Harry Potter & The Voice Of God

Harry Potter & The Voice Of God

Chapter Two - God, Angels &...Platypi?

Notes: Whee! Over 20 reviews for 1 piddling little chapter! I´m so proud! :D And I figured I might as well do some author´s notes to clear up and make with explanations etc - I got the idea for this baby in a Documentary class (what? Like I was paying attention!) and the tutor was talking about "Voice-of-God" narrators.

See my train of thought - "Sigh, Alan Rickman is too yummy as Snape (I was reading the potions class scene in book one at the time and yes, in the lecture)...hmm...voice of God narrator...boring...oh! Alan Rickman as the Metatron in Dogma is the Voice of God...hehe...I´m so funny and clever with my simple word-association skills...oh! Now wouldn´t it be funny if Snape and the Metatron met! Hehe! I really am SO funny! Why does no one realise this? Ooh...there´s a good title for a fic, actually... Harry Potter and the Voice of God...bet no ones ever done...holy poop! What if THE Metat...oh bugger...there goes my plan for getting work done."

And you get the basic idea. By the time I left the lecture I had a two-page scene written and no notes for my essay (which I screwed up severely last week, for anyone who is interested) :) For those of you who haven´t seen Dogma - good god! See it! See it now! It SO rules! Alan Rickman steals the whole film! He kicks so much booty with the sarcasm and the attitude and the wingspan! Don´t get me started on the wing span!

Anyway, I´ve not decided whether anyone else from the film is going to show face yet, but it could have potentially funny consequences...now, though, I´ve bored you enough! Onto the fic!

Oh, and the platypus is significant, as you'll know if you've seen the film ;)

_________________________

"You...you could have just transfigured them..."

It really was an utterly surreal scene.

The Metatron was standing, hands on his hips, wings at full spread. Ron was still pointing a shaking wand at him, looking dubious, while Harry was staring at the wings in utter amazement.

"Can you fly?"

"Well, I don´t have them to makes carrot-topped boys scream like girls," he replied dryly. He gave Ron a look and smirked. "But it is a funny side-effect."

"Hey!"

"Face it, Weasley," the...angel said to him. "You scream like a little sissy girl and you know it."

"Right! That´s...you know my name?"

The Metatron threw his head back and exhaled a huff of exasperation, his wings drooping a little. "Of course I know your name, you twit," he replied, eyes rolling to the ceiling again. "You´re only one of the three nutcases I´ve been sent to see."

"You were sent to see us?"

"Well, if I´d been sent to see the Pope, I must have got the wrong bloody bus, that´s all I´m saying," the Metatron muttered, shooting a glance at Harry. "And shut your trap, Potter. You´ll catch a fly in a minute..." Harry gagged. "Oh, too late..."

Slapping Harry firmly on the back, Ron studied the Metatron. "You´re here to see me, Harry and Hermione, aren´t you?"

"Smart little thing, aren´t you, Weasley?" the angel drawled, looking around and spotting one of the big, comfy chairs in front of the fireplace. Sauntering over to it, he adjusted his wings out of sight and sat down, stretching out his legs. "And yes, I´m here with a mission from God for you and your mad little band."

"Mission from God?" choked out Harry. "Mission...from...God?"

"Yes, a mission from God. What? Is there a parrot in here or something?"

"From God? The God?"

"Well, I don´t exactly work for Microsoft, do I?" Both boys exchanged puzzled looks. The angel groaned. "Perfectly good one-liners and I get left with the two little plonkers who don´t get it...yes, You. God. Mission. From. Simple enough answer?"

"But why us?"

Interlacing his hands behind his head, the angel studied the ceiling above them. "I don´t do the casting, Potter," his intonation of Harry´s name was frighteningly like Snape´s. "I just go where I´m told and hand out deadly missions to random humans."

"Deadly missions? Well, that´s just brilliant!" Ron punched Harry on the arm. "I told you we were gonna end up almost getting killed again! Didn´t I?" he exclaimed. "It´s the same! Every bloody year!"

"Maybe that´s why then," the Snape-a-like suggested, raising his eyebrows. "Maybe you having a quiet year was going to be a shock to the system so God sent this little thing along to keep you occupied."

"But I don´t believe in God," Harry said faintly. Ron nodded in agreement.

"You think that bothers her?"

"HER?"

The Metatron smirked. "I love saying that," he sighed blissfully. "just for the look on people´s faces. If you don´t believe in her, what does it matter if she´s male, female or a hermaphroditic polka-dot guinea-pig in a neon green bikini?"

Both boys were gawping at him, eyes bulging at the image that conjured up.

"Let me get this straight..." Harry crossed the floor and sat down in the chair facing the Metatron, who gave him a lazy look. "You tell us you´re an angel, bringing us a mission from God, who is female, that might put us in danger, and you expect us to believe all that? What do you think we are? Stupid?"

"You want me to answer that honestly?"

"You´re going to have to prove it better than that."

"How?"

"Um..."

Snape-a-like smirked again. "You tell me what´ll convince you that God is real and that I´m really an angel and if I manage to convince you, you take the mission, no questions asked..."

"Tell God to come here."

The angel ran a hand through his tousled hair. "She´s in a meeting and I don´t like the chances of your Head Master´s head surviving intact when something as powerful as her comes down in the castle."

"Well, I´m convinced," Ron said, his voice dripping sarcasm, his wand still pointed at the man in the chair. "He´s really an angel and we´re really about to go and almost get our arses kicked on a mission for God."

"Hello! God! Whole planet to run!" The Metatron released a sigh. "Its not like I have a bloody beeper for her."

"If you´re an angel, you can do...magical stuff?" Ron suggested.

"Like you do with that..." He smirked at the wand in Ron´s hand. "Platypus..."

"Aaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

Harry gaped at his friend, who had just dropped the rather heavy, furry thing that his wand had turned into, and then at the platypus that was scuttling across the floor in a break for freedom.

The Metatron just leaned back in his seat, still smirking.

"Turn it back!" Ron yelled, pelting after his runaway wand. "It´s only a year old!"

The angel yawned. "Don´t see what it´s got to do with me," he drawled. "After all, neither of you believe in me or God or our mission or anything anyway. You´re the wizard, aren´t you?"

Ron paused to glare at him. "I´m really starting to not like you," he said.

"Charmed, I´m sure," the Metatron snickered. "And you might want to catch your wand before it tries to dive out the window..."

***

Twenty minutes later, Ron´s wand back in it´s normal and less-furry form and both boys sitting on the seats by the fire near the Metatron, they were watching as the so-called angel drank butterbeer.

Or didn´t drink it as the case was.

Harry had provided a bottle of it, when the angel had...offered to turn his wand into a sabre-toothed tiger, which would certainly have taken a lot more explaining than a rabid platypus, had it been caught running around the common room.

Both of them were dying to ask why he was taking mouthfuls of the substance, swilling it around, then spitting it into a cup that Harry had also provided, when the threat went from tiger to mammoth.

Ron, though, was still distracted by his wand, which kept quivering as if it was going to flee again.

"Ex...cuse me?"

"Mmm?" The Metatron raised his brows, as he spat a mouthful of butterbeer into the cup in his left hand, the bottle held in his right.

"Why do you...well...spit it out?"

The angel studied the glass, which was already getting full, then leaned forward and tipped the contents into the fire.

"It´s a long story involving drunken angels, God getting given the finger and booze being banned for all angels. Bit unfair if you ask me, but then, I´m not stupid enough to pick a fight with God," He looked at the bottle ponderously. "I don´t even know if this counts as booze, but it´s better to be on the safe side."

"Someone gave God the finger?" Ron asked, petting his trembling wand.

"An angel by the name of Loki. Got himself kicked out of Heaven for it."

"He was sent to Hell?" Harry looked a little shocked at the punishment.

The angel shook his head, swilling another mouthful.

"Worse," he said. "Wisconsin."

"Is he...still there?"

An odd expression crossed the Angel´s face. He almost seemed sad. "Poor kid," he sighed. "All he wanted to do was come home and Bartleby had to go and bugger things up for nearly everyone..."

"Eh?"

The Metatron regarded the bottle in his hand for a long moment. "The last mission I was landed with was to save the World from two fallen angels who were trying to break the rules and get back into Heaven. One of them...he changed his mind and the bloke he counted as a friend killed him."

"Bartleby was the one that killed Loki?" Harry hazarded a guess.

"Got it in one, Potter," the Metatron sighed. "Mind you, a lot of people died that day, before She came back and cleared everything up..." He was studying the label on the bottle of butterbeer.

A silence fell, only broken by the squeaks from Ron´s wand.

All three of them looked around when the portrait over the portrait hole squeaked as it swung open.

Hermione Granger crawled through the hole, her arms laden with books and straightened up in the common room. Hermione´s brown eyes sparkled at her friends, then noticed an adult gazing at her from around the edge of one of the chairs.

"So this is the infamous Hermione Granger," the Metatron remarked. "At last I´ll be able to get you started on your mission. I´m dying to get home..."

Hermione looked accusingly from Ron to Harry, who both shrugged helplessly in her direction. "Who are you?" she demanded sharply, turning to the man. "And what on earth are you talking about?"