Disclaimer: I do not own either Death Note or Harry Potter. Those rights belong to J.K. Rowling and Tsugumi Ohba. In addition, the original mastermind behind the idea of this piece is Somethingsable. Since this is my first attempt at creating fanfiction, I decided to start with a story that I can follow as a guideline before creating something that originates from me. The story will be re-written and the ideas will end up deviating from the original. I have received permission to adopt this story, and I seek to do a good job adapting it to my own needs. On that note, the original pairing will remain the same, but I am toying with the idea of starting Harry with a relationship to someone else before he ends up with Light.

Warnings: This fic will eventually involve slash, as stated above in my author's note. There will also be signs of neglect, death, violence, etc. I will add more to the warnings as the story goes on.

Key:

'Thought'

{Shinigami Speech}

"Regular Dialogue"

1. Questions always lead to more questions

.-.

Harry peered down at the small caterpillar in fascination as it crawled over the blade of his shovel. It seemed to quiver in the sunlight anxiously before it fell into the blissful shade that the grass had to offer. The sun created an unbearable heat as its rays caressed the pale boy's skin in a sadistic embrace. Ignoring the onset signs of dehydration, his dark colored eyes followed the progression of the caterpillar as it lazily crawled across the dirt until a spider snagged it for an early afternoon meal. Fixated with the sight, bare toes curled in the warm dirt as Harry remained crouched close to the ground tiredly. He did not want to move; even when the rustling wind blew his thick ink, black colored bangs into his eyes. Instead, he waited for the yelling.

Everything in the garden had been carefully cared for except for the watering. He would require his aunt's approval in regards to how the lawn appeared first before he would be able to use the hose on the parched plants. It would be then that he could sneak a few sips of the blessed water in an attempt to cool his overheated body down. Perhaps he could even soak himself with the water as well. It was not as if his aunt would be able to tell the difference, especially since his overly large shirt was already drenched with sweat. Parts of the fabric clung to his body uncomfortably, but he ignored the feeling in favor of watching the spider longingly. He wished that he could be that strong, but unfortunately he was like the caterpillar and his relatives were like the spider. The only difference was, they preferred to keep him alive to tend for them instead of ending his life quickly.

Harry knew that his discomfort probably brought them entertainment if anything else. He learned early on in life that the Dursleys were horrible human beings. The more that he observed them, the more his disgust grew but he kept his opinions quiet. He did not want to chance finding himself locked inside of his 'room' without food or water again. He was thin enough as it was, but his body had adapted in order to survive. Scoffing slightly at the idea, he wondered how he had been capable of surviving like this in the first place. He was by now means stupid and had noticed how different he was from the other children his age, but he just could not understand what made him different.

Harry did know, however, that his relatives feared that difference and that was why they despised him. One would think that their soon to be twelve-year-old son would be less prejudice and remain innocent from his parents' influence, but that was untrue. If anything, Dudley was trained by his father to be hateful and to inflict pain on others who were weaker than he was. It appeared as if Dudley took those lessons to heart and even worshiped his father for his 'words of wisdom'. To say the least, Vernon was very pleased that his son was following his example despite the fact that they could almost pass for twins.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust at the thought, Harry could not help but scowl as he recalled the only redeeming quality the Dursleys thought he had. It was discovered quite early on that he had an intellectual level that surpassed children his age. At first, his relatives had been positively furious at his freakishness, but when they discovered that his intelligence could be used to make Dudley look better, they let it slide. In fact, Petunia took him to the library every other day for an hour to make sure he absorbed the knowledge he would need to write stellar reports for her 'Dudleykins'. Naturally, Harry found himself doing most of his cousin's homework while being told to seem less intelligent in his own schoolwork.

Acknowledging the fact that his schooling was the only way he could possible make something out of himself, Harry simply stopped bringing his report cards home and learned rather quickly how to forge his uncle's signature on paperwork requesting that he skip a few grades. Naturally, he declined such requests to prevent his relatives from becoming suspicious, but it was nice to know that he could have excelled quickly if he had been given the choice. At the same time, his relatives were stuck explaining the reason behind his cousin's test scores while his homework seemingly appeared perfect. Naturally, it was explained that Dudley had an extreme case of test anxiety and everything was left at that.

Reluctantly moving from his spot, Harry made his way over to the large shaded tree that oversaw the lawn. Moving over, he sat down and leaned against the bark with a soft sigh. He knew that everything his relatives had done to him was unjust, but there was nothing he could do about it. After reading multiple books on law, he knew that he had a case he could present to court, but who would possibly listen to an eleven-year-old boy? The police almost seemed reluctant to do their job properly, despite the fact that he had literally called an officer and reported his abuse. They merely assumed that it was a prank call and told him to call when there was a real emergency.

Why would a child make up such things as being locked up in a cupboard during the night, or being starved for not cooking a meal properly? He failed to see why anyone would lie about that, but apparently, the officer he had spoke to had better things to do then investigate a case of abuse. He was almost tempted to all them up again and report the fact that his uncle was continuously stealing money from the company he worked for, but that could easily be covered and he would get the beating of his life just for trying. The world was a disgusting place filled with crime an injustice, his relatives taught him that much. He wished that the world could be taken over by storm and obtain the same type of justice that both Japan and America experienced only little more then ten years prior. Sure, he was completely against killing, acknowledging that the act was wrong but there was a small part of him that screamed it was right if justice was rightfully served.

Why should child molesters and murders be allowed to roam the streets just because the police could not properly do their jobs? Or, what about all of the children who are abused and are unable to escape their abusers? On the other hand, what about the serial killers like Jeffery Dahmer who were caught much too late, leaving a line of victims behind them as a result. The world was a dark and cruel place, and it appeared as if justice was having a hard time winning the battle between good and evil.

The world was a like a large chessboard, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that justice was about to be placed in a checkmate. Scowling suddenly as his thoughts were interrupted by a shrill screech, Harry lazily turned his attention to the harpy he call his aunt.

"Get back to work you lazy worthless boy! We take you in out of the goodness of our hearts, and here you are lazing around! Get the hose and start watering the plants before they wilt!" Petunia screeched, causing Harry to sigh. He knew that they kept him not out of pity but because of the hefty government check that they received every month. Reluctantly standing up, he made his way towards the hose to prepare to water the garden. 'Welcome back to hell Mr. Potter, your reality has returned.' Harry thought to himself with a grim smirk.

.-.

{I want to travel to the human world. I am sick of seeing the same old darkness all the time. I am sick of all the gambling! It is the same damn thing every day. I hear that the human world is interesting! It holds corruption and has governments that are on the verge of collapsing. I want to go there.} A young shinigami grumbled with a soft sigh. He was new to a world that required the consumption of souls in order to survive. He was still young enough to retain most of his human features with the exception of the large, black, leathery wings that protruded from his back. He was not used to immortality just yet, especially since he understood that this had to be a punishment of sorts.

He had briefly visited the world that most humans called paradise, and he had briefly visited hell before he was set here in no man's land. He wanted an escape, yet he understood that his existence was a necessarily. Without creatures like him, souls would not be ferried to the netherworlds. Without creatures like him, there would be many vengeful spirits roaming around the world with nowhere to go. Despite knowing this, he wanted more with his life. He wanted something to appease his boredom, if only for a little while. The young shinigami had heard that the first years of obtaining immortality was the worse, especially when you did not lose your human features, but he did not know it would be like this. He knew that his mentor Ryuk was pleased to stay by his side, especially since he acted as if he had created him. Perhaps he had, but he did not remember any of it.

In fact, he did not remember much of anything. The older shinigami had told him that human memories were the first to be consumed in this world, which was a shame. He longed to remember his previous life, but he was repeatedly told that it was an impossible feat and to not long for a past that he would never be able to revisit again. Fortunately, Ryuk understood his intense desire things and decided to supply him with his own stories of the past. It soothed him to know that he could create a new set of memories, but how was that going to happen if he was stuck in this damn boring world?

Zoning out as he listened to Ryuk, he knew the story that the older shinigami was going to tell him. It was the same story he heard every time, but this time it struck a chord. Maybe he could go to the human realm and create a show for himself, a new set of memories that he could be proud of. With this in mind, the young shinigami stretched out his wings and left Ryuk behind.

Watching his departure, Ryuk could not help but grin slightly. {It is a boring place here, but it's boring down there as well. I was lucky to find the man who tried to change the world. Things were interesting.} He remarked while watching the retreating figure. {Maybe someone will pick up your notebook and you will feel the same thrill I experienced Light. Maybe you'll be lucky.}

.-.

Well, thank you all for reading this chapter. I am looking for a beta so if you are interested, send me a pm. Also, please review and tell me how I am doing so far. This really is my first fanfiction, so any suggestions will be appreciated.