rubber stamped by the higher-ups for a direct route to Hell. To your right, the doorway surrounded by flames." He picked up his quill and resumed writing as Ginny stood there, aghast.

"Hell? How... What... Whaddaya mean, I'm going to Hell? You must have made a mistake!"

The old man rolled his eyes and looked at Ginny for the first time. "Mistake, she says. Like I don't know my bloody job. I'm only Saint Bloody Peter, doing this bloody job for milennia, but Ginny Weasley says I must be wrong, so I must be. Listen, child, everyone who gets assigned Hell protests, but in over two thousand years of doing this, I've yet to have a case where an appeal succeeded. One of the advantages to being God- or Jehovah, or Allah, or whichever of His dozens of other names you prefer- is that, unlike that old fool Dumbledore, He actually is perfect, and actually is incapable of making a mistake. You died with an unresolved Mortal Sin on your soul, a Mortal Sin I might add that you've borne since you were fourteen years old, so you've had plenty of time to repent and make amends. The rules are quite specific... you die with a Mortal Sin on your soul, you burn. To your right, the doorway surrounded by flames."

"Mortal Sin? What Mortal Sin?"

"You used illegal and, more importantly, immoral means to interfere with a Soul Bond. You used what your culture calls Love Potions to divert Harry James Potter's attention away from his Ordained perfect mate, one Luna Celeste Lovegood, and in doing so damaged countless lives. Harry Potter's magic has been hindered and restrained his whole life because he has never truly experienced actual love. Had he bonded with his Soul Mate, countless deaths would have been averted, including your brother Frederick's, and the Second Rise of Voldemort would have ended more than a year earlier. But no, Ginny Weasley had to use Love Potions to force the bloody Boy-Who-Lived to notice her and fool him into thinking he was in love with her. You were married for over seventy years, and yet you still don't know enough about your own bloody husband to differentiate between the man he is and the mythical Hero you fantasized about as a little girl! You have had this Mortal Sin on your soul for more than eighty years, and done nothing to resolve it! Now you are dead, and it is too late!" St. Peter's eyes were beginning to glow silver as he got angrier. "I would strongly advise you to avoid Fate for the next several centuries, as she is quite furious with both you and that old fool Albus Dumbledore for your separate interference in her designs. TO YOUR RIGHT, THE DOORWAY SURROUNDED BY FLAMES! I HAVE SPOKEN!"

It was a shellshocked Ginny who made her way to the Gates of Hell, only to be met by a figure she hadn't seen in decades. "Professor Dumbledore?"

Albus Dumbledore stood before her, wrapped in heavy chains and wearing a sorrowful expression. Ah, Ginevra. I was told you would be arriving today, and was afraid you would be assigned to Hell with me. I was the only one willing to come greet you, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean? Where are my parents? Where's Fred?"

"Heaven, I suspect. I'm one of the few people you know here in Hell who wasn't a Death Eater in life. Come along Ginevra. The first few decades are the hardest,but you get used to it after that."

Shaking her head in disbelief, a still-shellshocked Ginny followed her former Headmaster into the bowels of Hell.

END