A.N

I'm back, another chapter written in the dead of the night, which is when my mind seems to be the most productive, odd right?

However, I might not get the next chapter out anytime soon, as I plan on it being longer than usual, as the Chamber is next and I'll have to rethink the entire encounter to fit this story.

Regardless, here's the new chapter, enjoy it folks.

-O

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

Hogwarts, Scotland

(November 1st, 2022)

Why couldn't I be a Masochist?

That thought had been plaguing Harry Potter lately, as unholy agony once again reared it's head as Harry's skull near burst with violent energy.

The decision to cut his life in half wasn't his best idea, he had to acknowledge that, but it wasn't the worst idea he could have come up with, that was true.

He would have HATED living life with a single eye, but circumstances were rough, and he'd made the deal. Too late to take it back, too late to undo it all.

If he could, he'd go back and save his damn eye, but time travel was a fickle mistress; He knew that much from movies.

Almost immediately after the deal, a seemingly endless wealth of knowledge began to flow into his mind, forming a mixed spiral with that of his intense pain. A neutral tornado of torment.

He knew now where his mistake lied, as he recalled the rules regarding the Shinigami Eye deal… half his life for the deal… but of course, there was the fine print...

An eye for an eye, as it were, quite literally.

Human eyes, replaced by those of a Shinigami, scarlet for emerald, death for life.

Fortunate for him, normal mortals couldn't see the difference, according to the warnings that flashed into his mind.

Apparently… he'd botched the deal.

Eyes for eyes, yet he'd had only one to offer.

He'd need confirmation on the exact details, but he was certain of one thing, his vision was back to normal, but bad news again was in store.

His missing eye had definitely not grown back, yet a red tinted line of vision had replaced it.

Sight without anything to see through, odd enough without this weird not-eye.

Regardless, he'd make do, as he always did.

"What's the consequences Ryuk?" Harry asked the entity, his restored sight narrowed, as he knew a penance would come to him soon enough; The time would come much sooner than later, he knew that.

Ryuk's sharp and spiteful grin responded, mirth and mischief framing the glowing orbs he called eyes, the light mocking as it twinkled out and on, almost like christmas lights with burnt bulbs.

"I'm sure you've figured it out… the deal tells you the fact, only after of course." Ryuk answered with a dark chuckle, his eyes piercing into Harry's. "Yet, there's the downside to it… you screwed up the deal, you only got one eye from the deal. One function, not two."

After a moment of thought, Harry came to the clear conclusion.

"It's names, or lifespans… isn't it?"

"Of course you'd get it… Left eye is names, right is lifespans. You only offered your right, so you can see the lifespans of mortals. As you had no left eye to offer, you don't have the ability to see the names of mortals upon sight, yet the deal compensated you by providing what's known as… Death Vision." Ryuk spoke out, almost dramatically as Harry listened carefully, the additions to his arsenal of abilities interesting, especially since his magical abilities were sadly average at best.

"What's Death Vision? Also, theatrical much?" Harry mocked, an eyebrow cocked as he had a rough guess of the ability, at least he had an estimate.

Ryuk laughed a deep throaty snicker, as he did have a lust for the dramatic.

"Death Vision, is simply the ability to sense death in any form. From light traces, to the undead, no sign of death can escape your sight, much as my own sight can." The being explained, as his own eyes flashed blinding crimson. "I have a feeling the vision will come in REAL handy for you."

Harry nodded, as he had some suspicions already and couldn't wait to get started on another investigation of his, one he'd neglected for much too long.

"My eye socket will still be empty to everyone else, won't it?" Harry asked, a vague idea forming of how the eye would appear to others, as he had a good guess.

"To all other mortals, your ghastly socket will appear just as empty, ugly and morbid as before, but those of a… higher attribute may see a pupil at times."

Harry had a good guess of what the entity meant by higher attribute, and it painted a picture of a long beard and constellation themed robes.

"I believe that's enough for you to survive on, and as you insist on being a dick, I'll be watching you, since you obviously don't deserve my company." Ryuk said snarkily before disappearing in a huff, though Harry had a feeling that the Death God was simply invisible. A chill was still in the air.

With a shrug, Harry pulled himself to his feet shakily, only to remember that he was still a patient under Pomfrey's tender mercies, and he doubted she'd let him free anytime soon.

There was a reason he'd avoided her stern touch for so long, and her disgusting elixirs…

Hell hath no mercy like that of a healer scorned, no truth more evident than that.

With no other capable reason to remain awake, he lumbered over to the hospital bed and decided to sleep the night away.

Perhaps the harpy would let him free by sunlight.

(November 17th, 2022)

"Headmaster, I've some concerns." Harry spoke to the man, his tone actually reflecting the manner that the man often spoke in.

On the other hand, Dumbledore was just as concerned for the lad as the boy was for him.

After hearing of the boy's terrible injuries, he'd nearly ran himself ragged trying to determine what happened, but his time was best spent elsewhere.

The Chamber of Secrets had been opened, once again, and things seemed to be spiraling out of control just as before.

Disappearances, death, and a student framed. Rather than a half giant this time, it appeared to be Harry on the chopping block. Rumors had already begun spreading as Harry was found near the message, despite the fact that boy wouldn't have been found anywhere near it if he had been guilty.

Dumbledore knew of course that the boy was innocent, but there was an odd factor that he'd been meaning to address. An odd energy had seemed to be infesting the boy's empty eyehole.

The boy had come to a similar conclusion of the man as well.

"I have some concerns too my boy, but you might as well start us off. What is concerning you?" Dumbledore asked him, a therapist pose striking the man as he crossed his legs over a footstool that had suddenly appeared at his command.

"There is an influence of death corrupting you sir, and I believe it's shattering your soul." Harry said swiftly and calmly, though his eye and replacement both shared a serious look.

Out of all things that the boy could have brought to his attention, he had no expectation of that, though he had an idea of what the youth meant and had noticed as much in his own observations.

He also had a feeling that whatever energy had replaced the boy's lost eye had delivered such a conclusion to him as well.

As he'd come to know the boy by now, and he was much more like his mother than the man could have expected, he knew the boy wouldn't give up without concrete answers.

He'd give him some.

"My boy, have you ever heard of The Tale of the Three Brothers?"

The Ministry had impressed me, which is saying something.

From the moment I'd stepped foot into the Wizarding World, the Ministry had struck me as incompetent, mainly due to the buffoon that they called a Minister.

Cornelius Fudge, bloody hell, how he got anywhere in this world, I doubt I'll ever know.

To get back on track, the Ministry had actually stepped forward, and some Auror, Shacklesomething, had come to substitute for Lockhart until the new year.

Though the headmaster was hesitant, as expected, the man had revealed that he had a professor picked out to replace the blonde fool next year, but he just needed someone to fill in for now.

Interesting story however, three of my ancestors graced by death with gifts designed to kill them. From what Ryuk has let slip so far, there is apparently a 'king' of Shinigami, who seems to be Death incarnate.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say the guy's moonlighting as Death, which means he set my ancestors up to die just because they outsmarted him.

Bastard.

Anyway, there's a bunch of artifacts scattered across the United Kingdom, that supposedly are linked to the Shinigami, and one is less than a quarter of a mile from me.

Dumbledore's exposure is troubling though, as I've a feeling that his corruption is going to bring a cataclysm upon the Wizarding World, since I doubt he's got the soul for Shinigami Energy.

I, on the other hand, am already corrupted by death, unknowingly at first, and from my estimate would be the ideal user.

While I figure that this 'Master of Death' thing would likely end up being a ticket straight to the King himself, I'll consider it a final resort.

If the old man turns feral, I will have to disarm him, and might as well collect the others while I'm at it.

Perhaps I'll bury them under the Black Lake? Maybe lock them in a chest and feed it to the Giant Squid? There's got to be a solution, and I'll find it.

Oh yeah, and there's also that bitc- witch, that burned my eye away. I've still got to find her, and this supposed 'Chamber' is probably around here somewhere…

I wonder if the Bloody Baron knows? He's the Slytherin House ghost after all…

Then again.. There might be a certain girl that knows…

I have a feeling I will regret this.

"Padma… I need your help." Harry asked his fellow 'Claw, swallowing down what self-pity he had left, as he resorted to asking someone for help. Hermione had turned out to be next to useless, but Padma… he had a feeling she knew something.

The girl in question merely turned from the book she'd been reading, and flashed him an all-knowing smile that made him want to tear his other eye out.
The mere smugness of the girl made his blood boil.

"Oh, is Granger not helping out? I thought she was your partner?" She mocked, her eyes looking curious at his Vision Eye, almost as if she could see the glowing pupil that hid within.

Harry just cringed at the thought of Hermione being his partner in any sense of the word, and just looked at the girl in frustration.

"Hermione is even more lost than me, and I know you have some idea. Just tell me." Harry near begged, his eyes averting from hers as he couldn't believe he'd fallen so low in his deductions to need HER help.

"Say please."

His wand almost seemed to call to him, as Harry considered just cursing the girl and finding his own answers, no matter how long it'd take.

However, he figured it would be easier to simply give in, and seal away his disgust later. He had plenty of time to dedicate to self-loathing, and he would indeed beat himself up later.

"Please…"

She smirked at that, as she pulled a folded sheet of paper from her robes, and pressed it into his outstretched hand.

"Thank you Harry, that was easier than you thought, wasn't it?" She asked him, as he simply started walking from the Common Room, his attention firmly on the slip of paper as he chose to ignore the laughter of the obnoxious girl.

Upon unfolding the parchment, five simple words stood out to him.

Ask. For. The. Spirit. Myrtle.

Dungeon Storage Room 3, Hogwarts

(November 23rd, 2022)

The majority of Hogwarts' students found themselves crowded into a room that normally served as a storage room, but now had been transformed into a makeshift Dueling Arena.

Upon morning, the student body had been informed that the D.A.D.A substitute professor, Shacklebolt, had decided to form a Dueling Club in order to categorize the students and determine their levels of experience.

The Gryffindors had arrived last of the large group, was Weasley seemed to be slowing them down, if the loud complaints of the boy's apparent housemates were to be taken into consideration.

Trying to ignore the lout, Harry looked to the center of the room as Shacklebolt arrived, flanked by Flitwick of all professors.

While many students wondered why the half-goblin was there, Harry was aware of the man's history as a dueling champion, and thought his presence was fitting.

"Students, today begins the first day of the newly established Dueling Club, as I have no idea where each of you rank within your age groups, this club will determine what you'll learn and what I'll expect from you." Shacklebolt said in a booming voice, as he strode onto the dueling platform that was set in the middle of the room, Flitwick by his side. "From the looks of confusion on some of your faces, Professor Flitwick is joining me as my assistant, as he is a renowned Dueling Champion in five different tournaments."

Harry nodded himself, as many of his peers nodded as well in acknowledgement, though there were several who appeared confused still. Weasley was one of the select few that rivaled trolls in intelligence.

"The Professor and I will separate all of you into various groups, and we will establish a tournament setting which we will be continuing in the oncoming days. You will all advance in tiers, until a single duelist remains."

With that, the professors sorted the students into dueling groups, and one versus one arrangements.

Harry was forced into a few rounds against pathetic opponents, which despite his moderate strength, his sheer arsenal of spells tripped up his enemies quickly. A Stunner chain there, a Disarming charm there, and before long he finished off most of the students housed in his dueling group, though he had a sickening feeling in his gut as he went up against his next opponent.

Of course, his adversary was Padma, who wandered up to him with a smile that almost suggested that she knew they'd face each other.

However, he was seeing… something.

A shadow, something odd.

There was something… something familiar.

Regardless, he drew his wand, as did she.

A flash of red lit up the chamber, as red shined from his eyes.

Oh, I'll enjoy showing her, her place.

Slytherin Dungeons, Hogwarts

(Midnight, October 31st, 2022)

In the dark of the night, a young girl clothed in black ran through the hallways of the castle, a diary held in hand as she raced along the dreary pathways, her pulse racing as fast as her feet.

She knew he was following her, he'd caught on soon enough, but they had expected for Potter to catch on. She'd dealt a strong blow to the boy, but he'd kept up as well as they thought he would, he had exceeded their expectations regarding his willpower.

What neither of the two had expected, was the swift kick to the girl's leg, and a strong hand pressing against her mouth, bruises growing from the force of it.

Before the girl could even realize, she had been pulled into a shadowy classroom, one obviously not used in several years judging by the layers of dusting being disturbed by the two. The windows of the room were obscured with thick wool curtains, which by now were moth bitten to pieces, becoming just another withered piece of the room, just as withered as the room itself.

The girl was near thrown forward by her hidden assailant, her body flying forward and slamming onto what was once a desk, her head coming to a jarring slam against the rotten wood, her sight filling with stars.

She quickly turned her eyes to the obviously male figure standing in front of her, his stature small and bulky, but clothed entirely in dark, almost blood red robes. A fanged mask covered her attacker's face, but she knew one thing about his identity.

He wasn't Harry Potter, of that she was certain.

"You've got something I want. Something you shouldn't have…" The boy rasped out, his voice hidden by some magical means, the sound much like a rusted blade slicing through wood and as grating as jagged nails cutting through a chalkboard.

Subconsciously, the girl tried to cover the diary she held at her side, but the boy's glare found it before she had any hope of even avoiding his gaze. He obviously recognized the book.

"You can give me the diary… or I can take it from you." He growled out, what appeared to be an unfinished wand being pulled from within his robes, the tip quickly coming to rest against her tender skull. Her surprise at him knowing the diary was cut short, as her anger flared at his daring nature.

In response, the girl simply spit at him, her eyes arrogant as a griffon's and as rageful as the roaring sea.

"I had hoped you'd choose the hard way..." He snarled out lowly, a rough chuckle coming from his bulky frame. He advanced on her, his wand tip beginning to glow a painful red as he knocked her body to the rough stone floor, her head taking yet another painful knock.

He was going to enjoy this.

The important question however, is 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, and I thought of how the plot could shift from him having them and the overall ending.

Dumbledore does have his own share of demons, due to said corruption, and he'll have to deal with them, just like everyone else. Yes, the Deathly Hallows exist in this AU, but this won't be a MoD story, they'll be a passing mention at best.

The Chamber is coming soon, and it definitely won't be in February, as I've already expressed my dislike of an intense battle happening right after Valentine's day. Love is a war and all, but you're not supposed to nearly get killed on a day dedicated to romance.

Anyway, so long for now.
Look forward to the next time, I'll hear from you all then.

-Oscar