A/N I know a lot of you are asking ridiculous questions about the story. You are digging to deep into it. Use your imaginations, I am not going to write a whole other story explaining this one. Also I am quitting fanfiction. I actually wasn't going to post this chapter but I remembered how many good stories I read that never had an ending and how much that annoyed me. So here you go.
This chapter is un-edited. I corrected spelling and all the grammar that the computer caught but I did not re-read it. So don't bug me about it, I know it isn't perfect.
A blacked haired man around the age of 78 had found himself waiting in a long line. Everyone around him looked distort almost as if they were dead. It was a crazy idea, surely this had to be a dream. The last thing the man could remember was going to sleep.
Soon he saw large things that resembled a small troll glaring at everyone who was in line. They carried clubs but didn't use them, even when one of the people in the line tried running off.
The 78 year old turned to a middle-aged woman that was behind him. "Where are we?"
The woman was pale and wide-eyed. She kept on looking behind her as if someone where following her. "Do you see him?" she hissed. "He was in the house with me… I remember he found me, but I don't remember what happened after that. Someone must have saved me and took me here…" she looked away and ignored his question.
After what seemed like ages the man found himself in front of two large doors. He realized they must be made for people as big as trolls. One of the creatures gestured for him to go through the doors. The man strolled forward.
Once inside the doors slammed shut behind him. He was in a room that looked like an office. It was extremely tidy. The walls were filled with filling cabinets that shrunk the room's appearance. The man suddenly realized he wasn't in the room alone. Straight ahead of him was a redheaded young man who sat behind a wooden desk.
"Hello," the redheaded man said. He was smiling cheerfully. He picked up a small stack of paper that was in front of him and began to read. Suddenly his eyes widened and his smile turned into a large grin. "You're Harry Potter!" he said.
"The sixth," Harry corrected him.
"Oh I have to tell Harry…" The redhead man jumped up and walked over to Harry. "I'm Ronald Weasley, I knew your," he paused for a minute. He looked down at his fingers and began to count. "Great-great-great-great-great grandfather!"
Harry starred at him blankly. How could he possibly know his great-great-great grandfather? "That's impossible!"
Ron's grin faded. "Oh so I guess you didn't realize yet."
"Realize what?" Harry the fourth said.
"Well you're dead. It says here," Ron read the paper he was holding. "You die twenty days ago in your sleep."
"Impossible!" he repeated.
Ron shrugged. "Not in here. I should explain some things. Right now you are in judgment and I am your judge, but don't worry I'm fair."
Harry's face went pale. "How are you going to judge me?"
"Well we have a new system on how we judge people. Follow me please." Ron led him to a large golden scale that was in the very back of the room. "Now I'm sure you heard something about this before. On one sides your sins will be placed on the other your good deeds. If your good deeds are higher then your sins then you go to Heaven and if not you're stuck in Hell with the rest of your family."
Harry gulped. "Hell?"
Ron laughed. "Don't worry. Hell isn't as bad as it used to be. The only time you will have to go through real suffering is if you killed, rapped, or so on and by the look of it you haven't. So are you ready?"
"What's Hell like?" Harry wanted to prepare himself. He had always thought of the worse.
"It's like Earth, really. You get assigned a job though, but it's based on all of your good qualities. You have to work but you also get a house and can start an new family!"
It was Harry's turn to laugh. "I'm too old to do that."
"Nonsense! I'm 400 years old then you and I started a new family. Anyway if you volunteer your time enough you could get enough points to go into our age machine. It gives you the ability to turn your physical appearance to any age! There are other things you can win too like your wand, a better job, a nicer house but people usually go for the age thing first."
Harry nodded his head. "Sounds good." He paused for a minute. Hell didn't seem too terrible, but if Hell was this good he wanted to know what Heaven was like.
Ron knew what he was thinking. "Heaven is a place where there is no such thing as pain, sadness, or hatred. Barley anyone gets to go there. It's usually only the innocent. We should get to the weighing. There are a lot of other people out there."
Ron turned towards the scale and tapped his wand on it. Quickly the sin side rose up while the good deed side sank down. "Well that's too bad." Ron said. "If you would please go through the left door"
Harry was about to open his mouth to say something but Ron pushed him away. He had other things to attend to. Once the left door had fully closed Ron ran over to the doors leading to the long line. He opened them and put a sign on it that said, "Be back whenever." There was a loud moan from everyone who could see it.
Usually Ron didn't do things like this but seeing Harry the fourth reminded him of someone that he needed to visit. In a few hours Ron was in the middle of Hell. Where he was had once been a desert wasteland was now covered with bright grass. There was a small hole in the ground that was Draco's house.
Ron walked down the steps of the hole. He didn't knock because he knew Draco wasn't going to answer. Draco was in his normal position. He was sitting on a molding brown couch starring at the dirt floor. "Hey," Ron said. Draco didn't answer. "You wouldn't guess who just came today…"
"After the first five times I think I would know," Draco snapped. He did not care about Harry Potter the sixth, fifth, fourth, three, second, and especially the first one.
Ron sat down on the couch next to Draco. Draco was supposed to be the new leader of Hell. Everyone wanted him to do the job. He refused though. There was uproar and he was caused to flee for 200 years. Ron quickly took his place. He set up a government and a set of laws. Hell was turned into Earth Part 2, which a lot of people already considered Hell.
It wasn't that way for everyone though. People who were murders and rapists had it the worst. Whatever crime they committed while on Earth would be forced upon them in Hell over and over again until they begged for annihilation.
Ron had also made an agreement with the angels. The agreement was that every 200 years five people would be sent back to Earth to try and redeem themselves. These people would be sent with a mission and often ended up known as saviors. From the 400 years that had passed none of the ten had returned.
"It's been 400 years," Ron said. He didn't make eye contact with Draco but joined Draco at starring blankly at the wall.
"That's nothing," Draco whispered. "I still have the rest of eternity."
Ron had taken a liking to Draco soon after the battle with Satan. His liking began during the 200 years he had not seen Draco. Ron realized if he felt this bad about Hermione he really did have a heart after all. "It's not your fault." Ron said quietly.
Draco shot his expression towards Ron. "Everyday that battle is celebrated here. Everyday people come up and ask to take a picture of me. Everyday I am reminded how I couldn't save her life." Draco shoved his head into his hands. "I've got to get away."
"No!" Ron snapped. "No you need to get out of this hole and face the world. You need to take your position as the leader and make sure everyone is treated correctly so that something like that will never happen again!"
"That's your job. I don't care about these people. They mean nothing to me." Draco stood up from the couch. He started to pace the room. "Take me to the city."
Ron looked at him with shock. The city was the last place he would have thought of taking Draco. "It's full of people."
"Exactly, no one will notice me."
That's exactly what happened. The city was as crowded as ever. There was almost no room to move and people were frustrated because they were going to be late to work. Draco spotted a man with a briefcase arguing with a man in a leather jacket. He would never know what the argument was about but the man in the leather jacket picked up the man with the briefcase and tossed him into the middle of the street. The cars never stopped. The man got hit and splattered all over the road. No one paid any attention.
Ron noticed what Draco was looking at. "We can't fix everything." He pointed out.
"Again I don't care." Draco didn't mean it. That man never hit someone with a car. Why should he have got hit in Hell, where the pain is ten times worse and he feels his body shattering.
People did notice who Draco was. They didn't say anything. The only thing that they acknowledged that they knew was when every Ron and Draco walked by people would move out of the way. Everyone wanted to get onto Ron's good side because he was the one who chose who got a second chance or not.
"I found out some interesting while you were away." Ron was trying to break the silence between him and Draco.
"Really." Draco was uninterested.
"Yeah," Ron said. He ignored Draco tone of voice. "I figured out sometimes people are sent here only because they have a guilty conscious." Ron waited for Draco's reaction. When there wasn't one Ron decided Draco didn't understand what he was saying. "I mean they send themselves to Hell even though they don't belong here. It's amazing how large of a part guilt can play."
This caught Draco's attention. "Can their guilt go away?"
Ron's expression brightened. It reminded Draco oddly of Ron's father. "Of course! That's how we found out about it. Random people would just disappear off of our charts. It was because their consciousness was clear. I think the whole idea is outstanding."
"Yes outstanding," Draco murmured. He lost his train of thought. He had seen a blonde haired couple. They had walked into a small café. "Let's go in here." Draco said quickly. Something about those people caught his eye. He walked into the café without waiting for Ron. Because of the crowd in the city Ron had no idea where Draco had gone.
Draco quickly spotted the blonde haired couple. They were easy to find because they didn't have just regular blonde hair they had white blonde hair, just like Draco. Draco quietly walked over to the couple. He didn't want them to see him so he kept his distance. He just wanted a good view of their faces. He walked around the table and up the counter to make it look like he was ordering something. He leaned his arms against the counter and causally looked over his shoulder at the couple.
His dead heart had stopped. Looking grimly at their coffee was Draco's parents. They had wrinkles around every section of their face. They had grown old and lived a complete life. Draco suddenly felt his heart being lifted. He had saved his parents life. He no longer had to worry if his suicide was the death of his parents. They lived well after his death.
Draco wanted to run over and great them but the room became foggy. He wasn't sure what was going on. The voices around him seemed to disappear. He jumped as he felt a hand go onto his shoulder. It was a soft touch that caused Draco to turn his head to see who it was. Draco's eyes opened wide as he saw a transparent figure of Hermione.
She smiled at him. "It's time to go Draco."
Draco felt a sudden chill of happiness. He knew that Hermione no longer felt any pain. "But why?" he asked.
Hermione's hand left Draco's shoulder and took his hand instead. "You know why," she responded in astonishingly peaceful voice, "there is nothing bounding you here anymore."
Draco finally returned the smile. He knew she was right. He no longer felt that it was his fault for his parent's death.
"Come," Hermione said one last time. Draco nodded his head as the rest of the room began to fill with fog. Hermione squeezed his hand as she led him towards the light.