A.N
Well, this is my omake chapter, or something like a few of them.
I mentioned Valentine's Day before, but it's not just that idea here, but many.
Essentially, it's kind of a bunch of drabbles comprised into a chapter.
It's little parts from behind the scenes that I had thought of and alluded to, but never showed in an actual chapter.
I'm fixing that, while also making a rough idea of where I want to take book three and Harry alongside it. (The Death Note presents some… problems.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy.
-O
(I don't own Harry Potter, Death Note, or anything you recognize)
Bold text=Emphasis or scene cut
Italics= Thoughts
Bold and Italics = Written things.
= separation of scene
(Book two)
Hogwarts, Scotland
(February 14th, 2023)
Love… isn't worth it. That had been Harry Potter's perspective on the emotion 'love' for so very long, and had continued on to that exact day, his mind on far more pressing matters.
Yet he couldn't hide, as almost every quarter of the castle was decked out in different shades of red and pink… It was nauseating, and threatened to blot out the sun with the bright shades.
He found it odd that the emphasis on Saint Valentine's was so much stronger now than the year before, but he assumed it was an attempt to try and make everyone forget about the fact that a textbook villain had run amok in the school and the Headmaster couldn't stop her.
Struggling to put one exhausted foot before the other, he made his slow way to the Great Hall, ignoring the signs of affection that had seemed to infect the entire castle.
He'd already jinxed Michael to swear venomously, which should put a damper on the pretty boy's mood, and maybe keep the boy's mouth shut as well if he was smart.
He suppressed a smirk then, as he could still recall the boy's unamused face as he insulted the very foundation of the holiday he claimed to love, in the most vulgar of ways.
As he reached the large, noble doors, he stepped through to see his worst nightmare.
Heart insignias were painted and printed everywhere possible, light pink doves perching on the tables, some carrying little notes, others simply snatching bits of food off people's plates.
Thank the void they aren't owls… Feathered fiends. He thought with a grimace, as he took a breath and walked to the Ravenclaw table, an empty spot between Luna and the foul-mouthed Michael saved for him.
Giving a nod to the two, a small smile and a sneer meeting him as he sat and looked at the heart shaped pastries scattered across the table.
A symbol shaped after an ass…. Everywhere, love is represented as a sexual symbol.. Wonderful.
Grumbling to himself, he grabbed some ham and reluctantly a pastry for his breakfast… only to be interrupted by a wide eyed dove.
"I'm not feeding you." Harry muttered to the bird, taking a big bite of the themed tart, just to emphasize his mean point. Only after he finished, did he notice the dove held a note towards him.
With a crooked brow, and a healthy dose of suspicious thought, he grabbed the note and unfolded the strange parchment in full.
Red ink met his sight first, as he read his very first Valentine.
I don't throw around compliments, but I like you.
Don't listen to what other people say, you're wonderful.
Just as soon as it began, the short message ended, and the dove flew off out of the Great Hall, as yet another mystery was dropped on him.
Someone likes me? Really? He thought, as he looked ever closer at the note, and tried to see if anyone was watching him. I'm wonderful?
Besides the usual students that gawked at him, no one unusual was, and that just complicated things even further…
"You got your valentine then? How was it?" A sudden voice asked him, causing him to turn slightly in surprise.
Luna smiled knowingly at him from his side, her grin quite Cheshire-esque, as amusement near seeped from her every pore.
"Did you send me this Luna?" He bluntly asked her, as he frankly was lost, though her sudden laughter told him she didn't without words.
"No."
"Do you know who did?" He asked her once more, his patience coming into precious use, only to not be surprised when she nodded her head furiously.
"Of course I do." She said proudly, as her face was near bisected by her infectious smile.
"Will you tell me?"
"Of course not." That refusal seemed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, yet he couldn't have been more frustrated with it.
"Why do I even talk to you?"
"Because you'd get all mean and moody without me around!" She exclaimed happily, drawing a few stares in the otherwise quiet breakfast crowd, though he didn't pay them much mind really.
He'd long since learned to ignore people… most people.
"I would not…"
"Yes you fucking would." Michael pitched in, an unhappy look still on his face as he stared longingly at all the girls that had jinxed him when he described them in less than pleasant words.
Harry knew the boy would get him back with a jinx or hex of his own, but he couldn't think on that right now.
Regardless, it was totally worth it.
(Book one)
Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey
(December 25th, 2021)
A cloak… of invisibility?
Hidden away in his bedroom in the pristine house, Harry looked over the mysterious gift he'd been sent, and scanned the note that had been attached to it once more as he rubbed the silky cloak between his fingers.
Your father left this in my possession before he died.
It is time it was returned to you.
Use it well.
A Very Merry Christmas to you.
Focusing on the swirly, wild handwriting, it was obvious that the handwriting belonged to Headmaster Dumbledore, as each year's letter included the elder man's signature at the very bottom. That was easy enough to deduce, but the why was much more difficult.
Why did he try and be anonymous? Is there something wrong with the cloak? He worried to himself, as he desperately hoped that the one true reminder of his parents hadn't been ruined in some way.
Looking over it, Harry couldn't notice anything overly messed up on the cloak, no rips or tears or anything like that, yet he felt a weird chill whenever he wore the cloak.
It was… disturbing, yet he saw the usefulness of an invisibility cloak, though he didn't have need of it now.
Pulling his trunk towards him and popping the magical lock open, Harry removed an eerie black book from within a hidden chamber, and had an idea.
What better way to hide it, then invisibility? He thought to himself, as he wrapped the tome with the cloak, before stuffing both back into the secret compartment, locking the trunk closed behind him.
Now… What do I do now?
(Book two)
Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts
(December 28th, 2022)
"I didn't kill the Basilisk." Harry told the man as he walked into Dumbledore's office, the titular man caught off guard for once, as Harry sat in the armchair before the noble desk.
Dumbledore nodded, as his guess had been proven true, as he'd suspected that Slytherin's monster had been an ancient Basilisk.
One that still lives?
"You… didn't kill it? But you stoppe-" Dumbledore started to say in confusion, though the boy quickly interjected to clear up the confusion between the two.
"I stopped Parvati Patil, yes… but I didn't kill the Basilisk. I… I got a letter from someone claiming to be Godric Gryffindor. He said he killed the basilisk, and sent me a fang for Noel." Harry said in explanation, as his memory flew back to the curved fang and the black book, the drips of green acidic venom dripping in horror.
Dumbledore, however, was surprised at the idea of someone impersonating a man that had been dead for over seven-hundred years.
Could there be a Founder's Heir here? A lost descendant of Godric? Dumbledore thought to himself, as he began to stroke his beard and thin jaw. I need to look into this.
With a low cough from Harry though, Dumbledore's focus was drawn back to the office and the current situation.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, before beginning to speak once more.
"Thank you for bringing this… oddity to my attention Harry, I will look into it. I suggest you return to your tower, enjoy what remains of the holidays, won't you?" Dumbledore said determinedly, as he gave the boy a weak yet cheerful smile. It wasn't very effective, as neither felt even remotely cheerful.
Harry nodded then, as he withdrew from the room, his thoughts racing past one another like stalwart comets.
He knew a dismission when he heard one, and there was much to be done still.
Why can't ghosts stay dead?
(Pre-Book One)
Privet Drive
(2018)
Harry had only a year with the mythical Death Note, yet he hadn't wasted any time.
With a hundred names down, Harry had settled quickly into his role, and resolved to eliminate the worst examples of mankind, all to ensure a brighter future.
The power of the book was addictive of course, almost intoxicating.
While it gave him a new gift in order to fight back against injustice, it carried another negative point as well.
Ryuk the Shinigami was his constant companion now, as the spirit followed Harry almost every day, very few hours left on his own.
The Shinigami tried his best to be friendly of course, but the eerie and callous nature of the spirit was terrible, especially since Harry had begun to agree with the spirit's beliefs. Fortunately, his will had withstood the spirit thus far, and he resolved not to fall to the mentality of a mere serial killer.
However, the constant company given by Ryuk was troublesome, and he had a question to ask of the spirit.
Harry rose from the moderately well-off bed he had gotten for himself, and turned his eyes towards Ryuk, the Shinigami looking through an old comic book of Dudley's, an image of a man in an iron suit on the cover. He always found the hero too snobby for his own taste, but the spirit seemed engrossed in the graphic novel.
"Will you follow me forever?" Harry softly asked the Shinigami, as he would prefer not to have his spectral stalker, though it worried him as well. Ryuk was… well the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend.
Do I want him to?
Ryuk on the other hand, near jumped from the sudden noise, and looked at him wildly in surprise.
It took a moment for the spirit to answer, obviously trying to answer in a certain way, a spindly hand coming up to scratch the being's head.
"Well, unless you turn over the Death Note to someone else, we'll be together until either of us die." Ryuk said slowly, as he obviously was hoping for Harry not to pay too much attention to his explanation.
Harry was a smart boy though, as well as extremely and bluntly observant.
"You can die?" He asked loudly, almost as if he hadn't entertained the thought of Ryuk, a God of Death, being vulnerable to death.
Ryuk sighed dramatically, as he obviously didn't want to explain that facet of his existence.
"Yes… I can die, but I'd have to sacrifice myself in order to." Ryuk explained slowly and carefully, before having a bright light bloom in his dark eyes. "But I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so get used to it!"
Harry sighed at that, but filed the detail away for later.
Till death do we part huh? Guess I'm stuck with him.
(Book two)
Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts
(November 19th, 2022)
Oh… that's disappointing… Harry thought to himself, as he stared at himself in the mirror.
His missing eye had still remained a gruesome socket, yet he did see a glowing pupil every once in awhile, but that wasn't what drew his attention then.
He had made the deal, the infamous 'Shinigami Eye Deal', the ability to see like a God of Death.
He'd come to the conclusion that the deal is always meant to screw one over, as the rule pages of the Death Note only had a brief description of the deal, and definitely didn't include the fine print he'd been dealt…
An eye for an eye, truer than ever before.
Bet Hammurabi never expected something like this… Harry thought grimly, as he stared ahead with something akin to horror in his eyes.
Within the mirror, he saw three numbers floating above his reflected head, a chill running down his spine as he realized what they were.
His remaining lifespan floated before him, yet something else was there… Something slightly more frightening.
7, 18, 5
CoD: Heart Attack
?
(August 12th, 2023)
His pay had been cut in half… again.
The industrial factory line he'd joined up with payed him just enough to live, but the owner had lost patience with him slowly, like everyone did.
Absences, unprovoked bouts of anger, he couldn't explain any of that to his 'boss.'
As a result, the older man had hit him with another pay cut, reducing his already miserable salary even more, meaning he'd have to settle for expired canned soups and simple sandwiches… again.
Sighing to himself, the weathered man wandered up the beaten path to a small cottage, his shabby shoes making a squeak with every step on the cracked cobblestone.
He had a terrible day, which would likely turn into a terrible week, then month, each worse than the last. It always was worse, either due to work or his bad living conditions, either way he felt like he deserved to whine every once in awhile.
He still couldn't believe how far his life had fallen in just twelve years, though he hadn't come from a posh beginning by any means, he had at least been happy then… And had a family.
I wonder if I can make it to the store before dark… The man wondered as he stopped beside an aged bicycle, his main means of travel after migrating to the Muggle World, though he resented the damn thing.
He missed brooms, but the Statute of Secrecy wasn't something he could afford to break…
Putting the reality of things to the back of his mind, he walked swiftly through the withering door of the cottage, and wandered to the small kitchen he had, only to freeze in place.
On the dining table, sat a familiar, bright royal red Phoenix, a rich envelope tied to it's talons. The Hogwarts wax crest sealed the letter within the confines of parchment, the color drawing his eyes in.
For the first time in a long time, Remus John Lupin felt hope.
Did you enjoy? Let me know.
Well, this was a omake/drabble chapter, just to fill the void between book two and three, and I will tell you, the Death Note will be featured more in PoA than it was in CoS.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and here's a short public announcement.
All mosquitoes deserve to be eliminated!
With that said, have a good day everyone.
-Oscar