Atropa Belladonna: Death Note X Harry Potter

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1: 𝕬𝖘𝖕𝖍𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖑

A crop of well-combed brown hair was visible in the crowd. On normal occasions, it wouldn't be, not to the plain eye, but this is the visibility of the light of plot. And by the light of plot, you could see that particular brown haired boy in the middle of the London crowd.

His origin was Japanese, however he lived in England due to his father's job and some complications in his family. He was, I suppose you could say, was handsome, and had many girls and boys as secret admirers. He found those love letters amusing, but never really had the will to return the sentiments. Not that returning them would do any good, on the contrary, it would make them worse.

His name was Light Yagami, fifteen, highest scorer in OWLs ever since Tom Riddle. He was lauded to be a genius, and he sucked up the praise, however he couldn't, for the life of him figure out why Dumbledore appeared to be so wary of him.

He supposed, being in Slytherin and being praised as the next Tom Riddle would be enough to earn the man's distrust, but did he seriously think that he was going to become the next Lord Voldemort? The idea was laughable. He knew for a fact that Tom Riddle had grown up to become the man who everyone now feared. Lord Voldemort.

The fear was so great that they wouldn't even call him by his name, choosing to instead say, "He Who Must Not Be Named," or "You Know Who."

Light, in his mind, had dubbed him as Kira, the Japanese for "Killer." Because for all his grandeur, that was what Voldemort was to him. A serial killer with zero sense of justice. Justice. A funny word.

Where is the justice?

Light mulled over the question in his head, the corners of his mouth twitching as he exited Flourish and Blotts with his books. He had come here in the supervision of his father, Sourichiro Yagami, who was the Head of the Auror Department in the Ministry. He paused to buy some apples for his pet owl, Ryuk.

Now Ryuk was another oddity. He liked to eat only apples, was awake all the time, whether it be day or night. Which made him incredibly convinient for carrying letters, per say. However as much as people assured him that it was an ordinary owl, Light knew better. A nagging sense of having forgotten something engulfed him everytime he laid his eyes on Ryuk. There was a lot more to this owl than a strange desire for apples.

He met up with his father after finishing his shopping, smiling politely to make conversation, even as he thought about the concept of justice. They say that the law is blind, which was true, he knew. Countless criminals got free just like that, just because they had enough gold in their pockets. This repulsed him.

He knew the world was stagnated, he wanted to do something about that stagnation, hence his desire to become an Auror. He told himself that he would rid the world of criminals and make them pay for their atrocities, by becoming an Auror. His borderline fascination with Utopia didn't exactly help his mental state, which was swollen with praise and admiration.

He needed a kick, something to divert him, something to bring him back to reality.

That is where our story officially begins. Officially, as in the sense of events, for exposition can only suffice for so long.

The threat of Lord Voldemort was more than what the people had seen for a long time. Since his rise to public prominence five years ago, there had been a lot of bloodshed, Aurors, Muggles, Death Eaters dead here and there. It was incredibly frustrating for Light to not try to intervene, due to his sense of justice, but he held on.

As his father said, as long as Dumbledore was alive, they were relatively safe.

However, the man, Albus Dumbledore knew that this threat was more dangerous than what he could contain. Thus the reason for the boy sitting opposite to him, in a strange crouch, his wide black eyes intense, the bags under his eyes more prominent than ever. He had a ruffled appearance, messy black hair which stuck out in every single direction, and a customary white full-sleeved t-shirt and baggy jeans. His gaze was on the white haired, long beared old man in front of him, whose lack of a jovial smile meant that matters had gone terribly wrong.

"I assume that you know about the recent events?" Dumbledore began, without any further ado.

"I do," said the teenager, holding his cup of coffee.

"You have any leads?"

"As to his location? I do. His horcruxes? I do. I just need suitable men and protection, to launch my plan."

"I assume that I wouldn't be privy to it."

"If you were, then I would have been the one to call you, not the other way around. My question is, why do you want me to stay at Hogwarts to delay your original plan? We would be just letting him escape."

"I know. However, Lord Voldemort, is a tricky fellow. He has more trick up his sleeve than you can imagine."

"I can."

Ignoring him, Dumbledore continued, "Even if we manage to destroy his horcruxes, there is no way to kill him, to face him, to force him out into the open. It has been years since I had last seen his face and I know, for a fact, that after splitting his soul countless times he looks way different."

"Your point?"

"We have a notebook, which we are keeping here for security."

"You are hoping that someone I would manage to get to see his face, return alive and write his name? That's blasphemy, Dumbledore, ask Severus Snape to do it. He knows how he looks, doesn't he?"

"That's where the problem lies."

"You don't mean—"

"Yes, L, Severus Snape is dead. He was found dead last night in the Whomping Willow."

A sombre silence fell. L couldn't hide the fact that he was shocked, he hadn't had this piece of information. Somewhere, it hurt, because he had known the man for a long time, and he had been particularly fond of him for some reason and gave him Potion tutions as well. Now, knowing that he was dead, made him pause, his heart, mind and body, all three.

Dumbledore stroked his beard, but L knew that he was upset as well. Everyone at Hogwarts was. No matter how much they might have disliked the man, he had been a constant presence in their lives, a fixture, which never changed. Now, hearing that he was gone.......

"I believe that you would want to attend his funeral?"

"Yes, please," L found himself saying, despite himself.

Dumbledore smiled weakly, but L's attention was on his left hand, which looked burnt and dead. If his research of spells wasn't wrong, then........

"I see," he mumbled.

Dumbledore smiled, some of his old twinkle returning back to his eyes.

"So.... that's why.....but, how do you—"

"I plan to train you. You, and another person. I believe that the name isn't foreign to you, with your extensive knowledge of people, L."

"Who is it?"

"Light Yagami."

"Oh. Slytherin Prefect, half-blood highest scorer in OWLs, after Tom Riddle himself, aspiring Auror, father, Sourichiro Yagami is the head of the Auror Department, has a sister, Sayu Yagami, who is starting her first year at Hogwarts this year, mother Sachiko Yagami, Muggle, teacher."

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling as L rattled off the information.

"A lemon drop, my dear boy?"

"Sure, Watari."

His use of that particular nickname seemed to greatly amuse the older man even as the atmosphere hadn't really changed that much from the revelation of Snape's decease. 

Don't worry Professor. You shall be avenged.