What's Love Got To Do With It

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did, the ending would have been awesome and not so clichéd and anti-climactic. *Whispers* and H/Hr would have been together. *Grins*

Summary: Voldemort is dead. But enter Heaven he must understand what love is and in order to understand he must perform the task of getting three couples to admit their love for each other. This is not meant to be taken seriously at all, its just clean fun and Voldemort might seem OOC at times. R/Lu, D/G, H/Hr

A/N: This is my first HP fanfiction in years, it’s a challenge issued by Ancient Werewolf, it will feature, R/Lu, D/G, and H/Hr in that order. I hope you all enjoy this and that the humor is good, I hope its not too corny, but still fun and funny. This is completely ignoring the epilogue in the DH. It will take place at Hogwarts since everyone has to repeat their seventh year. I hope that no one minds about that.

What’s Love Got to Do With It?

Prologue

‘What’s going on here?’

‘Why do I feel…off?’

The sound of someone clearing their throat alerted the ‘thing’ lying on his back. Blinking once, Voldemort opened his eyes and was staring up into fathomless blue sky. His red orbs shifted from side to side, he couldn’t take in any scent since he didn’t have a nose which to smell anything.

“I surely hope you don’t plan on lying there for all eternity?” Said a growing annoyed voice. “I am increasingly busy, you know. I have other souls to tend with, so can you at least do me the courtesy to at least look at me while I speak to you?”

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed in contempt, ‘how dare that fool use sarcasm in my presence. I will strike him down where he stands’ And he reached for his wand to find that… it was gone! He turned his head in the direction of the voice to find a man standing behind a podium of what looked like pearl. The man was dressed in a long flowing robe of pristine white, and there was something gold circling the top of his head. Voldemort wondered if perhaps he had somehow gotten sucked into some anime altered realty where big warriors with hair that managed to stick up in all directions from other planets fought each other for control. Anyone who challenged the world with fear was okay in Voldemort’s book.

“Finally…” the robed man replied in exasperation.

Lifting to his feet, Voldemort glared evilly at the man who didn’t seem at all phased by his deathly evil stare, which was odd. He usually strikes fear into all those who even heard his name.

“I can tell by the look on your face that you are confused,” the robed man replied.

“No.” Voldemort replied, not wanting to let the man know that he was indeed confused. “You will obey my every command! Now then, first tell me where the hell I am I.”

The robed man rolled his eyes. “As you wish,” he was annoyed already. It was ridiculous that they just didn’t send this weirdo down to the fiery pits. After all that he has done, that’s where he should go. Yet, the most supreme being, the big G-O-D thought it would be a grand idea to see if one could actually pull goodness out of him and then perhaps this weirdo could rest within the pearly gates that would appear before him. St. Peter wasn’t a betting man, but in this case, he’d put his money on this wizard to be sent down to hell.

“Soo, you wanna bet?” A pointy horned demon poked his head up through the clouds and said with a purr and his yellow eyes all a glow with glee.

St. Peter growled and reached behind him for the broom, grabbing it and twirling in the air like a warrior, then he began poking the demon in the head while saying, “get back down there, You! Get, get!”

The demon screamed, “Ow! Stop poking me with that thing, will ya?!” being continuously poked gave the demon several swollen bumps on his head. He simply humpfed, crossed his scaly arms and fled from that dangerous weapon the saint had. “No wonder no one wants to bet with you, you get so violent.” was the demon’s last echoing words.

Taking a deep breath and setting the broom back where it had been, St. Peter turned with an all calm expression on his face. He folded his hands on the podium. “Sorry about that. Now, where were we?”

Voldemort’s left eye brow, or what there was of it, arched. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“This is no joke, Tom,” he heard the weirdo growl. “That is your name and it’s how I will address you. Now, if it were up to me I would have tossed you down to hell myself.” He gripped the podium edge tightly, leaning over it, “Lucky for you it’s not up to me. It’s up to the ‘Big Guy’ and he wants to see you prove yourself that you are worthy to enter HEAVEN’S GATES.” he said deep and dramatically, gesturing to the, now sparkling in the sun, golden gates that stood before them.

“Hold up a moment, I’m dead?” Voldemort said, while gesturing to himself.

“As a doornail,” St. Peter replied.

Voldemort growled and squeezed his hands tightly in bitter rage, “That little brat, he killed me?! Impossible! I am the great and powerful Lord Voldemort, I… I strike fear in the hearts of all those around me… I’m the greatest terror know to the entire wizarding and literary world! I’m…I’m a pose-able doll!” From behind his back where magically all RPG game characters and cartoon characters alike pulled out strange un-normal to carry objects, he shoved his action figure out in front of him where the wand did a little flick motion when pushing the button on the back of the doll. He moved his figure’s arms and legs about in ‘karate kicking motions’.

St. Peter, who was merely leaning on his hand that was propped up by his elbow on the podium looking relatively bored, took a glance towards the readers of this fanfiction arching his left brow, then turned his gaze back to Tom. “Are you quite done? Eternity is wasting. I can picture the tumble weeds blowing by as we speak.”

“Hey, the next time you’re killed by a boy no older than seventeen, who had not even graduated from school yet happens, perhaps you’ll have a bit more sympathy for me.” He crossed his arms and looked away from the Saint in a huff.

St. Peter rolled his eyes once again, “Alright, I’m sorry for not showing you, a murdering psycho, a little sympathy.”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated,” Voldemort replied with narrowed eyes.

Feeling the frustration growing, St. Peter decided to cut right to the chase. “In order for you to enter these sacred gates…” He patted the gold bar. “…You’ll have to convince ‘The Lord.’ That you understand what love is, and in order to understand what that emotion is all about, you must help three couples come together in that of which you know not.”

“Why would I even want to go to your so-called Heaven anyway? What if I want to go to hell?” Voldemort said with a grin.

“I don’t know,” St. Peter said while putting his finger to his chin, “You might want to be dipped in boiling oil and then impaled in iron spikes over and over again, while swallowing raging bees on a daily basis for at least a century, and then they get really creative. I know I wouldn’t want something like that. I would rather lounge in relaxation living out my greatest fantasies.”

Voldemort cringed inside, maybe the boiling oil was not exactly what he wanted. But that fantasy thing was a good alternative. Even though he didn’t follow most muggle sports, this one would be thrilling! He could imagine ripping Harry Potter’s head off and using it as a football, he’d have little white and black octagons painted on it and he’d kick it around for hours making goal after goal. He laughed insanely, it was perfect, perfect! “Hmm, you’ve convinced me. So what do I have to do?”

“You have one year, that’s only three hundred and sixty five days to unite three couples.” St. Peter pulled out of thin air, Voldemort’s first assignment. He held it out to him. “No one is allowed to see or hear you. You must remain completely invisible at all times. And no you directly telling them how they feel either even if it’s as obvious as a kick in the pants. You must let them come together on their own while you provide the signals and anvil sized hints to lead them to these conclusions of love for each other. Once the couple admits out loud, and that I hear it, that they love each other, you will be able move onto the next set.”

Voldemort took the scroll, “Bah, this’ll be walk in the park.” He said with a wave of his hand.

St. Peter laughed, “So that’s what you think, is it?” He snickered, “If you run into a bit of a snag, you may contract assistance, but it can only be from someone who is already dead, so make your choice wisely because you only get one.” He lifted his hand in the air, making the number one.

Voldemort scoffed, “Not that I will need assistance, but if I do… how will I summon the help?”

“You must think the name of the assistant and they will automatically appear before you and this person will know exactly what you are up to.” St. Peter grinned. “Anymore questions?”

“So, if I fulfill these love connections.” Voldemort said while starting to open the scroll, “I’ll be allowed to enter Heaven?”

“We’ll see. It depends on how good a job you do and if you understand what the meaning of love is.”

“Very well, I accept!” Voldemort then groaned as he unrolled the scroll, reading the names written there.

Ronald Weasley and Luna Lovegood.

He felt nauseous just thinking about it, how was he going to stomach this? He didn’t have more time to ponder on it as he felt his body suddenly plummeting towards the Earth. He would do this, he would get through those gates. Even if he had to lie his way through. It was time to form the plan to get Weasley and Lovegood together.

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Well what do you think. I might up the rating a bit the more it gets into the story, but as it is right now. PG13 is a decent enough rating ^.^

I hope you liked it.

Ryoko Blue