Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor Death Note

Pairing: HP/L

"Ten Little Soldier Boys went out to dine;

One choked his little self and then there were nine."

Hadrian Black, also known as Phoenix when performing, woke up around 11 o'clock feeling sleepy. He knew he shouldn't have spent the whole night awake, but he couldn't help it.

After gulping down a very much needed dose of caffeine, he decided to spend the rest of the morning in the library and go "work" after lunch. Hadrian met Beth Fox around the crime novel section, organizing the bookshelf.

Since he was already familiar with the library's organizing system, he went to her left side and begun to work.

"This is your favorite section, isn't it?" She said after a while.

"Yes, it is." The street performer answered. After a few minutes of silence, he sighed. "Hey, Beth?"

"Yes?" She said absent-mindedly.

"Do you have any suggestions for me? I have already read the books I took last time."

"Go to the next shelf. Agatha Christie's books are there." Beth answered.

"Thank you." He said as he finished the shelf he was organizing and left.

Hadrian selected a few books from the suggested author, "The A.B.C. Murders", "And Then There Were None" and "Murder in Mesopotamia". As he went to sign out the novels, he saw that the volunteer at the counter was looking at Beth's direction with a worried expression.

"What happened?" The performer asked.

The elderly woman snapped out of her trance. "I'm sorry, dearie, I didn't see you there." She sneaked another glance at Beth as she took the pile of books from his hands. "It's just… Her father was killed yesterday night. I guess it hasn't yet sunk in; since she arrived she has been going on automatic. Her mother called earlier and explained the situation, she asked us not to mention his death and to leave her alone with her thoughts. Let her process it in peace." She finished signing out the novels. "Here it is, dearie. Stop mulling it over in your head, enjoy the reading and don't forget to bring them back afterwards."

Hadrian left the library, definitely ignoring the woman's advice. What was the man's name again..? Ah, Dr. Johann Fox. He was a lawyer, a very good one at that. Though they had met only once, he had a good impression of the man. Why would anyone kill him? Maybe because of work? He would have to ask Mrs. Fox that night.

After lunch, Hadrian went back home to pick his work equipment. Then, armed with his violin case and a small basket, he walked towards the same park of the previous day.

There, he sat on the grass, opened the case and picked his violin, not forgetting to set the basket in front of himself, uncovered. Inside, there was a small garden snake he had found almost dead about two weeks ago. He had saved her, and now the reptile sometimes came to work with him in exchange for shelter and food.

Not to mention she had been excited to meet a human that was able to talk to her.

Although it was way too cold for any snake not to be hibernating, she was perfectly conscious due to the wandless heating charms cast on her and the basket. If anyone noticed something wrong, which only happened once in a blue moon, he showed the thermal interior of the object and the warm rocks in which he cast the heating charms, saying he had warmed then up at home.

When he deemed his violin ready, Hadrian began to play. The tune was very similar to those made by the flutes of snake-charmers, and immediately attracted attention. Not too much time later, the snake's head, then her body, appeared and began to dance. The kind of music changed with each song, and the performer played styles that ranged from classical to hip-hop.

The hilarious thing is that the dancer seemed to be trying to reproduce the way of dancing those songs. But what the violinist felt like laughing at was the fact that the snake actually was doing so, she was imitating the dancers on the videos he had shown her a few days ago.

Pity he was the only one who could understand her hisses.

Anyway, they continued their show for some more hours, with the snake making many pauses to rest in her basket. Hadrian made only a few whenever his fingers began to ache. It was quite a few hours later that he saw a familiar mop of dark hair coming in his direction.

Deciding that it was enough, he finished the song he was playing and put away his instrument. Covering the basket, he walked towards the man.

Hadrian greeted him with a smile, then took his hand and began guiding him to his residence. "Come on, I need to leave those things at home, but then we can go to the coffee shop, okay?"

"Do I have a choice?" The man asked in a monotone voice and Hadrian laughed.

"Actually, you don't."

When they arrived at Phoenix's flat, L looked around. It was in an abandoned building. The magician took him upstairs, clinging at the detective's hand, a violin case and a basket while he ran up three floors worth of stairs.

The World's Three Greatest Detectives wondered how it was possible that the performer wasn't even panting, especially after the fast pace he used the whole way from the park to their current location.

The flat was quite big, and very different from the rest of the building. The walls were painted white and the furniture was all in shades of black, gray and white. The windows were huge, making the ambient well-illuminated and ventilated. As he watched, the white owl from the previous day flew inside and stopped at an iron perch strategically placed in the middle of the living room.

The magician's hand left his.

Phoenix put the instrument's case on the couch and reached inside the basket picking up the garden snake and, without even a glance at L, whose eyes were slightly widened in surprise, accommodated her on a modified aquarium. Then, he turned around just a second after the detective's face turned blank again.

"I would suggest that we solve the case in my flat since we're already here, but I need to speak with Mrs. Fox." The violinist's expression was apologetic.

L let his eyes roam, until they locked with the owl's golden gaze. "You could call her." He said, never breaking eye contact. "As long as there are sweets, the place doesn't matter." Anyone looking at the staring contest would have difficulty in judging who would be the winner, the man or the owl.

Phoenix snorted at the comic scene and the detective's answer. "You're lucky then, I stocked on sweets just yesterday. I'll call her right now, it's a good idea." He paused. "Thank you." He completed, picking up the phone and dialing the woman's number.

She attended on the third ring. "Café Renard?"

"Mrs. Fox? It's Hadrian. Could I ask you a few questions?" A pause. "Yes, I heard about what happened to your husband… Do you know who could have done this? ... You don't? No enemies, someone he sent to prison and was recently released…" Silence. "Okay, I promise you I'll look into this." By this point, the magician had paced from his kitchen to the living room and back twice. "Yes, I'll call you tomorrow. Don't worry." He hesitated for a second. "Okay, understood, bye." He ended the call.

Phoenix then stopped walking, and stared out of the windows, deep in thought.

L had thought that extracting his identity would be difficult, but here was the bird throwing his name around. Would it be because it was only the first name, because it was a false name or because he wasn't actually hiding his true name?

So many possibilities, the detective's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, such a mystery and he wasn't even trying.

"What happened?" The gray-eyed man's question brought Phoenix, now Hadrian, back to Earth.

"Well, one of my friends was acting strangely today, and I discovered it was because her father had been murdered. I had decided to investigate it on my own, rather than depending on the police. I don't really trust them." The performer said, determination almost shining in his emerald orbs.

"I brought with me the file I promised, but if you prefer, we could work on your case." He paused. "I know how it feels when it happens to someone you know." Somehow, a tiny sliver of sympathy slipped onto the detective's otherwise emotionless voice, surprising the other.

"Thank you." Hadrian said, recuperating from his shock and hugging the detective. A second later, he returned the hug.

Dr. Johann Fox was quite the lawyer. One of the best, and had worked hard for twenty-three years to guarantee the conviction of criminals and the freedom of innocents.

It was really a pity he was now dead.

He was one of the few people both detectives had ever made an in-depth research in who didn't really have any dirt that came up. Johann's mother was a German immigrant in England, and had had a son with a pilot who died not long after on a crash. They weren't even married.

As such, the woman had to raise him alone, and she did so with great success.

The reason Dr. Fox had been killed wasn't because of any shady business, not even a mere rival. He had been killed by a hit man contracted by a criminal organization he had been building a case against. The problem was that the culprits had dropped from the map as soon as the man was dead, and were probably on the other side of the globe by now, waiting for the news of the murder to cool down before coming back.

Which put both Hadrian and L in a dilemma: the first was no officer of the law, he couldn't go there and arrest them, and the other couldn't do so and risk revealing his true identity.

They could, however, send the evidence to the police anonymously, but neither trusted them very much to catch the criminals without too much bureaucracy and protocols interfering.

Not much later, they had called it a day, choosing to rest a bit before deciding what to do with their information.

L had left the building around 8pm and entered an inconspicuous car driven by his old mentor.

The following morning, Wammy handed him a new case. L opened the file and his eyes widened as he saw the name of his new… Acquaintance? Companion? Friend..? Whatever, Hadrian's name was printed on the paper.

And he would discover why.

Antonio Mervi had been a handsome man. He worked as a producer for an entertainment company and did his job very well. There wasn't much you could say against him, not a cent had ever been stolen and his behavior was exemplar.

He had a defect, though; Antonio was a man who enjoyed his liquor way too much. This, and high speeds.

Last year, he killed two children.

He didn't go to prison, but was prohibited from driving for many months.

He was dead now.

Mervi had been killed by the same thing that caused the children's death. In the middle of an important reunion of the company, it had taken a few seconds for someone to notice the quickly changing colors of his face. He began clawing at his throat; gasping for air, but soon gave in. it was as if he had choked on air.

The forensics team identified only three things that were wrong among the scene: in the cup of water the man had been drinking from, there was no water: it was vodka, an alcoholic beverage that looked exactly like water, and more, didn't smell either. Based on the man's historic, it wasn't difficult to guess who had swapped the water with the vodka.

The second thing was also in the cup, but wasn't very likely to have been put there by the late Antonio Mervi. It was potassium cyanide, easily acquired to kill wasps. It also worked effectively as poison, resulting on the described symptoms.

The last thing had, however, baffled the investigators. Inside the man's breast pocket, there was a single miniature soldier made of lead. And its presence made no sense.

After only few hours in the police's hands, the case was quickly forwarded to one of L's aliases, Deneuve. The reason was simple to explain. The toy seemed to be indicating the first of a series of murders. Or, at least, this seemed to be what the number 10 carved on the base pointed towards.

Normally, a case such as this would have a small chance of being taken by L under any of his aliases, especially because it was an isolated death, but one look at the list of witnesses and possible suspects, and he knew he had to take it.

There were thirteen people on the list, the same that were with Antonio Mervi at the time of his death. The objective of this meeting was to study the possibility of starting a TV program that would present the work of street performers for a public bigger than the usual. On the room were Antonio, another producer, a lawyer, and a group of performers they had selected to offer an opportunity to participate in the first episodes, if the program was ever filmed.

One of those was Phoenix.

After seeing the name, there was no doubt on L's mind that he would take the case.

But for now, he had to call the man and see if he was okay.

Hadrian hadn't attended the phone, and L knew something was very much wrong. He wasted no time in going to the other's flat.

When he arrived there, it didn't take too long for him to hear the hiccups coming from somewhere behind the front door. Knowing he wouldn't be granted entrance voluntarily, L picked the lock without even thinking about privacy.

Inside, he closed the door and his feet quickly carried him in the direction the sobbing was coming from. Scoping the young man in his arms, the detective comforted him as the performer wrapped his arms tightly around his waist and sobbed on his white shirt. They spent a long time in this position, the only sound being silent crying, until Phoenix's tears dried and he could finally speak.

Not even asking if L knew what had happened, Hadrian started talking. He talked about dark times; a childhood no child deserved, a killer out for his blood, a war brewing and so many deaths. He said no names, however, and asked his companion to not research his story, for there was no registry of it at all. He just needed to know it had happened, and believe it.

The detective knew by then that the magician had broken down after seeing the man's death, after having escaped the mess that was the beginning of his life and believing himself away from it all.

The thing was, Death existed everywhere.

After that, Hadrian's eyes began dropping and he burrowed his face on the other's shirt again, nuzzling his stomach and falling asleep.

L was aware there was no escaping anymore from the death grip. Sighing, he carded his hands through the raven black on his lap and resigned himself to a midday nap.

Two hours later, the violinist woke up to find a pair of dark eyes watching him very closely. Blushing at the proximity, he burrowed his face again on the man's stomach, which was shaking slightly in an effort to contain a laugh that threatened to escape. Feeling vindictive, and wanting to hear the laugh he realized he'd never heard, Phoenix sneaked his hands up the white shirt and began to tickle him.

Who knew his apparently emotionless friend would be ticklish.

After some time of wrestling, however, Hadrian was pinned on the bed by his wrists, while his hips were held down by the man sat on them. He was panting hard, face red with exertion and a bit of embarrassment for his position.

The phone rang just a second later.

Freeing the performer, L stood up and took the call. It was Wammy, asking where he was.

Looking at his… Friend, the detective extended a hand. After replying to his mentor he would be calling later and not to worry, he asked Hadrian as he ended the call:

"What do you know about Deneuve?"

Hours later, after having returned to his hotel room, L thought about the events of that morning. So much had happened; it would be overwhelming if he wasn't a genius.

First of all, his alias. He shouldn't have revealed one of his identities. Even if it wasn't the most important one, it was still dangerous, since Deneuve was considered one of the World's Three Greatest Detectives, along with two of his other aliases, Eraldo Coil and L.

What he found interesting, however, was his friend's reaction. Phoenix's eyes almost twinkled like a madman's and he opened a Cheshire cat smile. It was quite a disturbing image, really.

"I knew you were a detective. Wouldn't have helped me in my hobby if you weren't." He had hummed thoughtfully. "I just remembered, you haven't told me your name before today. Deneuve is probably an alias. What can I call you? I go by Hadrian Black, or Phoenix. I prefer not using my original name, brings back bad memories."

"Ryuuzaki." L had said. And that was it. They didn't discuss names anymore after that.

Something that morning had made the detective very worried, though. Judging by Phoenix's reaction and the story he had told him, his past was very dark. The death would have affected anyone, but this was the last straw for the man.

L had been able to help him somewhat, however. After the catnap he took Hadrian was more or less back to normal. And that was an opportunity he couldn't let pass. Since the magician was involved on the case, and knew of his work as a detective, he could ask the man to work with him on this murder, and have his little bird under his watch at all times.

… Which led him to an event that made L quite antsy, and he wasn't someone who was easily affected.

It seemed that, in a span of a bit less than two days, Hadrian had begun to get attached to him. And the insomniac wasn't faring much better.

Shaking his head in a futile attempt of taking that line of thought from his mind, L opened a file in his computer.

His aliases were more numerous than the number of people living in London, which meant only one thing: there was always work to be done, no matter how much his mind seemed to want to drown itself in thoughts about Phoenix.

As the detective began reading through the case he would be solving under the name Sasha Pavlov, he wondered if he could make the time pass faster, for Wammy would be bringing Hadrian in just a few hours so that they could work on Antonio Mervi's case.

That night and a good part of the following day were spent without much progress on their part. L wanted to continue working, but Hadrian interrupted him saying he had something to show the detective.

As the performer guided his friend once again by the hand to the kitchen, Wammy focused the camera on that room. There was no way he'd miss seeing L's reaction.

And what a reaction it was. His eyes widened and sparked like a child's in Christmas, and his chin had fallen in surprise and disbelief.

He was drooling too, not that L would admit it later.

In true Christmas spirit, since it was the 24th of December after all, Phoenix had sculpted a life-sized Christmas tree, making it two meters of pine-shaped white sugar with ginger bread and real candy decorations. The gifts under the tree were wrapped in regular paper, however, which almost made L pout.

Almost, for in that moment Hadrian kissed his cheek and muttered a "Merry Christmas."

The detective ducked his head down to hide a blush, making the magician laugh, and kiss him again.

A/N: Well, there it is. I did promise I'd update on Monday, didn't I?

Anyway, thank you guys for reading. I get this stupid smile on my face every time I see a new review.

From here on, I'll be making na effort to make the chapters longer, this one has around 3k words.

Besides that, there will be a murder (or attempt of) per chapter. Good luck trying to find the killer.

...

Another thing, did I write Deneuve right? I wasn't sure if it was written this way.