Moreta and the Plague of Harry Potter Fanfics

MORETA AND THE PLAGUE OF HARRY POTTER FANFICS

Moreta stretched lazily, regaining consciousness after spending several years having a nice, long, comfortable sleep. After a quick shower and a cup of coffee, the Goddess of Literature made her way over to the Book of Books, flipped it open, and began to read.

She was surprised to find that the Harry Potter series was the most popular set of children's books in the world. Before her nap, there had only been on Harry Potter novel, an obscure little book that Moreta had found interesting and bookmarked. Now, there was a multi-million dollar Harry Potter industry, and an epic tale that Moreta hadn't expected from the charming, but not particularly complex Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. As she read more, Moreta became more and more interested. After a while she decided to look up the fanfiction genre to see exactly how it was responding to the Harry Potter phenomenon. Unfortunately, the very first entry in the listing happened to be an innocent-looking little website entitled 'fanfiction.net'.

Moreta turned page after page, faster and faster, horror in her face. Crossovers. Immortals. Maguses. Slash. Mpreg. Adult-Rated...

The Goddess of Literature let out a wail that echoed all through the heavenly plane, making the angels on the level below cling together nervously

...while many, many levels down Jeremy Finch stared at the deep fissure in the earth that had just appeared and separated him form the school grounds, wondering how on earth he was going to explain this one.

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Death was playing poker with Pestilence when Moreta stormed in.

"I need your help!" she burst out angrily. Death turned, leaning casually on her scythe, to regard the angry goddess with oddly-glowing green eyes.

"Oh?" Her tone was interested. The last time that Literature had needed Death's assistance was when a group of idiots tried to burn some books by some guy called Darwin, and that was a long time ago. Goddesses of the Arts rarely needed to bump someone off.

Pestilence reached for the block of chocolate in the middle of the table, causing a distraction. Death glared at her.

"You're not supposed to eat chocolate," she scolded. "Especially not when I bought it."

Pestilence made a face.

"Hey, it's Famine who's on the diet, pal, and as for not eating your chocolate let's remember who ate all my candy canes last Christmas, shall we?"

"Excuse me, mate, but we all know you're allergic to that stuff. Look at her, you're developing that nasty rash again already. And come on, can't we let the candy canes drop? If you keep harping on it I'm going to kamikaze your house plants."

"What, you want me to give you the Plague, again?"

Moreta interrupted their friendly bickering impatiently.

"Look!" She thrust a list at them. "This is a list of the online personas of the authors of Harry Potter fanfiction containing slash, mpreg, or porn. I want 'em going down!"

Death reached for the list with one long, pale hand and scanned it.

"It's a pretty long list, but sure, I should be able to do it. Except for number six, that's Cupid."

"What!" Moreta snatched back the list to glare at the sixth name, 'Harry_Draco_Loverboy.' "I'm going to kill him!"

"I've been trying for years," Death remarked, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head and getting to her feet, ready to perform her duties as the 'Grim Reaper,' "but the little snit keeps running to Nyx."

Death grabbed one last piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

"Oh, and Zenevieva, remind Bellona that she really needs to finish up that thing in Iraq, will you? It's dragging on forever and we never see her anymore."

"Will do," Pestilence replied, absent-mindedly scratching a large purple rash.

Death nodded farewell to Moreta and strode out.

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Cupid was doing his best to romance a bored-looking Venus when Moreta stalked in.

"Hey, Moreta, long time no see," he smiled, giving her a flash of white teeth. Moreta folded her arms, looking savage.

"You are so dead, 'Harry_Draco_Loverboy.'"

Dismay filled Cupid's face for a moment, before he ran on hand through his blonde hair in what he clearly thought was a boyishly-attractive fashion.

"Aw, come on, Mory, surely we can talk this over?" he coaxed, smiling winningly.

At that moment, down on the mortal plane, a couple of angels noticed that one Gilderoy Lockhart not showed the unmistakable signs of being only half-mortal, but that he bore a striking resemblance to the god Cupid...

Moreta went unaffected.

"No."

Cupid's charming look faded slightly.

"You," Moreta told him, through gritted teeth, "are going to get down there and removed all your filthy fanfics from the internet, or else you're going to find four horsemen at your door in the middle of the night. And from what I hear, Death would be only too happy to oblige me."

Cupid paled.

"Right, I'm on it," he said hastily, and ran off. Venus raised her carefully-plucked eyebrows at Literature and smiled sensually.

"If you carry it out, tell Death I endorse the plan, will you?"