Even Angels Make Mistakes!
By bunny chan & Ginny :)
Here goes part 2!!! Please don't murder us... Part 3 coming as soon as we write it! :) Please do take a little time to review!
~bunny chan & Ginny :)
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"Me?!" Melissa looked at the little angel, astonished and annoyed "Why me?!"
The new comer regarded her critically, "So, you're Melissa Johnns, are you?"
"Well, yes, but--"
"Come along, then. To Head Quarters at once, girl. Raphael wants to see you."
"But-" began the arch angel, pushing a stray curl off of her forehead, "I didn't mean-"
"Do be quiet," ordered the new angel, "And be off with you."
The little angel blinked uncertainly at him, "Look here, Tristam," she tried again, "I mean to say-"
But no one was listening. Melissa found herself being shooed along by Tristam, into a large, tidy room, where the walls were apparently made of clouds. Here and there, a little bunny rabbit sat, nibbling away. Melissa, in a fit of bad temper, kicked one. She had a feeling that she might earn a few extra negative Demerit points for that. Hah.
An extremely stern- looking Lord- angel sat, his fingertips pressed together in a manner that Melissa thought should be made illegal, behind a table covered with a snowy white cloth. Melissa had no choice but to assume this was Raphael. She slumped into the chair opposite him, and sat there, scowling.
"So... you're the Angel that's been chose to do our mission?" Raphael looked at her, with much the same expression of distaste as Tristam had first turned on her.
"Yeah, looks like it," Melissa shrugged.
"I have to say... you don't look the type but..." he seemed to shrug off his doubts "Oh well, I'm sure that whoever sent you knows what they're doing."
"Er-"
"Good good. I suppose you know what's expected of you?"
"Well... no," Melissa admitted, "should I?"
"You should," confirmed Raphael, "I suppose I shall have to explain it. The Angel's Council is really going downhill these days..."
"Er," said Melissa, not quite daring to be rude to this far more imposing Lord- Angel.
"Anyhow, moving on," he continued, "Your Divine Mission is to be sent to Hogwarts School Of Witch- craft and Wizardry. Once there-"
"Hang on a mo; Hogwarts School Of Witch- craft And Wizardry? As in Harry Potter? As in those loopy books my little brother worships? You're mad!"
Lord Angels are never mad, Melissa. It is you who is mad. Minus 50 demerit points." He looked even more stern then before, which, Melissa thought, must be quite difficult all things considered.
"You're sending me to a fictional school of Magic, and you're telling me that you're not mad! For some reason, I really don't buy that!"
"Be quiet, girl," he snapped, "of course it's real. Now, the mission. You-"
"This is stupid! Bloody Hell! You lot are in- bloody- sane!"
Raphael seemed to grow to 50 times his usual size. His eyes glowed red. His face was contorted with fury. You obviously did not cross Lord Angels. Melissa shrank back.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry.." she muttered resentfully, "Sheesh!" Lord Angels were obviously not all they were cracked up to be on Earth; having the patience of a saint never came into it in reality.
Rapheal still looked at her with dislike, but returned to more or less normal. Melissa decided not to cross him again. He looked as though next time he'd do something both of them would really regret.
"If you don't watch what you are doing, Melissa Daphne Johnns," he told her, using all 3 of her names; a sure sign that she was in Trouble, "Your worst nightmare will come true. And you needn't think I don't know what they are..." he gave her a black look. Melissa muttered something inaudible.
"Tristam!" The Lord Angel suddenly shouted, "I have no more patience with the girl. You tell her of the Divine Mission. I will have to have a word with that little Arch Angel friend of hers..." He flew off, muttering. Melissa almost laughed. That little arch angel had been incredibly annoying, obsessed with Demerit points and all.
"Er... yes, hello," Tristam said, standing next to her. He was looking hesitant, less bossy then before, maybe because he didn't know exactly what he was doing, "Well, yes, the, er, Mission," he tried to put on a buissnesslike tone of voice, "You are going to be sent to Hogwarts- don't interrupt, girl- and your duty will be to protect a boy. Harry, er, Potter, I believe. I don't suppose you read the books?" he looked hopeful. Melissa gave him a Look that said 'yeah, right, like I'd spend my spare time reading' and he quailed under her gaze.
"I didn't think so," he admitted, going a bit pink, "Well, there's a, er, evil... person called Voldemort. Or something. And... you've got to protect Harry Potter against him. And it won't be easy. Oh dear," the Arch Angel pushed a lock of hair off of his face "I don't really know anything else... um... well, it'll all become clear. I hope. And Rapheal said that if you muck it up, you will be forced to spend the rest of your life watering potplants and attending flower- arranging classes. And learning raffia- work. And if you lose more then another 1000 demerit points, you will be sent to the AWMAMAI school. That's the Angels With Mentally Abused Minds and Attitudes and Incurable Manners School. It says that in the Angel Code Of Conduct, Rule 7434, Paragraph 43. Um. Bye?" He suggested finally.
Before Melissa could say anything else, he had snapped his fingers and... she was at Hogwarts School Of Watchcraft And Wizardry. Or so she supposed. It didn't look as if she had a choice. She really must be going mad; Well, that was one way to spend an afternoon.
She was in a class room. Although it wasn't like any classroom at her old school, which had contained walls painted in a colour that might once have been white, which had grotty brown plastic tiling on the floor, and bright wall displays designed by over- enthusiastic year 7s all over the place.
This room was dark and shadowy. The walls and floor were made of stone, and had something unpleasant and green growing out of random cracks. Any colourful wall displays here wouldn't have lasted a minute before being overtaken with green slime. It was full of students, all labouring over... could it be?... cauldrons ?! Well, this was something new.
Melissa stared around suspiciously. She had the feeling that something wasn't right. And which one as Harry Potter? Why did she have to look after him, of all people? She tried to remember some of what her little brother might have said about him, but memory failed. This didn't look promising.
She didn't know anyone here, and everyone ignored her. She wondered how many other students had guardian angels, or whether it was just herself and Potter. Stuck together. Things weren't made any better when a simple- looking, small, roudfaced boy, who had apparently had his hair done at B&Q, decided to stare at her, gormlessly.
Neville was also feeling uneasy. Ever since he'd woken up in the morning, he'd been seeing people that weren't there. Well, that's not to say that they really weren't there, it's just... no one else could see them. Or if they could, they ignored them.
He hadn't tried talking to any yet, but one, who seemed to spend a lot of time around Justin Finch- Fletchley, a cheerful- looking girl of about 18 with curly fair hair and a terrifying grin that showed her eye-teeth, had winked at him. It was all rather confusing, not to mention disturbing. He hadn't winked back.
And now, something impossible had just happened.
A girl with dark brown hair, dressed in a floaty white dress heavily embroidered with cream coloured flowers, had just appeared in the middle of the room. As she put her hands on her hips to give him the death stare, he noticed inch- long nails, painted silver. She had the blackest scowl he had ever seen from anyone- including Malfoy and Snape- and grubby but feathery white wings. Despite her expression, there was something almost... celestial about her. Or there would have been, only the effect of the dress, wings and pearly halo shine to her, was rather spoilt by the girl's blue hooped earrings, and a leather jacket sported over the top of her flowing white garment.
She continued to glare at him. He stared back, open mouthed.
"What're you looking at?"
"N- nothing..."
"Yes you are. Liar."
"Sorry."
"Yeah, right, whatever," Melissa suddenly remembered something fairly important, "I'm dead," she said, "so... how come you can see me?"
"You're dead?! You can't be. I... I'm going mad. You're a figment of my imagination..."
"Don't be bloomin' soft. I'm as real as you are, mate," she crossed her arms across her chest and scowled.
The boy seemed to be fighting with his common sense. Somewhere, something was telling him that she was being truthful, but every other part of him seemed to think otherwise.
"I... don't think you can be real, no offence," he blinked earnestly at her, "I mean to say--"
"Longbottom!" Snape came sweeping over to Neville's cauldron, like an over- sized bat.
"Yes, Professor?"
"Who are you talking to?" Snape snapped.
"Me. Gotta problem with that, mister?" Melissa looked at him pugnaciously.
"I'm waiting for an answer, Longbottom." Of course, he ignored her.
"I, er... n, no one, Professor, sir," he stuttered, trying to ignore Melissa mockingly imitating him behind Snape's back, "I mean... myself, sir. I was talking to myself."
"It's the only way I can be sure of intelligent conversation round here," put in Melissa, "talking to myself." Neville managed to keep a straight face.
"Really Longbottom? I don't believe you. 10 points from Gryffindor." He swept away.
Melissa fired an imaginary air rifle after him, and then turned her attention back to Neville, "Do you believe I'm real then, or not, boy?"
"No," he muttered out the corner of his mouth, "go away, please. You're getting me in trouble."
"Fine then!" She yelled, annoyed. She had had enough of people acting like she was stupid, "Don't believe me! Why will people not believe I exist?!" In a fit of pique, Melissa tipped Neville's sleeping potion to the floor, "I want to know this," she continued, "because it is bloody annoying! Argh!" She let out one final shriek, and stalked out, seething.
It was rather unfortunate that, as always, Neville's sleeping potion was wrong. Not one person looked in the least bit tired, but began sprouting boils all over their feet and ankles.
"It wasn't me!" Was all that he could think of to say, as Professor Snape made his threatening way towards him...
~*~
Melissa stomped out of the Potions dungeons and into an empty
classroom. She pull the door open and quickly shut it back in
a haste.
"Uh, sorry for disturbing you!" She murmured hurriedly.
Then she hit herself. She was dead! An angel, of all the embarrassing
things! With some stupid mission to protect some stupid fictional
celebrity kid from a fictional character in a fictional world,
no less! No one could possibly see her, except that weird little
round-faced boy back in the dungeons. Melissa cautiously opened
the door again.
"What the hell--?! Clover, what are you doing here?"
Melissa yelled, annoyed. She'd rather hoped to have escaped Clover
once and for all.
The kissing couple turned to her and blushed through their pearly
skin.
"Hi! Are you Melissa Daphne Johnns?" the girl, who looked
like Clover, asked, smiling embaressedly.
"No need to say my middle name, for crap's sake! Who're you?"
Melissa demanded. The man raised an eyebrow.
"Y'know kid, you don't look a day over fifteen," said
he, as if it were a crime, Melissa thought. She grinned inside
herself, pleased all the same. She was only just fourteen.
"What the hell d'you expect then? Thirty?" She replied
sarcastically.
"I'm Lily Potter. He's James Potter," Lily Potter said.
Melissa looked up at the name 'Potter' in vague interest.
"Are you related to this kid called Harry Potter?" Melissa
asked.
"Related? We're his parents! Died though, in Voldemort's
saddest day in history," James said, "not much fun,
as you'd imagine."
"You're the angel they just sent, right? Your charge is a
boy called Neville Longbottom. Haven't you met him yet?"
Lily asked.
"I don't know... But I was told to protect this kid called
Harry Potter! What the Hell is Heaven is playing at?" Melissa
demanded.
"Correction. We are the ones in charge of him, although we're
not exactly guardian angels. Well, I'm not," James said,
picking his nose. Lily winced, as did Melissa.
"Neville," Lily said in exasperation, "is your
charge. Like they'd let anyone but us look after Harry!"
She gave Melissa a Look suggesting that she was the last person
on earth she'd trust with her son.
"You looked like this angel in Heaven called Clover Evans,"
Melissa remarked, rubbing a bruise on her head, "And she
is extremely violent. I didn't know they used harps for that.
That's something they never mentioned in the Bible, huh. They
could at least warn us!"
"Clover? Where?" Lily cried frantically, looking worried
"I can't stand her!"
"Up. Heaven. Place where God lives. You go there when you
die. Know where I mean? Good. Now tell me where the Heck to find
this bloody Neville kid," Melissa growled.
"We just moved in," James said.
"Yeah, whatever, just tell me what he look like!" Melissa
demanded. Lily and James stared at each other.
"Well, for starters, he's small, he has a round face..."
***
"--And get them done by five. Or no dinner for you,"
Snape sneered unpleasantly, slamming the door.
Neville jumped right out of his skin in pure fright. He glanced
nervously at the nearby clock. How could he, fast as he was, finish
pulling the legs off 100 cockroaches in just five minutes? But
still, Neville sighed, everything is worth a try. And he didn't
have a choice anyway.
"Hey," a voice said suddenly.
"What?" Neville asked, looking around blankly. Melissa
stared at him, upside down. Neville let out a small yelp.
"Hey, stop the yelling! My drums aren't as immune as that
old man's there," Melissa growled.
"W- What are you doing here? Okay, okay, I get it! I get
it!! You're just my imagination!!!" Neville said, laughing
nervously. Having conversations with people no one else could
see was not a good sign.
"Look, kiddie, are you Neville Longbottom?" Melissa
asked impatiently.
"Yes. What do you want with me, Imagination?" Neville
asked.
"I'm not any stupid imagination! I'm Melissa Johnns, your
supposed guardian angel, and bloody annoyed about it," Melissa
informed him dryly.
"Guardian ... Angel? You?" Neville repeated slowly,
doubtfully. If she was his guardian angel, why did she get him
into this detention? Some guardian she was!
"Yes! Now let's get this hell of a job cleaned up."
Melissa grumbled.
Neville stared at her in amazement. In the first place, do guardian angels help pull off cockroach legs? Or, for that matter, get his or her charge into trouble?
This Melissa girl mightn't be the best Guardian he could have hoped for, but she was better then nothing, right? Uhm... well. Probably.
____________________________________________________________________________________________Ting Tang Diddle Eye Poe!
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