11 years ago
11 years ago...
It was a nice day.
All the other days were nice, especially for Crowley and Aziraphale. Yes, An angel of the Eastern Gate and a demon, very rare and unatural bond to be made. But enemies for 6000 made them a sort of 'friend'. Most angels and/or demons when faced with these circumstances view it as "balderdash" That's where the word was invented.
But not god, she does not play games with the universe.
Driven on one of the roads to SoHo was a Old Black Bently. Fairly old for the 20th century, yet barely a scratch, dent or a smudge of rust was visable nor existant. Sitting in it was a demon named Crowley, slouching with an unreadable expression on his fabe as his hands take the wheel. The car, as far as to Crowley's knowledge, only playe songs by Queen, especially Bohemian Rhaspody.
He had just delivered the antichrist to a satanic orphanage and was now on his way to the angel's place, a bookstore. More specifically, Aziraphale's bookstore. The world was coming to an end and he had to notify him.
Aziraphale, after a good dinner at the sushi restaurant nearby, was hanging his coat on his coatrack got a sudden call from his telephone. Yes, those very old telephones where barely anyone used in the modern times. Old fashioned let's say, Aziraphale liked Old fashioned things.
He glared at it. He wanted to let it ring. But being the angel he is, he picks it up.
"I'm afraid we're quite deffinetly closed." Reminded the angel, holding his temper.
"It's me. We have to talk. It's the big one." Crowley replied, currently standing in one of London's telephone booths. He could call Aziraphale by phone but all the telephone lines were jamed by coincidence.
"When you say the "big one" you mean..." Azirapgale pauses for a secong, thinking to himself when Crowley answers for him.
"Yeah... Armageddon."
===𓆩✧𓆪===
Standing outside the bookshop was a man and a cat around the corner. The man was tall, thin and very old. Judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were bright behing a pair of half-moon spectacles. This man was Albus Dumbledore. Very strange man to the humans, his atire didn't really fit in. Especially in SoHo where almost everybody happened to dress like old grandpas and grandmas.
"I should have known." Albus chuckled, looking at the cat in the corner. He took out what looked like a silver cigarette lighter, flicked it open and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with an audioble pop twelve times. He then turned towards the cat again.
"Fancy seeing you here professor McGonnagall."
The cat leaped into the air and morphed into a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses. Shee too was wearing an emerald cloak, hair drawn back into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
"How did you know it was me?"
"My dear, I've never seen a cat sit so stifly."
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day."
"All day?" Dumbledore tilted his head lightly at McGonnagall "I must've passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." McGonnagall sniffled angrily.
"Oh forget that, where are we handing of the boy?" She asks, eager to change the subject. "Right at that bookshop there, A. Z. Fell's." Dumbledore pointed to the cozy bookstore around the corner of the street.
"Are you sure of leaving the baby at the hands of an angel and a demon? They could bicker over him sir! Perhaps even fight over the authority of him!" She worried out loud, people on the surface of Earth had always steriotyped the upper and the lower as childish. They were 99 percent correct. The 1 percent, lo and behold, were them. But nobody acknowledged this yet.
"And angel and a demon that has lived on the same ground for 6000 years, McGonnagall. Quite suprising their relationship is quite close" Dumbledore remenices his past observations over the two. "The angel would make a very good librarian. Not a single one of his books molded"
"And what about the red one?" Posed the lady. "He seems quite reckles judging by the aura he gives." "Oh, he has one of the most beautiful plants here in London." He smiled as he watched the two drink wine together through the window.
"Better than Professor Sprout's?"
"Even better than his."
"Who will be delivering the baby?" Asked McGonnagall, steering the topic back to the main part. "Hagrid's bringing him."
"You think it's wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"
"I would trust Hagrid with all my life."
Just as Professor McGonnagall was about to say something, a low rumbling sou d had brocken the silence around the street of SoHo. It grew steadily louder as they looked around for the source of a headlight. It swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky. A huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.
If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting in it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and atleast five times wide. Long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face and his feet in their leather boots were like a baby dolphins. In his vast muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
"No problems were there?" Asked Dumbledore. "No sir, house was almost destroyed but I got him out all right before the muggles started swarmin' around." Professor McGonnagall bent over and carefully lifted aside the folds of the blanket. Inside a baby under a tuft of jet'black hair over his forehead and a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.
Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned towards the bookstore.
"Could- could I say goodbye to him, sir?" Asked Hagrid. He bent his head over Harry and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Suddenly letting out a howl like a wounded dog.
"Shhh!" Hissed McGonnagall. "You'll wake up the muggles! Not to mention the still awake supernatural beings in the bookstore!"
The older man stepped over the elevated stone stairs and faced the front door. He layed the boy gently on the doorstep, took a letter from his cloak and tucked it inside Harry's blankets then came back to the two.
The tree looked at the boy now at the foot of the bookstore. Hagrid shaking, McGonnagall holding back tears and the light from dumbledore's eyes gone out.
"What if they don't want him? After all, they don't seem to have much experience with Muggle babies. Not to mention the whole 'Armageddon' situation is happening now. It will be trouble to them!" McGonnagall faced Dumbledore.
"If they do not wish to take care of Harry, they will return him to the Dursleys. I wrote the address in the letter." He said dully. "The Dursleys?! They're horrid people! I've seen how they treat other muggles. Outrageous."
"It's the second option, Ms. Dursley is a blood relative. But they can take him back if they want to. The charm of Lily is casted around SoHo and Privet Drive."
===𓆩✧𓆪===
After the two sobber up from the wine. The demon waved farewell to the angel and was now on his way back to his appartment. The door opened and...
"Uhh, angel?!" Crowley yelled out. "Don't tell me one of your customers left a damn baby outside!"
After hearing these words, Aziraphle stood up from his tartan armchair and quickly walked towards the entrance of the bookstore. Finding...
"A baby? What is it doing here?" Aziraphale asked as he crouched down to carry the baby inside. "It's so cold out!" "I dunno, I guess it's a gift? That's what you said, humans give questionable things around to be happy or... ngk." Crowley shrugs it off and closses the door to the outside.
"No, this isn't a gift. It's a child! Oh dear, where are their parents?" He craddled the baby around, stealing glances at Crowley from time to time. "Just send it to the nearby police department. Tell them to find a parent who's missing a young lad with a lightning scar or whatever." Crowley sugguests, tossing his hands up into the air as a gesture.
"Oh look a letter!" Aziraphale gently pulls out the letter between the baby's blankets, opened it carefully and read it out loud.
"Take very good care of Harry Potter for us. His mother and father had died in a car accident recently. If not then please turn it in to No. 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging" Aziraphale ends the note with a sigh of worry.
"Little Whinging?! That's like-" Crowley blabbers out a pile of giberish before continuing, "Outside of London!"
"Well we could always miracle ourselves there." Aziraphale said. "I would like to take the child in but we have a whole situation of Armageddon happening." He frowned, looking at Crowley which seemed to melt his heart, if demons had one.
"Well- agh. Fine." Crowley snapped his hand in the air and the 3 get transported to Privet drive No. 4.
"You get to attached to things angel." Crowley shook his head lightly, smirking at Aziraphale. The angel stepped infront of the front porch and gently placed the baby down. "Poor little thing. Once he's 11 the world will end by then! Atleast he could live happily with his... well, foster parents."
"Well we could stop the whole doomsday thing perhaps. Hm?" Crowley tilted his head, a smug look on his face. He had long red curly hair and a jet-black coat. He also wore a loosely fitted tie around his collar and his posture was very snake like. Behind his Steampunk sunglasses was a pair of golden eyes, pupils shapped as a serpents.
Aziraphale, whose aura was most welcoming, had white, fluffy hair and a pair of blue eyes with star-shaped pupils. He wore a beige coat and a blue tartan vest topped of with a brown bowtire tied neatly around his collar. Beige pants and a pair of brown leather boots.
"No! It's part of the ineffable plan! I would be going against... Let's just talk tomorow." Aziraphale sighs another tired breath and rang the doorbell. "Welp, let's go angel." With that, the two dissapear back to SoHo, leaving the boy with the Dursleys.