Death's Magical Connection
Sadly I do not own either death note or harry potter all that I do own is this story idea and the puppetry that is required to make the characters do what I want. Ps. Thanks to those that reviewed and commented I enjoyed the wonderful advice.
Chapter 1
Harry stared out the window, watching the birds fly by and dreamed his was on his broom. Bags were displayed under his eyes so clearly he took on a skeletal like look. Harry was afraid of sleeping. When he closed those luminescent green eyes he saw the ruby red eyes of his enemy fall into clouded mist when he had shoved that sword though his chest.
It was true about what they say a sword just makes death all that more real. He could still feel the blood running warmly down his hands. People clapped him on the back in congratulations yet his conscious shouted in denial that he had just killed a human, not much of one but still another human. Everyone told him that he did a wonderful thing but the feeling of guilt and self-hatred never ceased.
It took a month of staying with his Uncle and dealing with the hatred of the house before he was tossed into the streets. More like ran. His Uncle had started to wanting to play with him thankfully he never made it that far; it was the one thing he was grateful for.
He dare not go to the Burrow to face Ginny and Ron and Hermione had just gotten married so that was out of the question. Now he sat on a plane to Japan follow a dream that stretched into his past. He always dreamed of a bird that would talk and watch over whispering words of encouragement. He would look the bird in the black onyx eyes and fall into a joyous sleep. It was a dream that never changed and appeared at least once if not twice a week.
When the plane landed he did the first thing that made since, he brought a house large to compare to most of the houses he had seen and old. He wanted a house with history so he purchased one that was made for old time lords and covered three fourths of a street for space. The house was open and secure, easily holding all the traps that Harry had to set before his paranoia took over. He shook his head he supposed Moody's voice of constant vigilance had finally taken what was left of his normalcy. What he loved most was the garden though.
The garden itself held a small lake and gazebo littered with plant of all kinds. It didn't even include the middle part of the house, which was left open holding a large cherry tree and a small amount of purple plants. The sounds and quietness of the area gave him peace and though his house was grand to others and would be considered expensive he thought nothing of it. In fact since his defeat the money that Harry found he owned made buying two continents only a small dent in is bank.
It was in this garden that Harry found himself in often enough with nothing to do but the small hobbies he had started. One such hobbies was cooking, thanks to the Dursley's influence he could cook up there right with all the great culinary chiefs but the other was painting.
Back home when Remus had discovered his painting of Hogwarts before and after its fall he was astonished. He could barely manage the whispers of praise before he ran showing the rest of the Order. They to where brought to tears and silence by the mere beauty of them. Hermione was the reason that his painting was well known though. She had shown her parents and they and barrowed them and had them hung in a gallery. Thousands of people showed up gazing at the painting entitled Rise and fall by an unknown artist who signed his paintings Wizard. Demand for his art work increased and now ranged from things such as dementors and Norwegian Ridgeback to quidditch and Albus Dumbledore. So in his garden he sat painting the things he could remember and the scenery that he saw. Hoping to live his days out peacefully.
L. Lawliet stared at his computer screen the bags under his eyes highlighted by his pale skin. He had little to go on with this new case and was running into countless of dead ends. The murderer was killing randomly as far as he could tell following a pattern in how they were killed alone. Each victims house was opened with no force, no locks were picked as though the victim had just let the killer in. the victim was always killed along with all those in the house at the time. The cause of death was unidentifiable and left no trace of the killer and on the front of the door the morning after the people inside the house were killed an authentic Wizard painting was found.
L. came to the conclusion that it could be the painter that was murdering these people yet he could find nothing on him. The only clue he had gotten was the paintings had started in England by a Mr. and Mrs. Granger and their daughter, who had vanished after her parents were killed, and was now in Japan.
He had tried all of his contacts even going so far as to investigate in the pentagon in the U.S. in search of the man who painted under the name of Wizard. A knock on the door drew his attention away from the screen that was becoming an obsession. "L." Watari entered holding a cheese cake with strawberry syrup. Turning off his computer screen and closing it so not to damage his equipment and took the cake from the wrinkled hand. "L. you are obsessing with this case." L. nodded he knew full well that he became quickly obsessed. Watari shook his head "no sir you are obsessing just like you did with Boy." L. stopped eating the cake and put it down. Everyone understood that Boy was never mentioned.
"What do you mean?" Watari realized his mistake but L. was losing weight and what sleep that was possible for the young man and his worry had overridden his caution. "You are acting as you did after Boy disappeared. You do not sleep missing what sleep you had to begin with. You are not eating be it substantial food or your sweets and loosing energy, if you do not recover and pull back we will have a repeat of Boy." he left it at that choosing to leave L. to his work.
L. was left in shock at Watari's observation and going to a mirror realized that Watari was correct. So coming to the decision for a rest of his mind he went showered, changed his clothing, and summoned Watari for an outing.
Normally something as this would mean nothing but fate always has other ideas that are meant to take us by surprise. In this case Harry had just left his house to shop for supplies, while L. was going on his outing. L. was a curious creature through and through, he never used his real name and the only one who knew what his name was Whammy of Whammy's house. So when people, myself included, called his name he left the mystery alive by abbreviating was never needed to be abbreviated.
His name was not the only thing that was curious about the current L. in fact since we last left him he had lost his attachment to people. When Harry or Boy left he had gone insane searching and coming up with nothing. It was as though Boy never existed. He considered himself a genius but he could not locate a single child and his body… it became the feeling of grief that he could do nothing that became the drive to his success.
The drive that lead him to fate granting him the ability to see his lost friend once more with a chance for something more.
It was loud and Harry was on constant alert. He felt as though hundreds of eyes stared at him, if he had gone to a doctor they would have called it Paranoia but as it was he did not trust anyone after all that had happened. He was pulled from his thoughts of the past and mistrust when he bumped into a elderly man.
Looking down he found the old man held a stunned look upon his face while he wore a rich western style suit. It was strange for where he was in his opinion no idea about how he himself stood out in his traditional kimono.
Watari looked up at the young woman who had made him loss his balance, a feat that was hard to do considering his training he had obtained while under the guardianship of L., and could not help but contemplate why she was dressed the way she was. "I'm sorry sir." The voice was soft and yet held the authority one would expect of a leader, it was also slightly deeper than the voices of other women he had heard. Watari saw the hand that was held out and took it gratefully and once risen bowed. "no miss I am the one that should apologize." Looking up he saw that the fair face had become contorted with ire. Finally after watching the face calm and the thoughts fly into a set position Watari saw eyes like no other. Bright green that shone stronger than a flame hypnotized him so that he almost did not hear what was being said…"I am male."
Harry could not believe he had just been labeled as a female. He admitted that since he had arrived about six months ago his hair had grown reaching just between his shoulder blades and was in a ponytail but come on was he really that short and girly. Sighing at the quizitorial look he acquired his suspicions where only confirmed. "Are you really?" was all the older gentleman could get out and Harry nodded.
Watari started to laugh and the poor boy appeared disgruntled he laughed harder barley managing to put out an apology for his mistake. It was then that L.'s voice reached his ears. Turning he found a L. at a loss for words and uncharacteristically gapping at the young man that he had run into.
L. could not believe the sight that fell into his vision. Watari and he were going down the street after leaving his favorite cake and coffee shop and without his noticing he had lost sight of his guardian. He had backtracked and found Watari laughing while a youth in traditional noble clothing pouted. Calling out to them both he was taken aback by eyes that he had not seen in about fifteen years. Eyes that were unnaturally green and drew him in like a black hole, eyes that he could not replicate though hundreds of computer programs, eyes that remained burned into his mind…in front of him on the face of this being was Boy's eyes, meaning that this could only be…Boy.