A.N

I'm back, and this chapter was surprisingly easy to write, considering the last chapter took over a month. Perhaps the night has an affect on my writing, who knows.
I hope my standard held up, and that you all enjoy.
There's some character growth, some mystery, and a surprise for the near future.
Hope you all enjoy the chapter.

-O

(I don't own Harry Potter, Death Note, or anything you recognize)

Hogwarts, Scotland

(6:36 PM, October 30th, 2022)

"Hey Harry… how are you?" A soft voice spoke behind the lad, turning him on the spot.

Bushy brown hair met his sight, chestnut eyes meeting his, a deep sadness held within them.

Harry had wondered when the girl would show herself again, and his quandary had met its answer.
Apparently the girl could only go so far without reassurance from her savior, or whatever she saw him as.

"Hello Hermione, how are you…?" He asked, wanting to be anywhere but here, as he figured there were many better things he could be focusing on rather than the emotional girl.

"Terrible… but that's expected… How's your investigation going?" Hermione asked him casually, causing him to freeze up.

Does she read minds too?! Can this get anymore uncomfortable?

"Investigation?"

She looked unimpressed at his question, and simply raised an eyebrow.

"You're honestly trying to tell me you aren't looking for Sally-Anne?" She asked him, skepticism clear in her voice, let alone her face. Harry however, tried to maintain his poker face, but something about the girl eviscerated it.

Damn her… and damn her eyes!

He tried to maintain his silence, but she broke him way too quickly.

"I'm… trying, but I can't solve a mystery that has no evidence. I have no idea where she could be besides in the school." Harry told her, his intention was to be aloof, but he had a sinking feeling she'd search for more information than that.

"What makes you think she's here?" Hermione asked him innocently, but her eyes told him she already had reached that conclusion. He indulged her regardless of her own investigations.

"Because Dumbledore wasn't panicking."

"He may just be concealing his emotions."

"I know when the man is feeling something intense, his eyes look dead. He has a idea of where she is, and he expects her to live. No more, no less." He said to her briskly, before turning from her and walking away down the hallway, his intention to reach the dungeons before Snape lost the tiny bit of patience he possessed in that greasy shell the man called a head.

Hermione however would have none of that.

"Why don't we work together?" She asked him as she grabbed a hold of his arm, a look not that far from desperation in her eyes. "Between the two of us, there is no way we wouldn't find her…"

He didn't understand the pleading tone in her voice, and he chose not to decipher it. She had some… aura to her, that which he wanted no part of.

"Please?"

"Hermione… I will find Perks, but where I walk, I can't allow you to follow." Harry said swiftly and bluntly, his tone refusing any rebuttal. He'd read that line in several books and it normally worked for the male protagonists.

She ignored his tone, and proved that books were useless in real life.

"Why can't I help? You're acting like you're dangerous or something… or you're in some kind of danger…" She spoke to him, her tone soft but her voice filled with determination. He doubted she'd give up this time. "You need help Harry."

"I can manage on my own, I'd done it for twelve years."

"And I won't let you do it for twelve more. Let me help… or I'll follow you for the rest of your life." She said to him, a pathetic threat in her voice despite the inexperience evident in it. She wasn't used to threatening people, of that he was sure.

"You'd waste your life."

"I wouldn't have a life if you hadn't saved me… Let me help you before I have to save you too."

Harry sighed and closed his eyes in frustration, as she had a valid point. She owned him a 'Life-Debt', and he didn't really want to claim it. Of course he could order her to never come near him again, or obviously… make her his slave, but he didn't want to be a git, and he wasn't as evil as the last Kira seemed to be.

He let out a gruff growl, and opened his emerald eyes to gaze angrily at her.

"We will meet in the library one night a week, and we will share our findings. You will not follow me, we will not walk around together, we will not eat together at meals or team up in classes.
I am not Sherlock, you are not my Watson. Are we clear?" He asked her, making it known she was to take the deal or none at all.

She merely smiled a tiny smile at him, as her eyes seemed to light up with a mischievous gleam he didn't think she possessed.

"It's cute you think you're Sherlock…"

"Are. We. Clear?"

"Whatever you say John."

"So… you're working with Granger, are you?" Harry's extremely annoying Potions partner mocked him, as her grin widened near fifty degrees farther than usual.

Padma Patil, as always puzzled him and made him regret joining Ravenclaw house.

Ever since day forty, she had declared herself his 'best bad friend' and had practically glued herself to his side, a cruel joke or a saucy flirt at every corner, and her forcing answers out of him at wand point didn't improve his opinion of her any great deal.

Just like most… girls, he didn't understand her, and he chose not. All he knew of her was that she enjoyed making his day was horrible as possible, and being there to mock him about it.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

"You're more emo than usual, and Granger is practically glowing." Padma said bluntly, a sharp grin splitting her face, her eyes narrowed in amusement at his sad existence. Why did he tolerate her presence again?

Oh right, I can't get rid of her…

"Well, congratulations, you figured it out. She's forced her way into my case, and is forcing me to share valuable evidence."

"You have no evidence, do you?" She asked him, a taunting timbre to her voice.

He just sighed, as the girl had taken the time to analyze his crippling depression.

Of course she did, she's my eternal tormentor… Then again, I'd probably despise a happy life.

"No…" He finally said, the one word drawn out as long as could, as he laid his head on the table, his wild hair catching the flame charm beneath their potion, though the boy didn't even notice.

"You're burning."

"I don't care."

"Your hair's too nice to burn." She said, a sly pout on her lips, though he didn't notice it in his pathetic slump.

Maybe I am a little emo? He thought, though he didn't pay much thought to the idea. Sadness didn't really matter in the grand scheme of his plans. A little depression is pointless in the process of making a better world.

"My hair is a bird's nest." He dismissed her, as he didn't have that high of an opinion of his personal appearance. Superficial details weren't important to him.

"That's an insult to bird's nests."

Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts

"Albus, we must discuss Lockhart's… resignation." Minerva McGonagall said carefully as she observed the man she'd regarded as teacher and mentor for so very long, and tried to connect him to the fury stricken monster she'd seen just days ago.

A man, a 'celebrity', with a mind wiped clean… by Albus Dumbledore in a feat of rage. She'd no idea behind Dumbledore's motive, but from the rumors spread through the school, Lockhart might have deserved it.

Dumbledore, however, just sighed and averted his eyes from anywhere even remotely near her own gleaming orbs.

He felt regret and shame in his actions, of course, but a part of him showed no remorse.

The grandfatherly teacher had disappeared on that day, and the war hero had returned.

The man who put England back together again.

The slayer… of Grindelwald.

That fierce man hadn't been seen in decades, yet a simple act of arrogance had seen a resurgence in the old wizard.

Dumbledore and his deputy were both rightfully worried, as Dumbledore had noticed his temper flaring more often than he'd prefer, but he had no clear reason why.

For most of his life, his clear mind and sharp wit had taken him far in life, and earned the respect of many. So fitting Hogwarts' motto, that it's headmaster was in essence, a sleeping dragon.

And said dragon had woken up.

"The man was wicked Minerva… Even if he wasn't involved in Ms. Perks' disappearance, I've no doubt he was behind the disappearance of many others… as his stories have a bit too much detail…" Dumbledore near growled, the usual twinkle in his eyes now a piercing glare, his glance watching his hands, seeing blood that hadn't been there for many years.

"Where's that second chance perspective Albus? Where's that man gone, the leader of the light? Where's that good man gone?" Minerva asked him, her worry growing as the man seemed to be drifting farther and farther from the man she'd come to know.

"He isn't needed now Minerva, he only ruins things and lets the guilty run free and leaves the innocent to pay the price…" Dumbledore said gruffly, before turning to look out the window of his office, the sunset falling beneath his gaze, the end of an era in a sense

With the emergence of evil on the rise, he knew what this meant and was ready to face the next day, the new world.

The age of forgiving was coming to an end, and the Phoenix must bear its talons once more.

"No more second chances, no more mercy."

(8:32, October 31st, 2022)

"I appreciate the help Mr. Potter, you'd be surprised how fast this room grows foul." Fillius Flitwick exclaimed to the youth, the boy cleaning the floor of everything from feathers to scorch marks, voluntarily as well.

"It's no issue professor, I've already finished my assignments, and honestly needed something meaningful to do." Harry answered, his hands moving almost mechanically as his thoughts drifted far from the ancient castle, a stray thought going to the absent Shinigami. It had been weeks since he'd heard from Ryuk, and he'd begun to grow worried.

The last he'd heard of the death god, the Shinigami had mentioned meeting someone 'important', and that had been it.

Important could mean many things, and Harry didn't have any idea what Ryuk could have meant, nor did he have the time to.

He had a sinking feeling in his gut that something was going to happen, something terrible, as he never had a peaceful Halloween in his life.

How the event would, the boy had no clue, but his instincts rarely steered him wrong.

"Well Mr. Potter, if you ever find yourself want for work, I could set up some sort of advanced program, just in…" It was at that point that Harry tuned out the man, as something strange occurred.

An odd… hissing filled his ears and seemed to echo around him, the hissing stretched and annunciated, almost as if words were hidden within.

It was with that thought, that the hissing seemed to grow louder and audible, and he began to make out words in the mysterious sounds.

*Come ... come to me... Let me rip you... Let me tear you ... Let me kill you . . . .*

Harry shifted suddenly, as his face seemingly jumped back and forth as he looked in every possible direction for the eerie voice.

"Are you alright Mr. Potter?" Flitwick asked, concern evident on his face as he looked at his favorite student, even if he would never admit it.

Forgetting his knapsack, Harry raced out the door with a quickly called out apology, as he ran to follow the fading voice, a feeling of urgency overcoming him.

He sprinted at full speed and found himself approaching the dungeons and steeled his nerves, palming his wand as he went, a sense of danger lurking in the dark halls and in his bones.

After running through what seemed to be an endless labyrinth, the same stone walls and cold floors framing every step he took, he laid eyes on a short figure in black robes, seemingly writing on a wall in what appeared to be blood.

While said person was indeed strange, his shocked eyes locked onto what they held in their other hand… a plain black book, a very familiar black book.

Could there be… another one?

Before he could properly process what this meant, the clearly female person, spotted him and began to run at a fast pace.

Of course he gave chase, his lungs screaming at him in protest.

He had a feeling he'd found his suspect.

(2:07 A.M, November 1st, 2022)

His body burned, his sense alight with pain.

He'd never experienced the Cruciatus Curse, but he assumed it wouldn't be too different from as he was now.

From taking inventory of himself, he realized his right shoulder was either dislocated or mangled beyond belief as he simply felt pain and couldn't flex the joint.

His ribs were broken, he knew that much, and from the crimson staining his shirt and the pointed, sharp lumps beneath, he deduced that at least two of said ribs had pierced through his chest.

As well, he sadly realized something had indeed happened to his eyes, as his vision in his right was blurry while the left wasn't even usable.

To his horror, upon feeling the socket with his uninjured hand, he discovered that only a mound of ash remained of his left eye, emerald replaced by a burnt out husk.

He was relieved that he could move his body once more, but he decided that traversing through the halls in this state wasn't worth the unholy pain that burned his nerves.

Unknowing of what had happened to the dark witch or the masked boy who had pursued her, Harry simply dragged himself into a leaning position on the nearby wall, and felt his eyelids creep lower, soft music beginning to drift to his ears from nowhere at all.

The pain overwhelming, Harry let go and allowed the abyss to claim him.

Hospital Wing, Hogwarts

(8 hours later)

"I'm afraid there is no hope of recovering your eye Mr. Potter…" Madame Pomfrey said sadly, feeling true sympathy for the young boy, his attention focused on the mirror within his grip. "There simply isn't enough left in the socket to regrow your eye."

The empty socket had been cleaned and bandaged, but the boy had simply ripped said bandages off to observe the damage himself.

"Would I be able to get a prosthetic?"

The Madame winced, as she figured he'd ask that question, a reminder of another young man with a missing eye came to mind.

"It would be possible, but they are not very… fitting. Most models are strange, as not many wizards lose eyes, or have been able to regrow them through a stem or anything left." Pomfrey said gently, hoping the boy wouldn't panic at the realization he could either become a wide-eyed freak or live with a single eye for the rest of his mortal life.

The boy however just turned his remaining eye towards hers, and expressed a fire within his sharp gaze.

It was not anger within his leer, but molten determination.

"Thank you for the information." He said with a rough sound, as he looked once more at his reflection.

He knew what he had to do.

(Midnight)

In the dark of night, Harry Potter stood stock still as he looked through the hospital's wide windows, his mind made clear.

He had not planned on this course of action, especially that which he would use, a command that he'd promised not to give.

There's no going back.

"Ryuk, may Gods of Death relinquish your soul, I command thee to appear before mine self." He spoke clearly and sternly, his mild shaking not affecting his words.

He knew what would happen, and wasn't surprised when the Shinigami appeared in a violent flash of light, the ground shaking from the impactful light, unnoticed by any other being than himself and the death god.

Said Shinigami looked to be pained, and had a look of panic on his face, which only lessened slightly when he'd seen the one that had summoned him.

"Harry… pal, I thought you promised not to summon me…" Ryuk whined, betrayal clear in his eyes, a deep sadness there for all to see if one looked for it.

Harry's sole eye hardened, and looked past the Shinigami's brittle feelings, his intention to get straight to the point and play no more.

"Years ago, you made me an offer, half my lifetime for it… I said no, but now I can't say no. I can refuse no longer." Harry said gruffly, his face strong and precise. He had regrets, plenty of them. He hadn't wanted to give into the seductive offer, to think about the positives and the consequences of the deal, but he had no choice now besides bad ones.

He was merely choosing the better of two negatives.

Ryuk on the other hand was shocked, his grin faltering for a second as his eyes actually widened, a look of extreme surprise warring with that of excitement within the entity. Ryuk had no idea what to feel.

"You mean…?"

"Yes… give me the Shinigami Eyes."

Did you enjoy this?

I originally had no intention of including the Eyes in the story, but I kind of changed things up and decided that the plot could benefit from Harry having them. Dumbledore does have his own share of demons, and he'll have to deal with them, just like everyone else.

The Chamber is coming soon, and it definitely won't be in February. I've got ideas.

Anyway, so long for now.
Look forward to the next time.

-Oscar