Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It would cost more in legal fees than you would actually get, considering I own nothing.
Authors Note: Hmmm... Not much to note on, thanks yet again to everyone who's enjoying my story, the response will never cease to amaze me. Sorry I didn't get this out sooner but hey, I lack creativity, at least I try... I think it's best to give you all fair warning for the future that in this story no one is safe. I could kill any character at any given moment for any given reason or no reason at all! Yup, I'm worse than Kira, people could start dropping like flies in this story, it really just depends on where my imagination takes me. So be forewarned! Oh and I might try to mislead you dear readers, in the story things are not always as they appear and sometimes they are exactly as they appear.
Well, on that ambiguous note I hope you enjoy the chapter. I'm not sure if my focus was good in this one but I'll let you all be the judge of that.
"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"
By Pink Bismuth
Chapter Three: Dreams, Apples, and Buses
Harry was running as fast as he could, panting desperately for breath as he tried to get away. In the distance there was a drowning call of "-ive…! Six…! Seven…! Eight…! Nine…! Ten!" Harry could have sworn his heart stopped than and there.
"Ready or not here we come!" They were gaining on him, he could hear their shouts.
"Get him!"
"Don't let 'em get away this time!"
"You can run but you can't hide forever Harry Potter!"
"Look he's heading for New Zealand!"
Harry looked down at that last call and sure enough beneath his feet the words 'New Zealand' were printed across the surface in large bold font. It was than that he took store of his surrounding, there were lines and symbols and names of places all over the ground. Dazed and confused he tried desperately to figure out why it looked so familiar while he looked for a place to hide. It was than that he realized it was a map beneath his feet.
'A map, I'm standing on a map! I need to find the key!' he thought desperately, eyes frantically searching the surface as he continued to run from whomever it was that was chasing him. As he made his way over Australia he looked back at them. It was Hermione! And the Weasleys, his boss Proudfoot and... A bunch of reporters? They were all wielding giant butterfly nets as they tore after him.
Turning away from the sight he saw a giant letter 'K' written in an Old English type font, thinking it must be the key he ran to it. But when he got there all he saw was the rectangular eye shape of the Deathly Hallows mark with a shiny red apple sitting atop it.
Harry reached for the apple and on instinct took a bite out of it; it was sour, turning green and rotten in his hands. He dropped it watching as it melted into the ground and turned the map crimson. The lines previously forming country boarders shifted to form lines like that in a notebook. Quickly looking back at the people chasing him, he saw them transform into giant pens which then started writing something down.
He watched a nearby pen riveted as it spelled out what Harry instinctively knew was a name; but as soon as he focused on it, the letters blurred out of existence. Than suddenly a net snapped down on him encasing him in darkness.
Harry Potter awoke panicked, kicking and clawing at the blankets that had twisted around him in his sleep, trying desperately to escape the net.
After a few moments of struggling he finally calmed down enough to properly wake up. Bolting into a sitting position he looked blearily at the alarm clock next to his bed, it was 4:00 AM. He groaned as he fell back tiredly onto his bed running a hand over his face and through his hair.
"Lovely way to wake up," Harry muttered to himself still rather shaken and out of breath from that vivid dream. Why was he always having such weird dreams? He supposed it was better than having some of the more graphic nightmares he'd had in the past. At least this didn't have any green light, dead loved ones, or old Tommy boy haunting him.
'Do I even want to know what it meant?' he asked himself ruefully.
Harry had come into the habit of analyzing his more memorable dreams in the hope of finding clarity. It was Luna's idea, while visiting her one day he mentioned one of his odd dreams and she recommended keeping a dream diary.
Originally Harry had scoffed at the idea, having horrid flash backs to the dream oracles of Trelawny's Divination classes, but then Luna surprised him with her reasoning on the matter. She explained how analyzing his dreams could give him insight into his subconscious. Of course she also said that every magical being had innate divinatory senses. She thought that everyone had an inner eye but most could only use it in their sleep, when their other eyes were closed.
He wasn't completely sure about all that but he thought it was worth a try. In the end he really did find it quite useful or at the very least interesting. He was, apparently, a lot more perceptive in his sleep; it had certainly helped in solving a few mysteries in his life. Beyond that it also helped him with the nightmares that had once regularly plagued him at night after the war. It was comforting somehow, to write it all out on paper, dissect them into different parts and get a better hold on why he was having them.
Harry took a deep breath as he prepared himself to get up.
'I'm going to get up now,' he thought, 'Any minute now... Gunna do it... Seriously...' 'Right…'
"Now," he breathed out as he forced himself up and out of bed. He stumbled over to his trunk, flipping the light switch on as he passed it. He flinched at the bright light that momentarily blinded his sleep weakened eyes.
After mechanically undoing the various security measures on his trunk he opened it and dug around for his journal. He out right refused to call it a diary. It was a journal, which was way less girly sounding and a lot less like Riddle's Horcrux.
Yawning tiredly he settled down on the sofa in the sitting area of his room flipping it to an open page. Realizing he'd forgotten to grab a pen but not his wand he used it to summon one, hardly sparing it a thought. The lights flickered briefly at the slight use of magic as a pen came zooming from the other room heading straight at his head. He quickly grabbed a throw pillow and used it as a shield; the pen impacted with a thump, and fell into his lap.
"Oops, overpowered that a bit." he muttered tiredly to himself. 'It's way too early in the morning for this,' he thought shaking his head, not in the least bit disturbed about near impalement with a writing utensil, after all it didn't stab the pillow right?
'Alright... date?'
December, 20th 2003, he wrote.
He yawned again rubbing at his eyes. Merlin he was tired, but he knew one had to write what they can remember of their dream before they forgot too many details.
After he recounted it on paper he thought about what it could possibly mean. It felt like there was something important about this one. There was that same nagging feeling he had about the Kira case. Maybe he'd missed something about the case that his brain was trying to share? But than if that was true maybe he should stop trying to figure it out, he was after all trying to ignore the whole thing.
'Hmmmm...,' he considered it, for all of two seconds before going back to his pondering.
'Hide-and-Seek's pretty obvious, Map too, I'm pretty much playing a game of hide and seek with the press, figure the others are the reasons I'd go back.'
He absently started to tap his pen against the paper in an even rhythm as he rested his elbow on his hunched up knees, letting his chin drop onto his free hand.
'What was with the K? Was it really for the Key or...' his thoughts trailed off, he felt stupid for some reason and he couldn't figure out why. Maybe he should wait and think about this when he was more awake? Some coffee sounded really good about now.
'No focus! What starts with K?' he questioned. 'Think fast! Things that could start with K, Kittens, Kippers, Keeper, Oliver'
"ARG!" he shouted aloud in frustration.
'Okay no more word association games,' he assured himself.
And than it hit him and he hit himself in the head for not figuring it out sooner.
"Kira!" he shouted shocked, he'd never realized he was this slow without his morning coffee.
'Okay, so even in my dreams I'm trying to find Kira,' he thought frustrated. Wasn't that just his luck? Even his own mind was conspiring against him.
'Makes sense, but why the Hallows mark?'
Was it just that he associated both Kira and the Hallows with death? The situation itself couldn't possibly have anything to do with the Hallows he was sure.
He tried to think of any sort of way they could be particularly interrelated but came up short. Harry didn't really have all that much information about the Hallows besides what he'd read in The Tales of Beedle the Bard and his own personal experience with them; none of what he knew seemed relevant to the Kira case. Than again he didn't know much about Kira either.
Harry just shrugged, 'Probably just coincidence,' he concluded.
Now the apple was what really stumped him.
'What do apples have to do with anything? And why'd it turn all nasty like that?' he shivered a bit as he remembered it; there was something... ominous about it. He tried to think of what apples could possibly do with anything. Unless Kira was somehow poising apples to kill his victims, Harry couldn't see the connection. He somehow doubted that was the case or that his subconscious would have formed this theory.
'Be an awfully melodramatic way to do it,' he thought and then snorted, 'Course homicidal maniacs usually are pretty into theatrics.'
He would know after having dealt with one for half his life and putting up with wannabee Riddles for the other half. Idiots who thought the key to becoming a successful dark lord was to 'defeat' him.
It didn't happen as often now as it used to directly after the war, but it was still quite annoying. Some of them were rather pathetic, like the one who thought to turn the famed 'power of love' against him by channeling said power through hugs; thus trying to hug him to death.
Harry shivered at the remembrance of it, that guy was creepy. 'What kind of a dark lord hugs people to death?' he asked himself for the umpteenth time before forcefully pushing these thoughts away.
He stared down at the paper of his journal as he thought, it was a muggle journal and had lines like that of a notebook. He preferred muggle notebooks and pens to quills and parchment, it was just so much more convent. Harry thought he knew what the notebook lines, pens, and names must have meant.
'Must be Kira's victims, how I write the criminals names down to keep track,' he nodded that made sense; he did it nearly every day. When Harry watched the news he would write down the criminals' names as they were reported. Then he watched again later and checked off Kira's victims, they were always the ones whose name and photograph were both shown. It had helped him figure out that Kira needed a name and a face to kill.
Harry also just happened to notice that the ones killed were always reported to have died between the hours of about 4:00 pm - 3:00 am on weekdays. After noticing that he also came to realize that said victims were reported between those same hours. This meant that Kira inflicted heart attacks on people almost instantly after they were reported. Except on weekends when it was scattered through out the day.
Of course that lead him to believe that Kira might be a student or a teacher as it worked around school hours. However he'd had to rethink this idea recently in light of current events. A bunch of criminals were reported to have died of heart attacks exactly one hour apart, disrupting the previous pattern and taking place during school hours.
However this seemed odd to Harry, after all if Kira killed his victims instantly after they were reported it implied that he couldn't control their times of death. Meaning Kira would have had to have spent his time waiting exactly one hour between each kill before doing whatever it was he did to kill them, for a total of 46 victims.
Harry assumed that, whatever the method Kira used to kill, it was not labor intensive and could be instantaneous. But even so it would have been extremely inconvenient maybe even impossible for Kira to do whatever he did for 46 hours straight, meticulously waiting every hour to kill. It made more sense to assume Kira had control over exactly when the victims died and did it all ahead of time.
Harry also thought the sudden variation in Kira's original schedule was suspicious. Why would Kira just suddenly up and change his normal work hours and in such an inconvenient way? Was Kira showing off? Or did he realize how obvious his pattern was, if so that would confirm that he was indeed a student or a teacher and trying to hide it. Either way Harry was leaning towards the control over time theory, which meant that Kira was still most likely a student or a teacher.
Harry wasn't entirely sure why he kept track of all of Kira's victims; it had just become a daily routine for him. Granted it was a rather morbid one; one that was not at all helping with his 'just stay out of it' policy. But really was it doing any harm? No, just because he gained some slight insight into the case didn't mean he had anything to do with it. These were all basic conclusions anyone would have come to, in fact he bet it was common knowledge by now. It did not in anyway mean he was involved at all. Because he wasn't investigating Kira, he wasn't putting any more thought into this than anyone else was, not at all.
'In the dream I couldn't read the names though,' Harry thought. Did that mean he was worried about future victims? Was it his focus for wanting to find out who Kira is? And what was with getting caught in the net? Who caught him, the people chasing him or Kira?
He sat there deeply thinking about his dream before finally shaking his head as if to shake away the thoughts and go about starting his day.
He passed by his rumpled bed on the way to the bathroom giving it a longing look, knowing he wouldn't be getting any more sleep today.
Flipping on the lights of his bathroom, he looked in the mirror as he ran a hand through his hair. It was a tangled mess but what was new? He observed the bags under his un-bespectacled eyes with distinct annoyance as though it were the cause of his lack of sleep rather than the result.
Harry no longer wore glasses, having gotten corrective eye surgery in the muggle world. Apparently eye care just wasn't a large concern to Wizards, no they were too busy inventing spells that make you grow antlers and potions that make you swell up like a balloon. How anyone would ever find those things more useful than good eyesight he'd never know.
Regardless it became apparent that he needed better eyesight after a particularly grueling duel with a rogue Death Eater in which his glasses were summoned off of him. After nearly getting himself killed and adding another scar to his ever growing collection; he was determined to not take any more chances at being blinded during a fight.
Harry continued his self-inspection as he went about his morning routine, being sure to reapply his translating charm. He'd forgotten to the other day and had, had a hell of a time trying to get away from Naomi to apply it without her figuring out that he had no idea what she was saying without it.
Thinking about breakfast and that wonderful substance that is coffee he rushed to get ready. There was a very nice coffee shop he often frequented and he wanted to get there before all the good tables were gone. He did however cringe at the though of what Mrs. Weasley would do if she found out his breakfast usually only consisted of coffee and sugary pastry these days.
On his way out he met Naomi in the lobby, waiting for him to join her. It had become an arrangement that they go to the coffee shop together each morning.
It had been three weeks since they first met at that bar and they had become good friends since. Something just clicked right between them, a similarity perhaps that made it so easy for them to get along. Harry was also fond of her fiancé Ray; after it was established that Harry had no inclination to steal Naomi away, Ray seemed to return the sentiment.
It had been a very long time since he had met someone he could get along with so well. It was after all, very rare for Harry to have friends he hadn't known since he was eleven. He had made many acquaintances over the years, colleagues he'd work with, and even a few failed significant others, but never had he gotten close to actually making a new true friend. It was quite a different and more challenging thing, to make new friends as an adult.
When you're young it's simple, you're oblivious to the natural pull of friendship. You don't think about making friends, you just do. Take his friendship with Ron for example; they had merely sat in the same compartment on the train together. All it took was some shared sweets and stories of family to become best mates. As an adult you think too much and you are too set in your ways to make new life long friendships.
Harry in particular was always rather closed when dealing with people, less exposed. But the night he met Naomi he had been bursting to talk to someone, to have a friend and although he shared much more than he intended to Harry was really glad he did. Harry blushed even now thinking about how he'd spilled out the story of his love life (in embarrassing detail) to a complete stranger.
He thought Naomi must have felt the same way because there had been some awkwardness between them during that first lunch they had afterward. Happily though that awkwardness diminished as they both just readily ignored how much they'd told each other.
There was, however, another kind of awkwardness to this new friendship; one that was entirely his fault and entirely unavoidable. Naomi was the first muggle friend he'd ever made and as such he came to realize how hard it must be for muggleborns to keep the Wizarding world a secret. It was difficult having to edit his everyday conversation; to remember that muggles have no idea why you'd have to Owl someone or why you missed your broom so much. He had to hold back a lot of details of his life and lie or reword things so that he didn't break the statute of secrecy.
Naomi, Merlin help him, was very perceptive and seemed to sense when he did so. Every conversation became a game of intrigue that, while admittedly entertaining, was also dangerous. There were just some things he was not allowed to tell her, luckily she seemed to sense this as well and didn't pry too much.
But as complicated as his life was at the moment, it was also very freeing to be able to just pretend he was someone else. He loved to be able to play the part of Harry Evans, the guy in room 203. She saw him as her new friend who enjoys treacle tart way too much, offers people chocolate at random intervals (his own version of the lemon drop, a tribute to Dumbledore), is technologically challenged and gets a kick out of teasing her fiancé. She only knew him as 'just Harry' and it made their friendship mean so much more to him because of it.
It was due to this reason that he decided that when the time came for them to go their separate ways he would keep a correspondence with her. It was inevitable Harry knew they would eventually have to go back to their respective homes. For Naomi and Ray this meant going back to America, to get married, and have tons of kids and live happily ever after in Suburbia.
Naomi had her future planed out right down to the white picket fence that would adorn her dream home. She knew she wanted to have at least three kids and be a proper stay at home mother and a mystery novelist on the side. Her reasoning being that if she couldn't live an adventurous life while raising a family she could at least live vicariously through her novels. After hearing some of her book pitches Harry was certain she'd do very well with them. He especially liked the one about the super sleuth and his rogue protégé turned serial murderer, though he found some of the names ridiculous, after all what kind of a name was Backyard Bottomslash or Believe Bridesmaid? She was so certain in her choices, so sure of her future; Harry was very envious of that.
They made their way to the cafe with a minimum of conversation. Harry was far too wrapped up in his own thoughts to really contribute more than a brief nod or an off hand comment. Naomi valiantly tried to carry the conversation but she soon seemed to become concerned by his distractedness.
His thoughts were on his future which had become riddled with indecision as of late. Never had he been so uncertain about his path in life. That dream made him feel panicked. It reminded him that he was in fact hiding and dredged up a lot of questions he'd been ignoring. How long would he stay in Japan? Where would he go afterward? New Zealand? Norway? Timbuktu? Brittan? He'd have to go back there eventually... right? He already planned to go back for the holidays under the agreement that his family not badger him about staying afterward.
'A vacation from a vacation, when did my life get so complicated?' he asked himself.
He'd have to go back there eventually... right? He could run but he couldn't hide forever, could he? No, probably not. How long would this Hiatus last? How long did he want it to? How long would he have before the life he so spontaneously left behind came to drag him back permanently? He thought that maybe if he figured out just what he wanted in the grand scheme of things he might be able to figure out where he could go to find it.
Sadly he didn't know what that was either. There seemed to be a lot of things he didn't know these days. At one time he'd thought it was love, a family, and a peaceful life. But after having attempted to obtain those things and having it bite him in the arse he was rethinking that stance.
Well he wasn't being entirely fair, he had family. Really it was just the other two he couldn't seem to get right. Oliver had been a disaster, but well he wasn't the only failed relationship Harry had, had. He'd dated after he and Ginny split up, after the war, but each time it was unsuccessful to down right catastrophic. He knew it was stupid to give up on love and he wasn't, but well, he didn't think he'd be seeking it out anytime soon.
As for the peaceful life, he was Harry Potter; could such a thing really exist for him? Even if it could, would he really want it? It was one of the more confusing things Harry struggled with. It was that ever present contradiction. He wanted a peaceful life but at the same time what was life without a little adventure? He claimed he wanted peaceful but than he complained about the mundane. Peaceful was boring, Adventure was dangerous. What did he want his life to be like? What did he want to do with it? Where did he want to live it...? Who did he want to live it with?
Like Naomi he'd had plans he was sure of, he was going to marry Oliver at the Puddlemere Quidditch Stadium of all places (completely Oliver's idea). They were going to honeymoon in Rome (again Oliver's idea). Harry himself had wanted to come here to Japan, which admittedly had fueled his decision to come here just to spite him. Harry was going to work his way up to Head Auror and work hard to make the Wizarding world a better place. Oliver had been determined to make a name for himself in Quidditch history. And once they'd reached their goals they were going to retire young and live in a house just like the Burrow and maybe even adopt some kids. But his plans had been derailed by Zacharias effing* Smith and Oliver's inability to keep it in his pants.
'Bastards the both of them,' Harry thought spitefully.
"Harry-kun! Hello? Are you even awake? Is this some form of sleep walking? Harry-kun?" she asked waving her hand in front of his face to catch his attention.
Harry blinked not realizing he'd been so spaced out. Feeling guilty for being such bad company, he sighed and offered her a sheepish grin. "Sorry Naomi-san, I'm just really tired I've been up since four and I didn't sleep very well before that."
She eyed him speculatively for a moment before seeming to let it go and give him a bright smile. "Oh, you do look tired, nothing coffee can't cure though," she said energetically as they entered the coffee shop.
Harry gave her a disapproving look. He hated how chipper she was; didn't she know it was illegal to have that much energy in the morning? This sentiment was driven from his mind though as the scent of coffee and pastry hit him full force.
'And now I'm awake,' he thought as he smiled and felt his mouth water at the aroma.
After getting in the queue and getting their orders they sat at their favorite table in the corner next to the windows. This had become a routine of theirs after having run into each other here several times after meeting. Ray had to get to work pretty early in the morning so Naomi was more than happy to join Harry on his daily excursions to the coffee shop.
They hadn't really told him exactly what it was that Ray did for work. They both seemed to avoid mentioning it so Harry didn't ask. Curious as he was, it didn't seem fair that he poke questions at them when they allowed him to be so vague about his own life.
Harry had his suspicions though; there were various details that hinted at Ray being a part of law enforcement. Their sudden need to come to Japan despite the Kira situation was a bit suspicious. Naomi said she had retired from the FBI because she was getting married soon, so why were they staying in Japan for so long? She said she was here visiting her parents but she didn't really spend much time visiting them. She spent more of her time with him actually, not that he was complaining.
Harry just found it rather suspect that they just happened to come here a few weeks after that broadcast by that muggle detective. The very one that said Kira was in the Kanto region of Japan, in which Tokyo (their current location) just happens to be. Especially when one considers Naomi's parents, by her own admission, live in Kyoto not Tokyo. And they both seemed inordinately interested in the Kira case and yet they tried very hard to hide it.
There were also several things Harry had noticed about Ray. Even though they lived in America, he went to work nearly everyday for long hours here in Japan. Supposedly he was a businessman but he didn't carry a brief case. He always wore a rather plain suite and a gray trench coat. Harry found trench coats suspicious and Ray's look as a whole just seemed too bland, like he was trying to blend into the crowd. And Ray noticed things, like Naomi, he seemed to notice when Harry was trying to skim over details. The few conversations he'd had with Ray sometimes felt like interrogations.
All and all Harry had him pegged as some sort of law enforcement, most likely FBI like Naomi used to be. It would even explain why they had been arguing before. If Ray was working on the Kira case Naomi would want to help, Ray seemed very protective of her and so wouldn't want her to get involved. It would also explain why they kept it a secret.
Regardless Harry decided it wasn't his business, and tried not to do anymore thinking on it. Really he didn't, just like he didn't think about Kira.
"You seem distracted Harry-kun," Naomi commented as she took a drink of her coffee.
After gulping down half his coffee and practically inhaling his cinnamon roll he responded, "I guess I'm a bit out of it, had a weird dream last night, didn't get much sleep, it's kinda bugging me."
"Oh? Care to share; it might make you feel better."
Harry debated about whether he should or not. It involved Kira and some of his magical life but not overtly so. It was doubtful she'd make the connection or that it would reveal anything about magic. Maybe he could skim over some of the details? It might help to get his mind off it.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to Harry-kun," Naomi reassured him after the silence stretched on for too long, shaking her head for emphasis.
Harry let out a sigh but quickly answered, "No, no, I just..." his voice trailed off as he looked at the fluffy Danish pastry Naomi had just torn in half. He suddenly paled and felt uneasy as he looked at the gooey filling inside the pastry.
"Is- er what flavor is that?" he asked quickly pointing at her pastry, giving it a weary look.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she looked at her Danish and then Harry. Tilted her head sideways, giving him an odd look she answered, "Apple, why... you want some?"
Harry's eyes widened and he dazedly shook his head no.
Naomi gave him another weird look, but didn't question him as she went to take a bite of her breakfast. His eyes widened further and Harry unthinkingly smacked it out of her hand before she could eat it.
She gave a disgruntled noise as it fell to the floor and than sat there staring at Harry speechless and confused. Harry himself was surprised by his actions and quite embarrassed.
"Um... sorry about that...," he apologized his face heating up, quite at a loss for what to say.
"I'm not allergic to apples," Naomi said in a monotone voice.
"I... er, didn't think-" he started confusedly.
"I'm not on any kind of diet," Naomi continued, ignoring him.
"You wouldn't need to be," Harry interjected only to be cut off again.
"Did you suspect it was poisoned?"
"Of course not!"
"Did my Apple Danish somehow insult you Harry-kun?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes at him. There was a distinctly dangerous edge to her voice.
"N-no, I just- er, well you see, the thing is-," Harry tried to explain his irrational behavior but his words were coming up short and Naomi's sudden glare of death was not helping. 'Apparently she really like's her Apple Danish...' he thought nervously.
"You still have the other half," he pointed out desperately, hoping that would lighten the death glare. She looked down at the other half of the pastry on her plate and indeed her glare disappeared and confusion took its' place.
She sighed as shook her head, propping her right elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand.
"So... care to explain that, or are we just writing that off as oddity number twelve?" she questioned tiredly.
It would seem that Harry's irrational behavior had greatly diminished her energy from earlier. A small part of Harry, the part that is not a morning person, felt vindictively happy about this.
Addressing the question at hand Harry considered how he should answer.
They had an ever growing list of oddities between them. Things like when Harry would use the word 'Merlin' as an expletive and her great and unnatural aversion to strawberry jam. Categorized within that list were also those things that they couldn't explain due to their own secrets.
For Harry it was things he couldn't explain about his life, things connected to the magical world. For Naomi it was things like what Ray does for work, which Harry suspected was due to its' connection to Kira.
They both knew the other had secrets they couldn't share and in deference to their new friendship they respected that and wrote them off as oddities. It was a mark of their new friendship that she would be willing to overlook this whole thing as a strange quirk.
Still Harry felt he should probably explain himself nonetheless, especially considering there was no real reason not to.
"I'm sorry Naomi-san, that was just me being irrational, it's actually got to do with that dream I mentioned earlier, still willing to hear about it?" he questioned with a sheepish smile.
Now looking very curious Naomi lifted her head from her hand and nodded for him to continue.
"Okay," he started, "It started out with me running, playing hide and seek, sort of, only I was on top of a giant map-"
"A map of what?" Naomi questioned, eye brow raised in intrigue.
"A giant world map," Harry continued, "my family and my old boss were all chasing after me with giant butterfly nets-"
"You have very strange dreams Harry-kun," Naomi cut in looking amused at the mention of the nets and indeed his entire story thus far.
"I am aware of that, are you going to keep commenting or let me tell my story?" he asked, part annoyed and part amused.
"Probably, depends on how weird your dream gets. Do you turn into a giant butterfly, because I'll have to comment on that." she responded playfully.
Harry gave a huff of indignation at her playfulness; this dream had really freaked him out. Still he couldn't help but smile as he continued, "No, thankfully that didn't happen in this dream"
"This dream? So you've had other dreams about turning into a giant butterfly?"
"Wha- No! Why would you...," he trailed off. He than shook his head, giving her an exasperated look as he continued, "No I don't even want to know, will you please just let me continue my story?"
She nodded, with an expression of mock seriousness.
Harry rolled his eyes as he continued, "Okay so...yeah, I'm being chased and I realized, that since I'm on a map I need to find the key, so I finally find- er, a giant letter K and ran to it and there was this, er, symbol."
"Symbol? What kind of symbol?"
"It's, well..." he paused as he considered how to explain it, technically speaking this was crossing into magical territory. How much should he tell her? How much could he tell her? He decided it would be easier to just go with a short answer.
"It's a symbol I highly associate with death."
"Oh...," she seemed to sense he didn't want to elaborate and so didn't ask more.
Harry smiled thankfully at that as he went on, "Yeah and right on top of it was a shinny red apple!"
"So, you assaulted my Apple Danish, because you had a dream about an apple, on top of a death symbol?" she asked, taking a bite out of the other half of said Danish.
Harry flinched as she did so, still a bit bothered by it for reasons he couldn't explain. He than continued, "Um, yes... but there was more too it, see I picked up the apple and took a bite-"
"Why'd you do that? I mean, it was on top of the death symbol right?"
"I don't know! It was a dream, It's not like I've got control of these things," Harry snapped before taking a deep breath and continuing, "anyway, I took a bite and it tasted really sour and turned all green and rotten-"
"Eww," Naomi interjected, looking disgusted, dropping the other half of the Danish she was eating.
"Yeah, so I dropped it and the ground turned all blood red and the country boarders turned into note book lines, and the people formed into giant pens and started writing stuff, but I couldn't read it and then one of those nets dropped on me and I woke up," Harry rushed to conclude in practically in one breath, hopping to prevent anymore interruptions. When he finished he lifted his hands and put them behind his head as he leaned back in his chair.
"I repeat, you have strange dreams Harry-kun."
"Don't I know it," he muttered back grabbing his cup and sipping the last of his coffee. Somehow he felt even more exhausted than he had before.
Naomi looked forlornly at what was left of her pastry, apparently it had lost its' appeal during the whole retelling. "Well Harry-kun, I guess I can't blame you for acting irrationally, if you're having weird death apple dreams."
Her eyes than lit up in amusement as she brought her right hand to her head and her left to her heart and pretended to swoon, "Oh Harry-kun thank you for saving me from the evil apple of doom!"
Harry huffed in mock indignation, "See if I ever save you from evil fruit again! When the bananas go rogue and you're ganged up in the produce aisle by man eating tomatoes you'll rue this day Naomi-san!"
"Tomatoes aren't fruit," she argued back, as though that was the most bizarre thing he'd said in that sentence.
"Are too."
"They're a vegetable Harry-kun," she said in a voice one uses for very small children and the mentally incompetent.
"No, no Naomi-chan, they are a ve-ge-ta-ble," he returned her tone in full and sounded out for her while putting emphasis on the 'chan'.
Naomi glowered at him; she hated the honorific 'chan' with an unholy passion as Harry well knew. She still hadn't disclosed the whole story behind it, all she ever mentioned were brief mutterings of "Stupid sexist bastard agents" and "Cute, I'll show them cute, shove my cute foot up their a-". Every time he tried to get whatever hilarious back story there surely was for this unnatural loathing, she refused to tell and all Ray could manage between laughs was something to do with Teddy Bears, disguises, dares, and fireworks.
"Just for that I'm going to buy a whole new Apple Danish and make you watch me eat it," she threatened, "in fact you'll eat some too." I'll cram it down your throat, was the unvoiced but clear message.
Harry quickly jumped up from the table and looked at his watch, "Oh would you look at that! I've got to go, Christmas shopping and all that, loads to buy you know, I've got to bribe the family good this year, if I want to come back here alive afterwards!"
She watched him amused as he scrambled to the door, waving good buy, "Don't forget to meet Ray and me for a farewell lunch tomorrow," she shouted after him as he exited.
"Don't worry, I won't forget, see you than Naomi-...CHAN!" he shouted childishly as he escaped out the exit, leaving behind an irritated Naomi, who than spitefully bought yet another Apple Danish.
...
Harry laughed as he made his way to the bus stop. He could have sworn Naomi was a redhead for the temper she had. Even after stifling his laughter, he could feel the huge grin on his face. It was so bizarre; Naomi really seemed to bring out his childish side. They had become friends so fast, over only the course of a few weeks and they were already teasing each other like siblings.
Sometimes it worried Harry, his suspicious, paranoid side that had been tricked, or lost someone one too many times, would question his new fast friendship. The boy who was tricked by false promises of friendship by one of Dudely's gang in childhood, or the man who'd dated one too many attention seekers and gold diggers, or the lonely person who'd lost too many people he was close too were all still a part of Harry and were voicing their worries. But for now the only thing he was thinking was how great Naomi was at cheering him up.
Did it really matter where he was going with his life when at the moment he was having so much fun not getting there? And who cares if he had a bad dream, sometimes dreams were just dreams, there was no such thing as an 'inner eye' and he really wasn't one to look for or heed bad omens anyway.
Just as he arrived at the bus stop bench a bus went speeding by at a speed Harry was rather sure was illegal. 'Was that my bus-" he started to wonder as it zoomed passed him. However his thought was interrupted as he froze in place as an odd feeling overcame him. Time seemed to slow down as the bus passed him for a dizzying second. He suddenly felt heavier, and a strange pulse seemed too emanate in him. A brief piercing pain coursed through his chest, as his heart started racing. He felt nauseous and broke out in a sweat, an instinct struck him and he turned to look at the back of the passing bus as it suddenly turned to the left. When it disappeared around the corner everything returned to normal.
Harry felt shaken; "W-what was that all about" he muttered, bringing his hand up to rub the left side of his chest, feeling his heart still beating rapidly. Confused he just took a few deep breaths as another bus pulled up to the curb, it was his bus.
Shaking his head to clear it, he took one last look in the direction the bus went in before hurrying onto his own and finding a seat. He could have sworn he saw something on that bus, a blur, something black. 'It kind of looked like... wings? But that's ridiculous, it went by really fast' Harry thought to himself, thinking he'd probably just imagined it. He was still concerned about why he felt so oddly before but decided to write it off as a cold and resolved to buy some medicine while he was out Christmas shopping. Still with a feeling that he'd missed something he forcefully pushed the whole incident from his mind and went back to contemplating his breakfast with Naomi instead, it was certainly a more cheerful topic.
He loved being semi-normal, to be able go to a coffee shop with a friend and go on random tangents about killer fruit. If this had been in the Wizarding world, someone would have been spying on him and then spreading gossip about how either, Harry Potter was a lunatic that feared a fruit uprising or there would be an actual report taking it seriously and declaring fruit as lethal. If he told his other friends about his ominous dreams they'd either get all nervous, swear off apples for life, and research all the ways in which pens and butterfly nets could be used as deadly weapons or send him to a psychiatrist (Hermione was always trying to send him to a psychiatrist).
But not Naomi, she just heard him out and made him feel better and not a news reporter was in sight!
'I bet I'm just being stupid right now, being all nervous, it's probably just the flu, it is the flu season,' Harry thought as he contemplated Naomi's reaction if he told her about this incident. He laughed at the thought, "She'd probably accuse me of being afraid of fruit and buses, don't know why I'm being so superstitious lately," Harry muttered to himself.
...
Elsewhere, in Naomi's hotel room she was watching the news as an anchor talked about how a bus to Space Land, an amusement park, had just been reported hijacked. She suddenly sneezed and wondered if she was coming down with something or if someone was talking about her. Shrugging she went to the kitchenette of her hotel room and surveyed the fruit sitting in the now much depleted fruit basket her parents had sent over as a 'welcome home' gift, laying on the counter.
"Huh, I thought Ray took the last apple for breakfast on his way to work," she said looking confused as she saw the fruit sitting in the basket; there was an apple and two oranges.
She instantly reached out to grab the other apple, after all it was her favorite fruit, but her hand paused before grabbing it thinking back to Harry-kun's weird dream and a foreboding feeling coming over her. After a few seconds of indecision she smiled wryly, shaking her head at her own antics.
'This is silly,' she told herself before grabbing the apple and as though to prove her point she took a large bite out of it. As she made her way back to the couch in the sitting area to watch some more TV, she thought to herself, 'See still alive, Harry-kun's going to make me as irrational as he is.'
Naomi didn't know Harry, and by extension his loved ones had such a penchant for bad luck, or that sometimes his dreams in the past had some accuracy or meaning. She didn't know how good Harry's instincts could be or that Ray was on that hijacked bus. Perhaps if she did she'd have advised Harry differently, taken what he'd said more seriously. Maybe she would have taken the same stance as his other friends. Perhaps she would have chosen the orange instead.
Note: Still no L but he'll have a chapter all his own soon and I should think at about chapter 6 or 7 Harry will in fact talk to L (on the phone) and L may or may not than start his own little creepy stalker like investigation of Harry. Heck they might even get to meet in person depending on how my creativity or lack thereof feels when writing it. I have almost everything all mapped out, but I change my mind at a moments notice and at the moment it's a toss up for when they'll meet in person. I have plans, Oh the mighty plans I have...*imagine diabolical laughter here* But until then you'll just have to be patient.
*I put effing instead of the F word because I wasn't sure if the F word was allowed with a T rating, I used to think you could swear fairly safely with a T rating but lately I've seen fics with M ratings for swearing and it was for less offensive words than F*** so I didn't want to push it.
Well there you go, I'm not entirely happy with this chapter somehow, though I think it has more to do with reading other fan fiction that far out shines my own that have now given me an inferiority complex rather than any particular fault in the story. Still I'd love to have your opinion so be sure to review!