Foreword:
I figure any decent multiversal organization would have a crack team of lawyers and diplomats to negotiate with various alien gods for aid, resources, and safe passage.
This is about the only time I'll reference another writer's fic, even obliquely.
Conversation overheard between a Deific Contact Specialist and his handler
You would not believe the fucked-up day I've been having. I finally concluded negotiations with the gods of Reality Bundle Aleph-Null-Null-Theta-11384, and I was looking forward to finishing my paperwork and clocking out, but the call goes out that I'm needed for a reality bundle that's so far off the beaten path it might as well be in Antarctica. There's a godlike version of myself that Potterwatch is looking to recruit, which is already bad. Usually, they've either got an ego, or they're completely paranoid that everyone's trying to manipulate them with potions. At least real gods aren't so megalomaniacal. I go get the briefing from my dispatcher, and all he says is "Have fun with this one". That's another warning sign right there, but they don't pay me to sit around, so I hop to it.
I show up near the root of the bundle, and the first thing I think is "Wow, this guy's Voldemort must have gone down kicking and screaming!". Instead of the moon, there's a ring of debris around the Earth. There's hardly any civilization down there, and everywhere else looks like Mad Max. Then, I see him flying around on a chunk of asteroid like it's a surf board. Dobby's with him, wearing a suit of powered armor with a chainsaw of all things on the groin. They're fighting vampire cavemen or something. This shit is so absurdly metal that I almost think I fell asleep watching a Dethklok music video.
Ok, fine. Some universes are over the top that way, but I'm sure this Harry is perfectly nice when he isn't fighting demonic astronauts. I'm just about to get the guy's attention when he eats Ron! Now, I don't know about you, but in my opinion, cannibalistically desecrating a friend's body is so awful I wouldn't even expect it from Voldemort. I start to leave, but the madman sees me, reaches into the entrance to a type-3 hell plane he casually keeps on his person, and pulls out an artifact so dark it makes Horcruces look like chocolate frogs. It's an electric guitar that shoots something like fiendfyre, because of fucking course it is.
I barely made it out, didn't even get the chance to recruit him, and to top it off, all of my paperwork was altered by whatever that fire was. The anti-fiendfyre enchantments didn't do anything but keep it from burning them up completely. Now, they're a bizarro version of the American Constitution and I have to do the whole thing over again. I've already submitted an official request to seal the bundle off from the larger Multiverse before anything gets out, but consider this a pointed reminder. I might deal with gods, demons, fae, and greeblie horrors from outside of space and time, but some shit's just too bizarre for me to handle.