arionrhod (arionrhod) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2008-01-29 20:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: pg13, trading places challenge |
Trading Places Fic - Cupid's Little Helper - PG13 - 1/4
Title: Cupid's Little Helper, Part 1/4
Author: arionrhod
Rating: PG-13
Challenge: Trading Places
Word Count: ~21,100
Summary: The Afterlife isn't what Sirius Black expected it to be... but coming back to Earth with a "mission" isn't much better!
Notes: This story is based on karasu_hime's drawing, A Sort of Fairytale. I was SO fortunate that Karasu drew this beautiful piece for me during Snusa, and I love it! I was also fond of the prompt I came up with that she based it on, so I couldn't resist writing the story. I owe a huge debt of thanks to scribbulus_ink for her enormous input to the story and her incredible beta-ing job - McKay, you ROCK! There is also a huge nod in this story to Piers Anthony's "Incarnations of Immortality" series - anyone who has read it will get the references at once. Karasu - I hope you enjoy it!!!! Thank you SO much for the beautiful art, which as brought me a great deal of happiness!!!!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
"What do you mean, I have to fill out the paperwork in triplicate? Why do I have to fill out bloody paperwork at all? What kind of afterlife is this?"
Sirius Black leaned over the desk of the young receptionist in the Purgatory Office of Expiration Appeals, his cheeks flushed and eyes glittering with frustration. The woman, barely out of her teens and sporting a set of scars along the length of her forearms, was unperturbed by his anger, and she merely pointed to the stack of paper she'd pushed across the desk to him.
"I don't make the rules, Mr. Black. I just hand out the forms," she said in a toneless voice, as though she didn't care if he took the forms or not. "When you fill out the forms, they will be reviewed by a caseworker, who will contact you with a decision as to the status of your appeal. That can take anywhere from four to six months, depending on how thorough your application is. The more information you provide, the more likely it is that a caseworker will actually look at your application."
Sirius clenched his teeth so hard that his jaw popped. Technically, that shouldn't even have been possible as he didn't have a body any longer. But the man - well, disembodied soul - who had been his Orientation and Counseling advisor had explained that his life force (or spirit, or soul, or ghost, or Ka, or anything else he wished to call the collection of thoughts and memories which defined the entity once known as Sirius Black), as well as those of the others inhabiting Purgatory, dealt best with visualizing a collective reality which resembled the one they had been familiar with in life. This meant bodies which seemed solid, and buildings, and the need to eat and sleep, although he had been informed that none of it was actually real, just figments his imagination. For a figment, it seemed bloody real, so much so that his jaw hurt, and he could feel the vein in his temple beginning to pound.
Pounding a fist on the desk - which wasn't real, either, but still hurt his hand - so hard that the pile of not-papers jumped, Sirius leaned closer. "You're telling me that even if I fill out this enormous pile of dreck and give it back to you, there's no guarantee anyone will read it? Is that any way to operate a government?"
"Technically, this isn't a government, even though I am a civil servant. There are no elections here," the woman replied, one side of her mouth turning up into a sour smile, the first sign of any emotion Sirius had seen on her face. It was a little perturbing, the way that she ignored his good looks and charm, which had been the only two things he'd brought across with him when the backlash of Bellatrix' curse had blasted him through that thrice-damned Veil and into this infernal place. Which wasn't actually Infernal, he'd been informed; Hell had a six month backlog for admittance, since there were so many souls headed there, while Heaven had an "open a new register if there are more than three people in line" policy. From what he had seen of the entrances to the Higher Plane, the one checkpoint was all that was ever likely to be needed.
Government or no, corporeal body or no, Sirius was on the verge of a temper tantrum. This was unconscionable, the nonsense he was having to put up with. It had taken over a year in Purgatory to even find out that he had a right to appeal! And now that he was here to exercise his rights, he was being stonewalled at every turn; well, this wouldn't be allowed to go on. His own job at the Purgatory Department of Janitorial Services was little more than torture, but unfortunately, there was no other option at this point, or so he'd been told. Souls in Purgatory helped to keep Purgatory functioning, and "everyone" had to do their part. It wasn't just a job; it was a compulsion. An irresistible one, as it turned out. He showed up for work every day whether he willed it or not. The lack of choice was one thing that made him question Purgatory's declared neutrality in the whole Good versus Evil debate.
"I want to see a case worker now!" he snapped, wishing that he could change into Padfoot and really scare the woman. Unfortunately, his Animagus ability, as well as all his magic, hadn't made it through the Veil any more than his wand did. He'd been told there were Equal Opportunity Laws governing the situation, and if he had a complaint, he could file a form with the Purgatory Department of Complaints, but not to expect any response in less than three working years. Backlog, you know.
"I'm afraid that's impossible until you fill out the paperwork - and hitting me will only get you fined, sir. Six additional months of waiting for any application or complaint to be reviewed by any Department, in perpetuity, additive. I don't make the rules, Mr. Black, and I can neither change them nor circumvent them, any more than you can avoid going to work every morning whether you want to or not."
Sirius groaned and lowered his hand. He'd not really been about to strike her, but he realized he had to take out his frustration on something before he went completely mental. This was no life - or afterlife, rather - for anyone, and he was desperate to do whatever it took to get out of here.
Eying the stack of papers, he sighed, then reached out to take them. "I take it I have to fill these out in blue or black ink?" he asked morosely, resigned to going through this useless exercise. It might come to naught, but he had to try. Things were so bad now, he didn't know how it was possible for them to get any worse.
"No sir, in blood," the receptionist replied, then pinned on the bright false smile Sirius remembered seeing on the faces of far too many civil servants in the real world, the ones who knew that they had you over a barrel and counted it as a tiny victory in their otherwise pointless lives - or deaths, in this case. "Have a nice afterlife, and please come back when you're through. Remember, the Office of Expiration Appeals is here to serve you!"