A.N
So… been a while.
Hope you've all been well, as I have.
I've been putting most of my effort into my studies, as I graduate in a few days.
(Getting my Master's in History and English, so I've been busy.)
I'm glad so many of you enjoy the story, and to address something. Harry is nowhere near the level of Light. He won't be a copy of him, as he is much more human than Light Yagami.
In my mind, he is still just Harry Potter, mixed with a touch of Light and Sherlock Holmes.
Above all else though, he is a hero.
With that done, enjoy.
-O
(I don't own Harry Potter or Death Note.)
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding
(November 1st, 2021)
"Ah Severus, do come in, sit." Albus Dumbledore spoke softly as the man in mention crept slowly into the expansive office, and gingerly took a seat in front of him.
Severus was still for several moments following that, and the two men stared at one another for a time, neither saying a thing.
They both knew what they were meeting about, their concerns had been confirmed.
"Is he dead for good?" Severus asked his elder, his voice barely a whisper as his gaze drifted down to his own hands, his eyes scanning every single line… every scar… every mark that showed just how jaded he was, and how the world and his poor choices had treated him.
Albus sighed a bit, as his face drooped audibly, his glasses slipping as he looked every one of his years.
After all this time, he had become used to such disasters and horrors as the likes of the dark lord.
"I'm afraid… that Voldemort has, yet again, evaded his well deserved death." Albus spoke, his mind wandering as he still couldn't believe that Quirrell had somehow slipped past his notice.
Voldemort had snuck past him, and hid himself inside HIS castle, HIS school.
Albus was the headmaster, it was his duty to protect the children of Hogwarts, and he had failed each and everyone of them by allowing that monster anywhere a single one of his charges…
This was the proof he had never wanted to receive… He was old…
"How?" Severus asked him, his eyes still locked onto his own hands as his sharp mind searched over every dark ritual he could think of, trying to determine how the murderous terrorist could have survived yet another death.
"I'm afraid Severus, that I can't reveal that information," Albus said sadly, as he locked eyes with the other man then, his trademark twinkle gone now. "I've no doubt that Voldemort will return and call you to his side once more. We can not afford for him to discover that his 'immortality' has been learned."
Severus nodded at that, as even though he had wished to learn more, he acknowledged the knowledge Albus expressed.
The two had known each other for years now, had experienced the worst of the last war, from separate sides of the coin.
Albus Dumbledore was the one person in the world who knew him best, and vice versa.
He knew that Albus would give no more than that.
Albus was a secretive man, of that he was sure, yet he knew he could trust him when he had to.
"What of Quirrell?"
"I'm afraid we can do no more for him. He has no family, and as for his health, the man was dead the moment Voldemort possessed him." Albus said, a rare fury entering his gaze when he thought of his mortal bane, and another failure.
Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr, Lord Voldemort, was the opposite of all Albus stood for, and he wouldn't stand for it any longer…
Yet another innocent life was taken, and he couldn't do a thing to stop it… He had so many chances to stop him, if only he had payed a bit more attention…
He knew he had failed, once again.
Failed Hogwarts and her students,
Failed Quirinus Quirrell,
And above all else, he failed Harry Potter.
It was true, He mused to himself, his eyes far from the ones of the brooding man before him. The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil, is for good men to do nothing…
"How did he even die? Madame Pomfrey said his kidney ruptured, but I firmly remember Quirrell being in well-health." Severus asked, his eyebrows furrowed as they met eyes. Neither believed such an injury was natural. Albus sighed heavily before answering.
"Keep in mind, this is purely a theory," Albus started, his hands coming to rest together on the desk surface. "I believe his body began to break down from the constant strain that Voldemort exerted on him. His kidneys seemed to be the first to fail."
Severus nodded then, and put Quirrell's demise behind him, and thought about the real issue they faced.
"Is there anything else Headmaster? I've still got to prepare my ingredient stock for the year." Severus questioned the man, his mind focused on anything else.
He had to determine what Voldemort had done, and undo it. He swore to it.
A monster such as Voldemort could not be allowed to live, and they both agreed there.
"No Severus… I believe that's it," Albus said grimly, before the twinkle flashed back into his eyes, and a wily grin rose into place. "Now, what have I have said about calling me Headmaster?"
"Goodbye Albus."
Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
(July 30th, 2022)
It had been a quiet night so far… until the odd elf had interrupted his writing.
Harry had chosen deranged psychopaths for the nights names, ranging from America to Asia, from one-time to serial.
He figured he wasn't fairly spanning across the demographic, and didn't want to make it seem as if all the 'convenient' deaths were happening only in Britain.
Over the time he had possessed the Note, he had read up on all the sick bastards that polluted the world, those that would never reform, never regain their humanity that they had so willingly given up when they became horrific creatures that shared the same species as him.
In his time with Ryuk, Harry had learned of many a monster, each more terrifying than the next… but none had compared to those that he had read of on that night.
How one could degrade themselves so much, and be so…savage and cruel…?
It sickened him to the bone, and he couldn't remain calm after hearing of their gruesome deeds.
He couldn't stand it, and he couldn't let those monsters roam free among the innocent.
Regardless of what the police, or others may think… these peo- no… creatures, deserved nothing but a slow and brutal death.
If only I had a wa-
That, was when a sudden pop echoed in his bedroom, and the security system he had installed went into effect.
The system was developed by an obscure technology firm on the other side of the Earth, and had been intended to trigger a simple defensive grid when it detected movement that traveled at an extreme speed. The 'Tracker Point' they called it.
It had been created to detect enemy aircraft and missiles, but he assumed that it would suffice for a security system.
It had taken some convincing on his part to get the company to work with him, but when he offered twice of what they usually charged, "Vernon Danvers" had himself a state of the art security system.
After reading about the method of Apparition, Harry had theorized over the magic behind it, and had wagered that the system would trigger if an intruder had tried to invade his home.
Without testing it exactly, he couldn't know whether it would capture a wizard, but that was something to test later.
He hadn't planned for it, but the system had found a House Elf.
With a sudden vibration of his Bluetooth, Harry turned on the spot and had his wand aimed directly at the short elf, the elf's eyes widening at the unexpected gesture. Apparently the elf hadn't been counting on hostility.
"Mister Harry Potter sir, p-please do nots hurt Dobby! I only wants to warn yous!" The young elf, supposedly named Dobby, begged as it quivered in the corner of his room.
Having realized that the invader wasn't aggressive, Harry holstered his wand, as he knew the true powers of an Elf. Even a lowly house elf outranked his magical potential, which wasn't hard to overpower.
While Harry possessed a superior intellect, he wasn't exactly powerful, especially when compared to his school mates.
He didn't need to be strong, just precise.
"Tell me 'Dobby'… what message do you carry?" Harry asked in a tense tone, his mind pulsing and rushing to process every detail of the elf before him.
The elf is dressed poorly, symbolizing that his owners don't care for the elf's well being as the elf is obviously mistreated, along with the elf's thin frame bordering on skeletal, despite the advanced metabolism of the species.
The elf is covered in bruises, and his hands are layered in cuts and cauterized burns, as if he had been burned by an iron or oven.
By the angle of the burns however, it appears that the burns were self inflicted, implying that the elf has self esteem issues, and likely believes that his injuries were of rightful punishment.
The elf is possibly unhinged and should be approached with caution, regardless of the circumstance.
Whatever he might say, it will be useful to me, as long as I don't antagonize him.
"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year… " Dobby near screeched, his arms waving madly in an attempt to perhaps frighten Harry into complying.
"I've seen many terrible things in my life. Not all of them safe or even sane Dobby, what makes this 'plot' any different?" Harry asked him, his eyes scrutinizing the elf's nervous demeanor, as it was obvious that the elf couldn't tell him much. Whether out of fear of punishment or obligation to an oath, it would stand to be determined.
Rather than answer, the elf looked at… something Harry couldn't see, before disappearing into thin air.
He looked around then, his eyes scanning over the tiny details in his room for some signs of what could have scared the el-
"Harry, I heard the alarm, what's going on?" Ryuk asked him with a grin, flying quickly through the wall of the room, as the hairs on Harry's neck flared up at the sudden chill in the room.
"Just a… messenger Ryuk, nothing more." Harry muttered to him, his mind racing to decipher where the elf might have gone, and what the supposed danger to him could be.
Whatever it may be however… it wouldn't stop him.
No matter how bad of a choice it may be, Harry knew he had to return to Hogwarts, whether it was some odd call to arms, or some vivid aspect of his imagination… he knew that was where he had to be.
The elf's warning made it even clearer. Hogwarts was in danger, along with all those inside it, and he had to go back to it.
He had to save all of them, no matter the cost.
Once again, he had to be their hero.
Perhaps he had a hero complex, or a god complex, but he knew that was his duty.
Defeat the bad guy, kill the monster, and save everyone, just like in the fairy tales they write about him.
Maybe even get the girl.
But no matter his role in the grand scheme of life, he would save the day, or die trying.
(August 19th, 2022)
Half the month had passed before the magical world showed itself once more, interrupting his purge of those that the world had no means of stopping, the goliaths of criminals that couldn't be stopped by mere officers, those that deserved to be put down like dogs.
Despite the torturous visits by many different Hogwarts owls, they had sent yet another to him, much to Ryuk's dismay.
Walking into the kitchen, Harry got a closer look at their latest invader, what appeared to be a smug Barn Owl resting on the window sill.
Much like the others sent by Hogwarts, the bird carried a formal letter upon its leg, the wax crested seal standing out on the pale envelope.
Having learned from his prior mistakes, and upon experimenting during Hogwarts meals, Harry grabbed a piece of his forgotten breakfast and threw it towards the proud bird.
Untying the crimson ribbon, he held the letter in his hands and read the words inked on the parchment.
Mr. H.J. Potter
The Fourth Bedroom
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Hmm… just as before it seems, but apparently it's now labeled as the fourth bedroom… Interesting. Harry thought to himself, as he pried the seal off and unfolded the documents within, his thoughts wandering as he did. Obviously it's linked to some scanning database of sorts, or a magical equivalent, as there is no logical way it would detect my shift in boarding…
He needed to look into it, that was for sure.
Focusing his eyes, he began to read the quilled message within.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
Dear Mr. Potter, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have been invited to return to Hogwarts for another year to continue your education.
As a second year, the same schooling rules still apply, as by usual.
Included below is the listing of the year's requirements.
SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2: by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee: by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls: by Gilderoy Lockhart…
Harry narrowed his eyes at the repeated name, and attempted to think of where he had heard that name before. Why he had to buy seven books from some random person, he couldn't quite understand.
Goshawk, that's a given… but who is this Lockhart, and who names their kid Gilderoy? Harry thought, as he turned to Ryuk for some input.
To his misfortune, his friend looked just as lost.
"Hey Harry… what's a Lockhart?" Ryuk asked him, the spirit's pointed face reading over the boy's shoulder, both of them confused over why he was required to buy seven books from one single man.
"For once Ryuk, I've no idea."
(August 25th)
"Petunia, I'm going out." Harry said briefly as he stepped to the door of the house, adjusting the collar of his coat as he did.
His aunt merely was surprised and seemed to be once again struck out of the daze his actions had left her in. Of course, she had no idea what he had done exactly, but she was obviously affected.
She even appeared to care for him in some capacity, but evidently not enough to have done something about her 'husband' sooner.
"Oh… well I'm making roast tonight, don't stay out too late." She said faintly, as she attempted to give some form of a smile, but he would disagree.
He was concerned at times about her, she was a living tie to his mother, and still related to him. He could only assume from a psychological level, she would recover in time, and he in a way, was happy for her.
He hoped she would have a happy life… once he left.
"Petunia, we both know you can't cook to save your own life," Harry said blatantly, as he stared her down. "I'll bring something home, just go watch the tele."
At her shaken nod, Harry walked out and onto Privet Drive.
Turning briefly to lock the door, he began to think on how exactly to get to London, when he reached a brilliant thought.
Well, perhaps not brilliant, but at least an effective idea.
With a few clicks on his phone, he had his ride.
"Hello, can I get an Uber?"
Diagon Alley, Magical London
He had made quick progress with obtaining the necessary supplies for the year, and checked in briefly with Gringotts, before reaching the final step on his trip.
Flourish and Blotts was usually close to empty, besides a few customers at usual times, even when students were shopping for Hogwarts.
Today, was much different.
Instead of a modest group of shoppers, a near crazed mob assaulted the store front, all seemingly obsessed with getting into the normally peaceful store.
Harry had no idea what had possessed the people, middle-aged women he noted were the most ravenous, until he saw a colorful banner hung from the store's roof.
In bold golden letters, read:
GILDEROY LOCKHART
will be signing copies of his autobiography "MAGICAL ME," today from 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.
Harry just sighed, as he had a feeling that the man would be annoying and prideful, just from the framed painting of the man's gleaming teeth.
It even scared him a bit.
"Do you think he bleaches those things?" Ryuk wondered aloud, as the shinigami began a staring match with the animated portrait.
Rather than answer, Harry just resigned himself to this hell, and took a place at the back of the mob.
It was only when he began to check the latest news posting on his phone, did he hear a loud voice from behind him.
"Harry! It's so good to see you." A warm voice said as he was engulfed in a tight embrace, that oddly enough smelled of vanilla.
He however, couldn't see his assailant, as brown bushy hair clouded his limited vision.
"Hello Hermione." He said in a simple greeting, as he grimaced at the attention. Harry wasn't much of a… close contact person, but he could bare it.
He knew he couldn't just send her away, as saving one's life tends to endear them to the savior.
He had only saved her from a mountain troll, nothing much…
A simple severing charm to the floor had caused the troll to entrap its leg in a hole, trip forward, and smash its head against the wall.
The troll probably had brain damage, but at least the two had emerged unharmed, with Hermione being a bit… clingy.
"How was your summer?" Hermione asked him, her eyes seeking out his as she stopped the hug she had forced upon him.
He didn't quite understand her eyes, as they always seemed to hold some semblance of innocence, and always made him feel… better, in a way.
It unnerved him.
He looked over her then, and noticed that unlike himself, she didn't change much from the previous year.
Perhaps she had gained half an inch of height, and her skin had tanned a bit, and besides that she appeared to be the same as before.
He, on the other hand, had grown over an inch in height, and had kept his hair shortly cropped, the bangs just touching eyebrows.
He was just pale as chalk still, but he reasoned that he wouldn't be able to change that easily.
He'd noticed that his eyes had darkened yet again, which he found odd indeed.
Thus their conversation began from that, her discussing the summer she had spent abroad, and him making up some alteration he could use to describe his own. An average boy didn't spend a summer delving into the corruption of the political world and combing through the overlooked crimes or criminal cases that had frozen over.
"I didn't do much… "
King's Crossing Railroad station, London
(September 1st, 2022)
Hmm… This is obviously a sign of some outside influence, as the barrier never closes until the train departs, and I know that it doesn't until five minutes from now. Unless… Harry analysed as he looked at the pillar that normally hid the entrance to the muggle-repelled platform.
He knew from his personal studies that only in the event of emergencies would the barrier close early, and he doubted that was the case.
Rather than panic, Harry instead took a seat on a nearby bench, and rested there. He looked to his left then, and saw the curious face of his closest friend, and knew Ryuk was treating the 'mystery' much like a game. He knew the shinigami by now, that almost everything was a game to him.
"Ryuk," Harry began, only to be interrupted by said being.
"Yes Harry? Do you need something? Maybe advice? Boys your age norma-"
Harry just too a breath then, and looked at the shinigami once more.
"Just… go to the school and tell the Headmaster that the barriers closed and I'm waiting here." Harry said in exact wording to ensure that his instructions were clear.
"Sure! Though that adv-" Ryuk said, a mocking gleam coming to his eyes, though Harry wasn't in the mood.
"Ryuk, just tell him."
"Who you talking to lad?" A portly security guard of some sort asked him, a concerned tone to his voice. Harry had an excuse in hand, as he just tapped his Bluetooth. The guard seemed to take the hint, and moved past him.
"See you later Harry!" Ryuk said excitedly, as he took off into the sky at an incredible speed.
"Well… time to get comfortable." Harry mused as he settled down on the wooden bench and began to wonder what mysteries or danger would await him that year.
Might as well get used to it.
New Scotland Yard, London
(January 30th, 2022)
"Tell me… who are you really?" Robert Stone, the Prime Minister of Britain, asked the young man before him.
The two had settled into the luxurious office almost two weeks after the young detective had arrived in London, as only just then could the two meet together. Both men had been scouring over all the information available to them, and hadn't the chance to really discuss the true question there.
Who was L?
Robert had leaned back in his posh chair then, and simply observed the young man before him.
The man known only as L just sat at the side of the desk, his eyes focused on something only he could see, his attention obviously lost within his own mind.
Robert had noticed that L often got lost in his own little world, and often let the man find his own way back to reality. Occasionally the man hummed some soft tune, but despite the odd behavior, he knew L was in deep thought on some subject.
However, this couldn't wait.
Robert had given L full access to the archives, along with everything they had on the string of crimes that L insisted were connected, despite the differences.
Many investigators had already concluded that the deaths were unrelated, as there was nothing connecting them besides the fact that criminals died, some by heart attacks, and others by brutal deaths.
Regardless, each and every death confused them.
However, Robert couldn't stand L's secrecy any longer, and he knew that L knew more than he was letting on.
Robert knew beneath those dark eyes of his, that L knew what was happening, and that he was a liar.
Even if L was the world's greatest detective, Robert wouldn't listen to his excuses any longer.
L's eyes cracked open at the sudden question, as if he had been expecting it and had already planned his answer.
"I'm L." The dark haired man said, his tone soft yet stiff as he played with a sweets wrapper, an image of a small bear printed on the paper.
"No you aren't… You and I both know L. Lawliet is but a skeleton in a coffin by now, so who are you, and why are you pretending to be a dead man?" Robert asked, his question fierce and close-ended, as he left L no room to dodge the question.
He had the single question since the man had contacted them, and he wouldn't let L weasel his way out of this one. His predecessor had known Lawliet personally, and this imposter seemed to be mocking all that the original had done.
Robert would get his answer.
L seemed to find the stern look on Robert's face funny however, as he began to chuckle to himself as he met the other man's eyes, amusement shining in his own dark ones.
"L will never die, and I'm just another face of his." L said as he stretched slightly, his eyes never leaving Robert's. "Lawliet may have been the first, I won't be the last, but I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you there Minister Stone."
"And why is that? Why must you continue this charade? I understand that you regard your privacy so fiercely, and I know that… Near is gone, but do you really think this is necessary? How do you even know this is Kira?" Robert asked, his eyes fogging slightly, as he wondered about the last 'L', the one that had been responsible for ending the last Kira.
None of the government officials that had worked with Near had known where the boy had gone, but indeed he had went somewhere.
Most assumed the youth had perished in some sort of case, perhaps an accident of some sort.
Robert entertained the notion that perhaps the man before him was actually Near, but he dismissed the thought.
L simply looked at him then, and looked confused for a second, before he nodded to himself.
"As long as Kira lives, my name stays with me, but I will tell you this Prime Minister," L said softly, as his eyes drifted out into the distance, a small smile coming to his face.
"Near's alive… on the other side. He's finding Kira."
"But I thought Kira was the one committing these crimes?" Robert asked him in confusion, his mind trying to keep track of the information L was providing. Rarely did he share such secrets.
"He is, and yet he isn't. My task is to find the last Kira," L said, as a chuckle came to him then, the jovial tone surprising Robert then. Robert didn't understand what was so funny, but he just leaned closer.
"Near is finding the first."
Did you enjoy?
I thought about it, and there is no way I can do all of the books in single chapters. Chamber has too much content for a single chapter, and attempting to fit it in one chapter will take too long.
I hope you've enjoyed, regardless of the shorter length.
I will try to update sooner, but I can't promise anything
Have a good morning.
-Oscar