Death and Beyond
Foreword: This is going to be a little different than the usual. Thanks to my brain and the wonderful possibilities offered up by Animelover5008's prompt, I will be writing TWO versions of the outcome of said prompt (mentioned below). The SECOND one, hopefully, will be more in line with the request. As for THIS one, well. This is just my brain grabbing onto the idea and running with it.
BASED on a Prompt by Animelover5008: "It would be cool if Harry came to the orphanage and met L."
Premise: "...and so, B was Born."
Warning: For those of you who know who Beyond Birthday is, no warning needed. For those of you who don't, well...let's just call him the Moriarty to L's Sherlock, shall we? Also...this one is a fair bit longer than the others. Also, UNBETA'd
.. .. ..
Lily bit back a scream, clutching Harry closer to her chest as she hurried down the hall toward her son's nursery. She could hear the sound of screams, of spells scarring the walls of her home, of her husband struggling, but she had to ignore it. She had to. Turning back now meant putting her child in the line of fire, and that was something she was not willing to do. Not even for her husband's sake.
She choked, feeling the urge to be sick fighting with her need to get them to safety. Ignore it. Ignore it. You'll be fine, just ignore it...for now. Her stomach clenched, hot, tight, and roiling with acid. She wanted to say she felt sick over the loss of her husband...
...well, she did, but that wasn't what was really the matter. The matter was what was tucked into a hidden wall panel in her son's nursery. The matter was what she'd stolen, without remorse, the day she left the Unspeakables, the day she learned her son could be in danger.
The Head of her department, Augustus Rookwood, had called it the Death Ledger. Lily had rolled her eyes at him for that. Only he could take a look at the innocuous little notebook, clearly stamped with the words "Death Note," and turn it into something pretentious. That wasn't the point, though. The point was that she'd taken it, hiding it from everyone—from Sirius, from Remus, from James—on the off-chance she'd need it.
Lily had hoped she wouldn't need it...hoped that one of her friends wasn't the traitor...but she was a realist. War was ugly. It was brutal, and bloody, and base. It took your love, your hope, your dreams of the future, and twisted them until they were but shadows of their former selves.
Tears dripped down her tears, and she winced at the sounds of pain, of suffering, coming from James, even as she carefully set Harry down in his crib. "Mama loves you, baby."
She pressed a tear-slicked kiss to her son's forehead, running one shaking hand through his hair, before dashing to the trick wall panel. A quick press, and the dust-covered book was finally in her hands. Her hands shook as she carefully cut into her palm with her wand, her trembling fingers slowly spelling out her demise, and that of the man who'd plagued the world with his evil for so long.
"The Dark Wizard, born Tom Riddle, known as Lord Voldemort confronts Lily Potter, and dies in the backlash of his own spell."
Lily sighed, her heart feeling tight in her chest. There. She may not live to see tomorrow, but she was damn sure taking that bastard Voldemort down with her. A crash downstairs, then silence.
"God, James...I'm so sorry."
Her eyes stung with tears as the ran down her face in messy streams. Slowly, she rose to her feet, stumbling her way to her son's crib. Harry was sitting quietly on his mattress, his breath coming out in little hiccups of distress. Lily smiled down at her baby. Everything for him...even if it damned her, she'd make the same choice, use this weapon of death, without regret.
A rush of feet on the stairs, and Lily froze, her eyes darting down to the Death Note. One thing was for sure...those monsters would not get their hands on this. Quickly, she pulled away the neck of her son's pale blue onesie, stuffing the Death Note down his front. That, at least, would keep it safe...for now.
.. .. ..
Petunia Dursley sneered down at her nephew, blinking teary green eyes up at her from his place nestled in his pitiful little basket. Tiny arms rose in a heart-felt plea to be held, and she scoffed. There was no way that she'd ever touch that...that...thing, if she could help it. With a sniff of disgust, she carried the little basket down her halls, quickly tucking it away in the cupboard under the stairs.
She frowned, taking in the little basket tucked in next to the broom and mop. That wouldn't do. She'd have to move her cleaning supplies, at least. Heaven knows the little brat would probably cry endlessly otherwise. That was for later, though...for now, she needed to figure out just what she and her thankfully normal family were going to do about this, how they were going to handle their unwanted burden.
The blonde sneered one last time at the child, shutting the door firmly behind her, cutting off the sound of soft, pleading whimpers coming from her nephew.
Harry sniffled, little shoulders shaking with tears. He'd never been a quiet baby, one to hold back the sounds of his distress, but this was different. The child, touched with death, was different. Wide, green eyes peered up into the blackness of his new room, feeling the rough scratch of the notebook tucked against his stomach.
Tiny hands tugged at his onesie, popping one, two, snaps loose, and the Death Note slipped out, falling behind a shelf, out of sight of his new guardians.
.. .. ..
Harry stared at the being in front of him, leering in dismay down at him. "Damn it. Yer too young, kid."
"For what, exactly?"
A smile full of razor teeth, wide as a Cheshire cat's, stretched the corpse-pale face. "Fer that."
One long, skeletal finger pointed down at the notebook clutched in his hand. Both ignored the sound of Petunia, wailing in distress. Harry blinked, staring down at his notebook, confused. He was too young for...a notebook? Really?
Just because he was five didn't mean he was dumb...quite the opposite was true, in his case, and said as much to the Creature.
A nasty chuckle was his only response. "Nah, kid...we're not s'posed to deal with kids yer age."
"...we?"
Harry frowned, biting back annoyance as the Creature only grinned at him, not saying anything more.
Green met glowing, shimmering red...red that seemed to see more than they let on, more than his human brain could comprehend. Slowly, a matching grin stretched the young genius' face.
"I'll make you a deal, Creature?"
Bloody eyes gleamed, teeth flashing like scythes in the dark. "Oh..?"
"I'll give you back your book...if you give me your eyes."
For a moment, there was silence, and then the Creature grinned. "Hyuk hyuk hyuk...I like you, human."
Harry was unmoved by the sentiment. It was, in his experience of the world, pointless and more than not likely to disappoint. "Do we have a deal, Creature."
"Yeah, sure...why not."
Slowly, a skeletal hand, cold as the grave, brushed over his eyes. Harry's breath caught, his heart pounding as Death seemed to whisper over him, murmuring all sorts of strange, dark promises of what he was, what he could become.
Harry blinked his eyes, brilliant green shimmering like a blood soaked ruby, before the glow vanished, leaving behind eyes that were the same as before, but more...more.
There was a tug, and the Creature lifted his hand, a tendril of writhing dark tangled in his fingers. Harry frowned, staring at the sentient blackness. The Creature merely leered, lifting his hand to shove the writhing dark down his gaping mouth, swallowing lewdly around his fingers.
He wasn't squeamish, but Harry knew better than to ask.
.. .. ..
He stared at her grave, and felt nothing. Harry had known his aunt's time was coming. The numbers...her numbers...had told him so, from the first time he saw them, drifting above her head like invisible smoke. Losing Dudley had been bad enough...and how Harry had enjoyed taking him and that odious Piers out with his now-lost notebook...but his uncle. Yes. That had been his final masterpiece, before the Creature came, before he had his Eyes.
A hand fell to his shoulder, and Harry looked up, blinking at the Man Who Lied. He looked nice enough, he supposed, but he was a liar. His mouth said "James Waller," but Harry's Eyes saw "Quillsh Wammy." Either way, it didn't matter. It wasn't like Harry had told the truth, either.
Beyond Birthday, indeed. The man must truly lead an interesting life if he took his words at face value.
"Let's go, child."
Harry—well, Beyond, now, he supposed—shrugged, letting the Lying Man lead him to his car. It was the type of car his uncle would have salivated over, but he didn't care much for it. All he cared about was the strawberry jam pastie sitting on a tiny little plate in the backseat. Thin fingers pulled apart the sugary crust, jamming sticky, strawberry coated fingers into his mouth. Ah, bliss.
He ignored the look the Lying Man gave him. After all, why should he care what a liar thought?
.. .. ..
Beyond blinked, momentarily stunned at the sight of the other boy. He sat crouched, his bare toes digging into the chair. Baggy clothes hung off his skinny form, and messy dark hair, so much like his, shaded pale eyes.
"B, meet L."
L blinked placidly at him, not bothering to say hello. Green eyes wandered to the numbers drifting lazily over the boy's head, taking in the whispy "L Lawliet" tangling and drifting amongst boy's life line.
Beyond smiled, holding back the urge to leer at the boy flinched, subtly. "Pleasure to meet you, Lawlipop!"
L stared, and B laughed.
[end]
Quick Afterword on the Death Note:
For those of you unfamiliar with the extensive list of canon rules surrounding use of the Death Note, I wanted to clarify a few points.
1. Death Notes CAN be used by their owners to kill themselves, so Lily's use of it was valid.
2. Death Note ownership will be passed on to the person holding the notebook when the current owner dies, thus Harry inheriting it.
3. Death Notes are not technically supposed to be handed over to humans under the age of 6. In this case, I am interpreting it to mean they are not supposed to be owned, full stop, by humans under that age, which is why I made the Shinigami so agreeable to making a bargain with young Harry. The kid wasn't supposed to even have the thing, so the best way to get it out of his hands was to take the deal.