Author's Note: I'm somehow very much in love with this story, so be gentle with it.
A couple of reviews would be lovely though.
Sorry I haven't updated in a while.
Chapter 2: Ready, set…. GO!
God sighed and watched the young boy in front of him. He inhaled sharply before sighing. Poor boy, he has no idea what is going to hit him. But it had to be done. Divine boredom was making him sick. And when sick, Satan could do whatever he wanted to the earth before God could even notice what was going on.
Besides, Satan was becoming more powerful. And that was very, very, very bad. God had to gain some power again. The world couldn't continue on like this; not forever.
His talk with Satan hadn't gone as well as planned. They had to decide together who, when, where and for how long they would play with the wizarding world.
The rules had been simple: each one of them had one chosen one that would fight against another one. Their confrontation wouldn't be direct, one had to spread goodness as the other one tried to infest the same place with evil. It was a sneaky game, where both sides had to be talented.
The real problems started with the location. Satan wanted it to take place in Asia or in Africa, whereas God wanted it to happen in Australia or Europe. They had tried to settle with America, but both parties couldn't possibly find a place where both wanted it to happen.
Ironically Satan wanted it to happen in Los Angeles; God wanted it to take place in Utah, near the Mormons. Both actually wanted it to take place in Hogwarts, yet they didn't dare propose the place; it would have been too obvious.
This had been their first big fight in ages. After an hour of yelling they finally settled for England. God had proposed Hogwarts, crossing his fingers under the table, hoping that Satan wouldn't know about his angel being there. Satan did the same thing, only hoping God wouldn't about her.
The other deal had been the time limit. Satan wanted it to be settled in a week, God wanted three months. They settled after another hour for twelve days.
Twelve was a good number; it was the perfect number according to the bible; Satan found it was perfect too: his agent would have time to destroy her rival and to take over Hogwarts.
Then, they started yelling at each other about the winner's prize. The destruction or the salvation of the wizarding world.
How would it be made? What will Satan do? How will he do it? By killing all the witches and wizards at once? By taking their magic? By creating a mass genocide so that they would kill each other during centuries? By making every witch and wizard sterile? Release a virus on them? Kill them methodically by spontaneous combustion?
How would God save them? Through Harry Potter? Through laws? Love? Tolerance? Change them all? Make them powerless and stupid? Bring rivals together by gently cooperation? Make people suffer the same pain they inflict on others? Give them a total, half insane, power greedy leader with a big heart?
God sighed later on, noticing how easy it was to be evil. Being good was difficult. But that made it worth fighting for.
You remembered the names of the plagues and diseases on the worlds, but rarely those who cured them. You had difficulties remembering five names of peacemakers that didn't used force and armies to get what they wanted (Mother Theresa (well she didn't actually do anything for world's peace), Gandhi, Martin Luther King and…. Eerrr… yea.). But to enumerate dictators was easy (Hitler, Lenin, Mussolini, Mao Zedong and Stalin).
Evil is remembered forever. Evil brings out thing in people that no one could ever imagine. Creativity was in its fullest form when it had to cause destruction. Torturers are the most imaginative people existing.
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God opened his eyes again, and settled his eyes on the boy in front of him. He looked humbly down, yet he could see him trying to catch a glimpse of his face under his eyelashes. God smiled; he was mature, yet had the freshness of the youth in him. He was sometimes unorthodox and sneaky, two qualities that were good for this quest.
He was the one for the job. It was undeniable. He liked being a human; or at least to look like one. He never felt pain, never ate, never got sick, he was never tired. He was ready twenty-four seven to help anyone. He barely slept.
He had been the one to help people. He had invented locks and doors, to stop people from beating each other to death for no reason. He had been the one inventing virginity belts, the one to make people concerned about hygiene. He was Flemming, the inventor of penicillin, a priest, ready to help the poor, the orphans and the widows. He had been a noble knight during Middle-Age, Gandhi's dreams, the Beatles chance to become famous. He spread the Hippie Culture; he was in France to protest against war. He was an activist against animal testing; a super ecologist. He was Snape's courage; he made Snape change camps and help the Order.
He was love, hope and faith.
He was a martyr; he had been a role model for Jesus. Actually, he was Jesus. He wasn't literally God's son, but something pretty close to it. He wanted people to forgive each other and for love to rule the world.
He had been a priest in each and every religion imaginable (expect for any branch of Satanism; he couldn't come near them; he wasn't allow to. Satan's disciples couldn't go into the holy house of God (well, they could go to some of them) the rule was the same for the Satanists.)
He had tried being a girl; it had been his thing for a while. He loved to dance, especially ballet. Ballet had the absurd notion of wanting to make people fly. Sometimes, for a split second, they dancers did fly, like quicksilver moonlight shadows on the stage. He had been ballerinas his past three lifetimes. His ability of not eating, of never being tired or sick made him the best dancer possible.
Being a girl and a ballerina wasn't easy. Yet he had been the brightest stars in the Ballet History. Being a man and doing ballet was easier, but he felt like he cheated if he didn't suffer like the other girls.
He found it lovely that he still walked like a dancer. He wasn't going to quit from that habit just under the pretence of him being a boy.
He never wanted to look handsome; he didn't want to that advantage on people. People were more comfortable around someone that was plain than with someone that was beautiful;
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Satan maybe liked her the most. She was so pretty, plump and cute.
She had been the one to suggest to the first men to hit each other with their clubs that were used for breaking coconuts.
She had destroyed Pompeii. She had been a model for Michelangelo, Edgar Allan Poe's Muse, a maid of Marquis de Sade, the mistress of an SS officer who was thrown in the extermination camps. She had been Helen of Troy the destroyer men's hearts, Queen Elisabeth the First, strict sovereign. She was the first to open an opium stand in China, the first girl to be drawn on the walls of the caverns prehistoric men lived in. She was the one who's had murmured into people's ears to burn witches. She had been the one to kill the last tyrannosaurus Rex, the first one induce fashion as a social status. She had been Cortez, the starter of the Maya genocide, the creator who had made rats strong and bearer of the black plague.
Satan could say she had a major part to play in human History. She liked to create paradoxes and confusion. Yet she was gently too sometimes. She was the one who created the subconscious. She was a goddess in her own way; she had played wonderfully her part as Morgan, the Celtic goddess of nightmares. But her adorers had moved on and so had she. She was very easily bored; that's why it was good to give her assignments and challenges; it kept her going.
He passed his arms around the girl that has sitting next to him. She was quite good-looking now. Blonde-red hair suited her the best. She had been silver-haired during Middle-Age, brunette during WWII, red haired during the Renaissance, blonde in prehistorically times. Her hair had been multicoloured during the punk years, and she had had black hair during the drug hippies years passed with her pierced friend.
God only knew (Satan sniggered always whilst using that sentence; God didn't know more about your thoughts than Santa Claus) how naughty she could be. She had a preference towards gluttony and laziness in the seven deadly sins. She did however crack easily for luxury. Satan didn't like this however; he was very possessive about his creation. More than one of her lovers had been mysteriously killed (think John F. Kennedy).
"- Yes? How may I help you?"
Hermione Granger looked up to Satan and smiled. Finally she might know what was the point of having her in Hogwarts.
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God watched down on the boy in front of him.
"- My Son, I have the most important mission for you ever since your days of being Jesus. Now, you in the form of Blaise Zabini. You have to save the wizarding world."
Tada! Now you know who'se who!