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ffuturesThis is a crossover between the Harry Potter books, the Buffy The Vampire Slayer TV series, and the film Bedazzled (1967, not the 2000 remake), with some other crossovers and Easter eggs, so far including Dogma (1999). All characters belong to their respective creators / owners / megacorporations of doom and not to me, please don't sue...
IV - His Master's Voice
"Snape?" said the Metatron, "Never heard of her."
"Him," said Harry.
"I'm a sodding angel, do you really think we care about gender? We don't even bloody reproduce. I've got less equipment downstairs than one of those Action Man dolls."
"It's not a pretty sight," said Lucifer, "so please don't show us. Now would you mind telling me what you're doing here? I'm pretty sure that we had an agreement about this sort of thing."
"Would it kill you to offer me a coffee first?"
"Will you knock off the burning bush nonsense?"
The Metatron shrugged. "Great, suck all the fun out of things. Okay, let's talk." He sat down and drummed his fingers on the the arm-rest of his seat."
"Well?"
"Where's my coffee?"
"Lillian," shouted Lucifer, "let's have some more coffee, love, chop-chop. Your favourite angel is here!"
"Spare me," said the Metatron. "You know what she can be like, and we really don't have the time."
"So talk."
"It's really pretty simple. The boss is taking a big interest in this thing, really doesn't like the idea of people cheating death, so I was sent to talk to you. And before you ask, Mister Potter, God can't talk to mortals directly, your brains explode. I've seen it happen, so don't think I'm exaggerating. Any time God needs to get a message across muggins here gets sent down to find the relevant human and explain it. Congratulations, you're the relevant human."
"Why not smite him? Voldemort, that is, not Harry." said Halfrek. "It's not difficult, you terminate the bugger with extreme prejudice, then Harry lives happily ever after."
"It's not that simple. I hate to say it, but there's a bloody prophecy in play."
Lucifer stared. "You're letting a prophecy stop you from smiting someone?"
"Is the prophecy about me?" asked Harry.
"Dumbledore thinks so," said the Metatron, "and so does Riddle, and most of the other people who've heard it. Mostly because Dumbledore interpreted it that way but that's another story."
"And?"
"And if enough people believe something like that, especially if they're magical, it gets a lot of momentum. This has been building up since well before you were born. If nobody had paid any attention it wouldn't have had much effect, but right now it has to come down to a final fight between you and Riddle. Without direct divine intervention nobody else can kill that bugger permanently, and probably nobody else can kill you. This whole tournament has been about getting you into a position where Riddle can bring himself back to full life then try to kill you."
"And what, if anything," asked Lucifer, "does God plan to do about this?"
"Cheat, but she needs the kid to do it."
"She?" asked Harry.
"Do you really think it matters?" asked Lucifer. "Sometimes he's an old bugger with a beard, sometimes she's young and beautiful. Sometimes they're a hive mind or a sentient cactus. It can be bloody confusing sometimes, but whoever or whatever they are, they can obliterate this entire planet if it suits them. Fortunately for you, God really likes beetles and this planet's the only place they live right now so that probably won't be happening. The human race, on the other hand..."
"Will be just fine if they just manage to get their arse in gear," said the Metatron, "and unfortunately by 'they' I still mean you, mister Potter."
"No pressure, then," Halfreck said sarcastically.
"Just a minute," said Harry. "You said that the tournament was about getting Riddle to kill me. Does that mean that the people who are running it are involved in that?"
The Metatron shrugged. "Hmm... let's just say that some of them are hoping that your involvement will resolve the thing, one way or another."
"By me killing Voldemort, or Voldemort killing me."
"Riddle dies, the immediate problem is solved. You die, the prophecy is over. Which according to some people who should really know better..." He mimed stroking a beard "...will mean that Riddle's immunity ends, and anyone else can kill him."
"Dumbledore? Dumbledore is trying to kill me?"
"I'm sure he didn't intentionally set it up that way. Having said that, he doesn't seem to have done anything to stop the tournament from happening, or to get you out of it once your name came out of the goblet, which was definitely allowed by the rules. Too late now, of course."
"Bloody hell."
Lilian came in and with more coffee, and leaned over the tray to pour it, aiming her cleavage in the Metatron's direction.
He raised an eyebrow and said "Thank you, now run along." She pouted but left the room. "Woman knows I can't do anything sexual, I really don't understand why she wastes her time trying to seduce me."
"Easy," said Halfreck, "she was made that way. Talk to your boss if you don't like it."
"Okay," said Harry. "How's he doing it? Voldemort, I mean. Why doesn't he stay dead?"
"How would we know?" asked Lucifer. "None of us are omnipotent, God didn't want the competition. I can think of five or six different ways to make a human immortal, and I can guarantee that you wouldn't like any of them if you were involved. The cauldron narrows it down a bit, they're going to try to make him a new body, but it doesn't tell us how he's still around to need one."
"Did anyone ask God?" asked Harry. "Should I pray or something?"
"Don't," said the Metatron. "God knows you're not a believer, being a hypocrite really won't help. And it really doesn't matter anyway. God's going to deal with it. You just get through this thing alive, fight Riddle enough to show willing, they'll do the rest."
"I already did that," said Harry, "doesn't it count?"
"You might well think that, given that you killed the bugger at least twice, but apparently not, the prophecy still hasn't ended. Next time it will."
"Which brings up back to methods," said Halfreck. "Harry needs to get through this task. He needs to win, if he wants to keep the other contestants safe. What can we do that won't get him thrown out for cheating?"
The Metatron thought for a moment. "Luck's always useful. There's a potion that I've heard is quite useful for that. Felix something."
"Felix Felicis," said Halfreck. "It's banned for all sporting events including the Triwizard Tournament. The same with lucky amulets, rune tattoos, and so forth. They catch you, you automatically lose. I have actually read the rules, unlike some here."
"Bloody wizards really know how suck the fun out of things," said Lucifer.
"Wait a minute," said Harry, "what else happens if they catch me?"
"If it's before the task begins you're automatically disqualified, you can't compete, and you lose your magic."
"What about after?"
"If they spot something after the competition they disqualify you, but you wouldn't suffer any other penalty. Historically a lot of people have cheated in the tournament, but the contract only says they have to compete - once they've done that they're okay."
"So if I use this felix stuff to get through the task and everything else that gets thrown at me, I might be disqualified when it's all over but there's no other problem?"
"I think so. Did they check you for cheating during the previous tasks?"
"We were told what we could take with us. I don't think anyone actually checked we weren't breaking the rules, but Professor Moody knows a lot of weird spells and he has something like X-ray vision, it wouldn't surprise me if he'd spot something. But luck ought to protect me if I'm careful, so the thing that would probably catch me is the medical check after the task."
"Sounds good to me," said Lucifer.
"You can't take too much of the stuff," said Halfreck, "you'd be making weird decisions that worked out perfectly and people notice things like that. And when it wears off you might make bad decisions. A small dose should be okay, but nobody ever told me the correct dosage."
"Let's see," said Lucifer, snapping his fingers. A semi-transparant image of a vial of bubbling gold liquid appeared in the air. "I can't get the real thing while we have time stopped, but I know where to get it." The image rotated, revealing a tiny label.
Harry leaned forward to read it. "'One tablespoon with breakfast for a perfect day.'"
"That's about six months of a potion master's work," said Halfrek. "If you take it they're not going to be happy about it. Maybe we'll be asked for vengeance on you." She seemed to be cheered by the idea.
"I wouldn't worry," said Lucifer, "I'm actually doing him a favour. The idiot was thinking of using it for a gambling spree in Monte Carlo. I'd give it ten minutes before the casino's security wizards caught on."
"A tablespoon would be the dose for an adult," said Halfrek. "You really don't want to overdo it, this stuff can be toxic if you drink too much. Let's see... the task begins in the evening. A teaspoon is about a third of a tablespoon, if you take that with lunch it will give you a few hours to get used to it before the task begins at dusk. Take some more with you for emergencies but only drink it if you really need it. Make sure nobody spots you drinking it, of course."
"I think I can hide something that size," said Lucifer. "Better make it unbreakable too."
"Okay," said Harry, "that'll help." He grinned slightly. "They've been saying all along that I cheated to get into the competition, I wonder what they'll make of me turning myself in for cheating afterwards?"
"Pitch it right and you'll be praised for your honesty," said Halfrek.
"Riiiight. Like I was praised for saving the school from a basilisk, or saving my godfather from execution..."
"Fair point. All right, as soon as you're safe get rid of the vial, use a reductor spell to blow it up or something, at the medical mention that you felt weird during the task, can someone please check that you weren't poisoned or something, that sort of thing."
"That ought to work if you try to sound worried," said Lucifer. "Right, so far we've got a way for you to win the task, and hopefully get away if Voldemort does turn up. We need a way for you to get away if he catches you."
"Leave that with me," said the Metatron. "God will know where you are, and send whatever help you need if necessary."
Harry stared at him. "Before you turned up we were talking about the things that could go wrong if angels got involved. Burning cities, that sort of thing."
The Metatron grinned. "Those were the days, it's been a long time since any of us got a chance to really smite someone like that. But don't worry, this'll be more on the lines of someone tripping over their own feet when they're trying to stop you from escaping, that sort of thing. We can actually do subtle if necessary. Then once you're safe we'll bring in the big guns."
"Okay. What do we do next?"
"When we're ready I'll get you back to school," said Halfreck, "What's the time in the outside world now?"
Lucifer looked at an expensive-looking wrist watch. "Still a bit after three-thirty. I told you, time's pretty much stopped here. But you do need to leave before long, between me, Halfreck and the Metatron there's a lot of power gathered here, I can hold it for now but things will start to slip eventually."
"Once you're back at school just carry on normally," said Lucifer. "It'll take an hour or so for me to get the potion. We'll get it to you tomorrow, and of course Halfreck and I will be there to cheer you on."
"We will?" asked Halfreck.
"Naturally. But we'd better not bring the Metatron if there's someone there that looks like him, it could cause problems. Let's see... I know, since they've expanded the contest to include more than three champions, we're from another school looking into getting our own school involved."
Harry shook his head. "I'm pretty sure Dumbledore knows everyone important at all of the schools in Europe and the ICW countries, he'd spot something wrong."
"Any exceptions?"
"Doubt it."
"How about pretending to be reporters?" asked Halfreck.
"Everyone knows that I hate talking to reporters," said Harry. "It would take a lot of explaining."
"Will there be a big crowd there?" asked the Metatron.
"Biggish. Everyone from Hogwarts and another fifty or so from the other schools, and since it's the last event they'll probably have a lot of people there for the awards ceremony. I've heard the Minister will be there, so probably a load of Aurors too.
"What time will things start?"
"After the evening feast."
The Metatron frowned. "That rules out food sellers."
"We're over-thinking this," said Halfreck. "I had no trouble meeting Harry today, I'll just pose as a student again, stop people noticing me, and slip Harry the potion at lunch. Harry, if that's a standard medium-sized vial there will be two table-spoons in there, I'll give you three vials with a teaspoon-full and one containing the other table-spoon. Hmm... I can shrink them and make them look like Bertie Bott beans, but don't try to eat them, you'll get broken glass in your mouth. End the spell on them then remove the stopper like any other potions vial. Don't drink more than one unless you really have to."
"Sounds good to me," said Harry.
"Right then." Halfrek stood and stretched a little. "Let's get you back to school."
TBC
Action Man is the British equivalent of G.I. Joe.
"God really likes beetles" is a deliberate misquote - the original, attributed to biologist J.B.S. Haldane, was "If there is a Creator, he must have an inordinate fondness for beetles"
Some concepts regarding prophecy were suggested by Harry Potter and the Weasley Seer by Sarcasm Dragon FFN story 7866134
Comments please before I post to archives. For previous parts see:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
IV - His Master's Voice
"Snape?" said the Metatron, "Never heard of her."
"Him," said Harry.
"I'm a sodding angel, do you really think we care about gender? We don't even bloody reproduce. I've got less equipment downstairs than one of those Action Man dolls."
"It's not a pretty sight," said Lucifer, "so please don't show us. Now would you mind telling me what you're doing here? I'm pretty sure that we had an agreement about this sort of thing."
"Would it kill you to offer me a coffee first?"
"Will you knock off the burning bush nonsense?"
The Metatron shrugged. "Great, suck all the fun out of things. Okay, let's talk." He sat down and drummed his fingers on the the arm-rest of his seat."
"Well?"
"Where's my coffee?"
"Lillian," shouted Lucifer, "let's have some more coffee, love, chop-chop. Your favourite angel is here!"
"Spare me," said the Metatron. "You know what she can be like, and we really don't have the time."
"So talk."
"It's really pretty simple. The boss is taking a big interest in this thing, really doesn't like the idea of people cheating death, so I was sent to talk to you. And before you ask, Mister Potter, God can't talk to mortals directly, your brains explode. I've seen it happen, so don't think I'm exaggerating. Any time God needs to get a message across muggins here gets sent down to find the relevant human and explain it. Congratulations, you're the relevant human."
"Why not smite him? Voldemort, that is, not Harry." said Halfrek. "It's not difficult, you terminate the bugger with extreme prejudice, then Harry lives happily ever after."
"It's not that simple. I hate to say it, but there's a bloody prophecy in play."
Lucifer stared. "You're letting a prophecy stop you from smiting someone?"
"Is the prophecy about me?" asked Harry.
"Dumbledore thinks so," said the Metatron, "and so does Riddle, and most of the other people who've heard it. Mostly because Dumbledore interpreted it that way but that's another story."
"And?"
"And if enough people believe something like that, especially if they're magical, it gets a lot of momentum. This has been building up since well before you were born. If nobody had paid any attention it wouldn't have had much effect, but right now it has to come down to a final fight between you and Riddle. Without direct divine intervention nobody else can kill that bugger permanently, and probably nobody else can kill you. This whole tournament has been about getting you into a position where Riddle can bring himself back to full life then try to kill you."
"And what, if anything," asked Lucifer, "does God plan to do about this?"
"Cheat, but she needs the kid to do it."
"She?" asked Harry.
"Do you really think it matters?" asked Lucifer. "Sometimes he's an old bugger with a beard, sometimes she's young and beautiful. Sometimes they're a hive mind or a sentient cactus. It can be bloody confusing sometimes, but whoever or whatever they are, they can obliterate this entire planet if it suits them. Fortunately for you, God really likes beetles and this planet's the only place they live right now so that probably won't be happening. The human race, on the other hand..."
"Will be just fine if they just manage to get their arse in gear," said the Metatron, "and unfortunately by 'they' I still mean you, mister Potter."
"No pressure, then," Halfreck said sarcastically.
"Just a minute," said Harry. "You said that the tournament was about getting Riddle to kill me. Does that mean that the people who are running it are involved in that?"
The Metatron shrugged. "Hmm... let's just say that some of them are hoping that your involvement will resolve the thing, one way or another."
"By me killing Voldemort, or Voldemort killing me."
"Riddle dies, the immediate problem is solved. You die, the prophecy is over. Which according to some people who should really know better..." He mimed stroking a beard "...will mean that Riddle's immunity ends, and anyone else can kill him."
"Dumbledore? Dumbledore is trying to kill me?"
"I'm sure he didn't intentionally set it up that way. Having said that, he doesn't seem to have done anything to stop the tournament from happening, or to get you out of it once your name came out of the goblet, which was definitely allowed by the rules. Too late now, of course."
"Bloody hell."
Lilian came in and with more coffee, and leaned over the tray to pour it, aiming her cleavage in the Metatron's direction.
He raised an eyebrow and said "Thank you, now run along." She pouted but left the room. "Woman knows I can't do anything sexual, I really don't understand why she wastes her time trying to seduce me."
"Easy," said Halfreck, "she was made that way. Talk to your boss if you don't like it."
"Okay," said Harry. "How's he doing it? Voldemort, I mean. Why doesn't he stay dead?"
"How would we know?" asked Lucifer. "None of us are omnipotent, God didn't want the competition. I can think of five or six different ways to make a human immortal, and I can guarantee that you wouldn't like any of them if you were involved. The cauldron narrows it down a bit, they're going to try to make him a new body, but it doesn't tell us how he's still around to need one."
"Did anyone ask God?" asked Harry. "Should I pray or something?"
"Don't," said the Metatron. "God knows you're not a believer, being a hypocrite really won't help. And it really doesn't matter anyway. God's going to deal with it. You just get through this thing alive, fight Riddle enough to show willing, they'll do the rest."
"I already did that," said Harry, "doesn't it count?"
"You might well think that, given that you killed the bugger at least twice, but apparently not, the prophecy still hasn't ended. Next time it will."
"Which brings up back to methods," said Halfreck. "Harry needs to get through this task. He needs to win, if he wants to keep the other contestants safe. What can we do that won't get him thrown out for cheating?"
The Metatron thought for a moment. "Luck's always useful. There's a potion that I've heard is quite useful for that. Felix something."
"Felix Felicis," said Halfreck. "It's banned for all sporting events including the Triwizard Tournament. The same with lucky amulets, rune tattoos, and so forth. They catch you, you automatically lose. I have actually read the rules, unlike some here."
"Bloody wizards really know how suck the fun out of things," said Lucifer.
"Wait a minute," said Harry, "what else happens if they catch me?"
"If it's before the task begins you're automatically disqualified, you can't compete, and you lose your magic."
"What about after?"
"If they spot something after the competition they disqualify you, but you wouldn't suffer any other penalty. Historically a lot of people have cheated in the tournament, but the contract only says they have to compete - once they've done that they're okay."
"So if I use this felix stuff to get through the task and everything else that gets thrown at me, I might be disqualified when it's all over but there's no other problem?"
"I think so. Did they check you for cheating during the previous tasks?"
"We were told what we could take with us. I don't think anyone actually checked we weren't breaking the rules, but Professor Moody knows a lot of weird spells and he has something like X-ray vision, it wouldn't surprise me if he'd spot something. But luck ought to protect me if I'm careful, so the thing that would probably catch me is the medical check after the task."
"Sounds good to me," said Lucifer.
"You can't take too much of the stuff," said Halfreck, "you'd be making weird decisions that worked out perfectly and people notice things like that. And when it wears off you might make bad decisions. A small dose should be okay, but nobody ever told me the correct dosage."
"Let's see," said Lucifer, snapping his fingers. A semi-transparant image of a vial of bubbling gold liquid appeared in the air. "I can't get the real thing while we have time stopped, but I know where to get it." The image rotated, revealing a tiny label.
Harry leaned forward to read it. "'One tablespoon with breakfast for a perfect day.'"
"That's about six months of a potion master's work," said Halfrek. "If you take it they're not going to be happy about it. Maybe we'll be asked for vengeance on you." She seemed to be cheered by the idea.
"I wouldn't worry," said Lucifer, "I'm actually doing him a favour. The idiot was thinking of using it for a gambling spree in Monte Carlo. I'd give it ten minutes before the casino's security wizards caught on."
"A tablespoon would be the dose for an adult," said Halfrek. "You really don't want to overdo it, this stuff can be toxic if you drink too much. Let's see... the task begins in the evening. A teaspoon is about a third of a tablespoon, if you take that with lunch it will give you a few hours to get used to it before the task begins at dusk. Take some more with you for emergencies but only drink it if you really need it. Make sure nobody spots you drinking it, of course."
"I think I can hide something that size," said Lucifer. "Better make it unbreakable too."
"Okay," said Harry, "that'll help." He grinned slightly. "They've been saying all along that I cheated to get into the competition, I wonder what they'll make of me turning myself in for cheating afterwards?"
"Pitch it right and you'll be praised for your honesty," said Halfrek.
"Riiiight. Like I was praised for saving the school from a basilisk, or saving my godfather from execution..."
"Fair point. All right, as soon as you're safe get rid of the vial, use a reductor spell to blow it up or something, at the medical mention that you felt weird during the task, can someone please check that you weren't poisoned or something, that sort of thing."
"That ought to work if you try to sound worried," said Lucifer. "Right, so far we've got a way for you to win the task, and hopefully get away if Voldemort does turn up. We need a way for you to get away if he catches you."
"Leave that with me," said the Metatron. "God will know where you are, and send whatever help you need if necessary."
Harry stared at him. "Before you turned up we were talking about the things that could go wrong if angels got involved. Burning cities, that sort of thing."
The Metatron grinned. "Those were the days, it's been a long time since any of us got a chance to really smite someone like that. But don't worry, this'll be more on the lines of someone tripping over their own feet when they're trying to stop you from escaping, that sort of thing. We can actually do subtle if necessary. Then once you're safe we'll bring in the big guns."
"Okay. What do we do next?"
"When we're ready I'll get you back to school," said Halfreck, "What's the time in the outside world now?"
Lucifer looked at an expensive-looking wrist watch. "Still a bit after three-thirty. I told you, time's pretty much stopped here. But you do need to leave before long, between me, Halfreck and the Metatron there's a lot of power gathered here, I can hold it for now but things will start to slip eventually."
"Once you're back at school just carry on normally," said Lucifer. "It'll take an hour or so for me to get the potion. We'll get it to you tomorrow, and of course Halfreck and I will be there to cheer you on."
"We will?" asked Halfreck.
"Naturally. But we'd better not bring the Metatron if there's someone there that looks like him, it could cause problems. Let's see... I know, since they've expanded the contest to include more than three champions, we're from another school looking into getting our own school involved."
Harry shook his head. "I'm pretty sure Dumbledore knows everyone important at all of the schools in Europe and the ICW countries, he'd spot something wrong."
"Any exceptions?"
"Doubt it."
"How about pretending to be reporters?" asked Halfreck.
"Everyone knows that I hate talking to reporters," said Harry. "It would take a lot of explaining."
"Will there be a big crowd there?" asked the Metatron.
"Biggish. Everyone from Hogwarts and another fifty or so from the other schools, and since it's the last event they'll probably have a lot of people there for the awards ceremony. I've heard the Minister will be there, so probably a load of Aurors too.
"What time will things start?"
"After the evening feast."
The Metatron frowned. "That rules out food sellers."
"We're over-thinking this," said Halfreck. "I had no trouble meeting Harry today, I'll just pose as a student again, stop people noticing me, and slip Harry the potion at lunch. Harry, if that's a standard medium-sized vial there will be two table-spoons in there, I'll give you three vials with a teaspoon-full and one containing the other table-spoon. Hmm... I can shrink them and make them look like Bertie Bott beans, but don't try to eat them, you'll get broken glass in your mouth. End the spell on them then remove the stopper like any other potions vial. Don't drink more than one unless you really have to."
"Sounds good to me," said Harry.
"Right then." Halfrek stood and stretched a little. "Let's get you back to school."
TBC
Action Man is the British equivalent of G.I. Joe.
"God really likes beetles" is a deliberate misquote - the original, attributed to biologist J.B.S. Haldane, was "If there is a Creator, he must have an inordinate fondness for beetles"
Some concepts regarding prophecy were suggested by Harry Potter and the Weasley Seer by Sarcasm Dragon FFN story 7866134
Comments please before I post to archives. For previous parts see:
On Twisting the Hellmouth - https://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-34251/MarcusRowland+Harry+Potter+Undazzled.htm
On Fanfiction.net - https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14336114/1/Harry-Potter-Undazzled
On Archive of Our Own - https://archiveofourown.org/works/54407350
no subject
Date: 2025-08-09 11:48 pm (UTC)Shouldn't that be omniscient rather than omnipotent?
I continue to enjoy the amount of complaining people do in this fic.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-10 08:28 am (UTC)