Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, and both Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata respectively as well as various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc., Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, and Viz Media respectively. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. So in short, don't sue me. It'd cost more in legal fees than you'd actually get, considering I own nothing. Oh I also don't own Oprah (or I'd be ruler of the universe by now) nor do I own Narita International Airport or most anything else you might recognize.

Summary: Fate laughs at probabilities. L's a man of probabilities and Harry has always been fate's fool. Savior meets Sleuth in the pursuit of Kira but is justice all they'll find? Does fate have other plans? The probability of finding love in a murder case just went up and even L couldn't see these odds. When a heart broken Harry Potter decides to escape his life and the drama fate sent his way he never expected this. In Japan his curiosity is peaked and once again circumstances drag him into yet another mystery. Though determined to stay out of it, things get personal and his saving-people instincts come into play. Questions will run rampant. Who is this mysterious vigilante who calls himself Kira? How is he killing people? Is magic involved? What was that odd creature he saw floating around the tennis court, why did the deathly hallows react to it, and why did it seem to recognize him? What's a Death Note? Just who is this mysterious L? What is the probability of finding love in a murder investigation?

Authors Note: This is a Harry Potter/Death Note crossover, as I'm sure you've surmised. It mostly follows canon events in Harry Potter but disregards the epilogue. It's also based on Death Note events as per the Anime (the English dub specifically) as that's the one I've re-watched most recently. The story itself takes place about 6 years after the final battle and right after Light kills Lind L Tailor. Surprisingly enough the actual time lines of both Harry Potter and Death Note (the manga time line) coincide very well for my purposes. It's a Harry/L pairing, but it's going to take awhile to develop as I don't believe in love at first sight. Hmm.. I suppose the only other thing I have to note on is that Harry is 23 in this story and as such, is not exactly the same person as he was at 17, that's NOT to say he's not the same core person but I do believe there's room for character development. So if he has a few quirks here or there or does something out of character remember there are 6 years worth of events that could explain it.

Warnings: There will most likely be spoilers for all seven Harry Potter books (mostly the seventh) and for Death Note the Anime up to season 2 episode 6 because as far as I'm concerned Death Note ended when L did, that's not to say I didn't watch the rest, I did and immediately wished I hadn't. No offense to the successors but they just seemed like filler, dragging on the show because anime's can never just end with dignity. The show was supposed to be Kira vs L bringing in the rest of the alphabet just seemed like overkill, but alas I digress. If your reading fan fiction for either you really should go finish the originals first. Moving on... this is Slash, shōnen-ai, man/man, homosexual love. It's not going to be horribly graphic or anything (it is rated T not M after all) but I know that it can offend or just not interest some people. If your one of these people you probably wont like this story. There may or may not be character death, it's half Death Note so do note the death part of that title. Well you've been warned. I've never actually been flamed before and I have no real reason to expect to be. But if I do somehow incur your literary wrath feel free to express it through reviews, it'll up my review count and give me something laugh about.

"Deathly Hallows, Death Notes, Saviors, and Sleuths"

By Pink Bismuth

Chapter One: Airports, Articles, and Introspection

"You call it avoidance, I call it vacation." -J.M.B.-

The airport was a bustle with life as people rushed back and forth through the terminals, making their way to destinations unknown. It was noisy, crowded, and altogether unpleasant as the travelers tried their best to get as far away from each other as fast as they possibly could.

There was an easily distracted couple who were completely oblivious to the people behind them. They found themselves inexplicably unable to navigate through the airport without stopping every five seconds to either; check their tickets, figure out where they were going, or to just plain ogle the shops.

Their stop and go traffic disrupted the path of an overly perfumed granny behind them. It ensued in a very impassioned scolding on being considerate of others. This, in turn proved rather hypocritical of her as the noxious fumes she drowned herself in, in an attempt to cut through the sweat sock smell of the unwashed masses, assaulted the sinuses of the man next to her, resulting in a sneezing fit.

And of course said Sneezer did not cover his mouth. Which then elicited a suspicious glare from the mother to his left; dragging a seemingly demonically possessed child who was screaming at the top of his lungs, securely in tow.

Glaring contemptuously at them all was a very self-involved business man as he shouted into his cell phone. It seemed his current state of business was making sure they all knew just how much more important his time was as compared to theirs.

Yes indeed you see many different kinds of people at the airport. All sharing that urgent need to get where they are going in a hurry, usually bypassing common courtesy to do so.

Yet one young man seemed perfectly content to sit in a shadowy corner of an airport café, gazing out the nearby windows, simply observing these mundane proceedings. He watched with faint amusement as the traveling victims; who had long suffered copious amounts of time confined to cramped airplane seats, blinded by horrible fluorescent lighting, and tortured by baggage lines that never seemed to end, flitted around like chickens with their heads cut off. Currently his verdant eyes were alight with humor, highly entertained as he watched some of the wackier antics of the previously mentioned devil child.

It would appear that the boy had zeroed in on the business man almost immediately after he and his mother had entered the café. The little hellion then proceeded to taunt the man as his mother ordered her coffee. Well one thing lead to another; the next thing you knew, they were both engrossed in an oddly epic stare down. It ended with the little anti-Christ kicking the man in the shin.

This sent the observer into barely suppressed laughter which only grew louder when the mother turned around. Seeing the business man insulting her son, who had suddenly taken it upon himself to look as innocent as possible; she instantly got into protective mother mode. She threatened him with the dreaded 'airport security'. The poor fool never stood a chance.

Once they cleared out though, the man went back to his coffee and couldn't suppress a sigh as he focused his attention on the newspaper in front of him. He had previously discarded it in lieu of the far more amusing pastime of people watching. To the average eye it appeared to be the day's edition of "The Times". To the owner however, the title read "The Daily Prophet" and instead of an article on the latest medical scare in the UK, his eyes beheld quite a different headline.

"The Man-Who-Vanquished Leaves Britain: Vacation or Immigration?"

By Romilda Vane

Wizarding Britain has been recently shaken by the sudden departure of prodigy Auror Harry Potter also known as The Man-Who-Vanquished. Sources indicate that Mr. Potter has taken an indefinite leave of absence from his job for "personal reasons" that are, as of yet, not stated. When asked Head Auror Thomas Proudfoot owned up to being an Auror short and claimed "I've no doubt Potter will be back when he's through with his business, he's not quitting just taking some time off...". In search of further answers I questioned the remaining two thirds of the Golden Trio. They couldn't be pressed to reveal more than: he's out of the country for personal reasons and asks that we respect his right to privacy. Though no one seems willing to own up to these "personal reason", this reporter thinks the reasons are pretty obvious; when one considers the recent scandal involving he and his now ex- fiancé Oliver Wood, Keeper for Puddlemere United.

For those of you who have been living under a rock for the pass few years, let me enlighten you as to the unfortunate events that have led to the wreckage of our favorite hero's love life. Wood and Potter first met at Hogwarts, playing together on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Wood the Captain and Keeper, Potter the star Seeker. But alas their four year age difference prevented anything more than friendship at the time. They met again at the Battle of Hogwarts, Wood was even seen talking with Potter in the aftermath but again circumstances prevented any romance. Finally, after three long years they met once again, at a celebrity Quidditch match for charity. They were on separate teams, Potter won his team the match and instead of the usual explosive reaction that we've come to expect of Puddlemere's competitive Keeker we observed Oliver's very public request for a date. Potter never displaying an interest in men previously and seeming not at all impressed with the overly showy demand, had refused. However after a quite a bit of time and quite a few rejections he finally wore Potter down.

It was official, Harry Potter was Bisexual fan-girls and fan-boys alike could rejoice, until they realized he was taken, then came the despair (and oh how we despaired!). It was about a year into their whirlwind romance when Wood was fatally injured during a Quiddatch match and immediately sent to Saint Mungos for intensive treatment. He pulled through and it was by his sick bed that Potter proposed to the recovering Oliver. He of course said yes and after a year long engagement, the date was set for May of this coming year. Apparently the old saying "Marry in the month of May, and you'll surely rue the day." applies also to merely planning to do so in this case. To further understand one need only remember the scandalous happenings at this year's Quidditch World Cup.

It was England vs. Bulgaria and happily England took the cup; sadly for Potter, Zacharias Smith took the Keeper. The second the game was over, likely elated from winning Oliver Wood took no discretion in sucking face with Smith on the field for all the world to see! Potter was of course devastated to find his fiancé two-timing on the pitch, only worsened by whom it was with. Smith is, without a doubt, one of the most vocal of Harry Potter's critics; his articles, reminiscent of the past works of Rita Skeeter, are well known for their vitriol for the vanquisher. Predictably an argument broke out. It ended with Smith being set on fire, Wood fighting off a bat-bogey hex, one reporter with a broken nose, and one hero with a broken heart. (For a more detailed account see page 4)

Suffice to say the engagement was off. After this emotional event we hadn't seen much of our favorite hero. But it was reported by inside ministry sources that Potter chose to increase his workload. Being a notorious workaholic it hadn't warranted any concern at the time. It was only after his collapsing of exhaustion, while on the job, that the worrying set-in. Fan-girls everywhere (this reporter included) were inconsolable! He was briefly hospitalized at Saint Mungos which was followed by his current disappearance.

Potter's aversion to attention is very well-known and the public interest in his very messy break up has obviously unsettled him greatly. It would appear that he has found a way to rectify this issue. If you can't stop them runaway from them! But really, is it any wonder he left? No, indeed I think we can all agree our hero needs a vacation. The question is however, is it really a vacation or something a little more permanent? (For more details see page 5)

Eyes narrowed, he crumpled up the paper and tossed it angrily into the nearby trash bin. The person at the table next to his sent him a wary glance which caused his sudden irritation to irrationally increase. Nevertheless he sat back down and tried in vain to enjoy what was left of his now cold coffee.

This article had greatly annoyed the man for several reasons. One was it's inaccuracy on several details, two was it's obvious gossip angle, three was the clear indication that the mentioned request for privacy was not going to be fulfilled, and lastly was the fact that it was all about him, which made it all very personal.

Harry Potter was sitting in a café in Narita International Airport reading this article and wondering if Japan really was far enough from England or if he should give New Zealand a shot.* Shaking his head wearily and sighing, he admitted to himself that, no even New Zealand wouldn't be far enough. Realizing this he tried to comfort himself with the fact that they probably wouldn't expect him to visit a non-English speaking country.

He had little doubt that those vulture reporters and his rabid fans would search for him. No, they couldn't just leave him alone. They might miss something important, he could tie his shoe laces or go to the grocery store! How could they be expected to miss such vital moments? What if something even remotely interesting happens and they're not there to document it? After all, they have every right to know and obsess over every little detail of his personal life. Saving them all from an evil Dark Lord and continuing to keep them safe as an Auror didn't entitle him to any kind of privacy. Privacy shmivacy!

Thinking and mentally ranting about the unfairness of it all, his thoughts drifted back to the article he just read. It and the many others like it, were all rather unpleasant reminders of all the crap he really didn't want to think about. Letting out a frustrated sigh he allowed his head to drop and hit the table with an audible "thunk!", wincing minutely. Great now he'd have a headache to top it all off.

'Honestly! How's it any of their business what my personal reasons are,' he questioned himself angrily, snorting derisively. "Whirlwind romance," he muttered disgustedly, shaking his head. He and Oliver had been together for two years before they were engaged; he hardly considered that a whirlwind!

"I didn't mean to set that bastard on fire," he continued muttering. Sure the man deserved it, and looking back his girly screams were kind of funny but that didn't mean Harry did it on purpose. No accidental magic, no matter how uncommon in adult wizards, did happen under times of extreme emotional distress. Seeing the person you'd planned to spend the rest of your life with; playing tonsil hockey on the Quidditch pitch, with someone who constantly takes delight in publicly tearing you apart, was just one of those times.

'Really now! They make me sound like a bloody lunatic, so I lost my temper, who wouldn't?' Harry asked himself.

He hadn't believed it at first, thought he was imagining it, or had seen it wrong. For a few minutes he tried to rationalize it, come up with some excuse for why Oliver was kissing another man. He had even tried to convince himself that Oliver hadn't kissed that bastard back, for it wasn't Oliver, as the paper reported that had initiated the kiss.

But Harry couldn't fool himself; and the guilty, frozen, 'dear caught in the head lights' look Oliver had sent him afterward left no room for doubt. He should have seen it coming really, they had been growing distant, their relationship had become strained but he had just never imagined Oliver would ever cheat on him. But he did and after his brain finally caught up with this fact he was burning with red hot anger and betrayal. His ears had been ringing and he was clenching his fists so tightly he had been sure they'd bleed. Not since the war had he felt that angry over anything, or that hurt.

He was going to leave, really he was. Harry had every intention of running out of that stadium, away from the frantic gossip hungry crowd, away from Oliver, and away from the whole situation. He really didn't think that a stadium full of people was quite the place to have the sort of conversation he had in mind. No the conversation he had in mind was best kept away from prying ears and within reach of a bottle of vodka and some castrating shears. But alas Harry's magic did not quite agree as it set about setting 'That Bastard' as Harry had come to refer to him, on fire of it's own volition.

Oh the media had a field day! Having dealt with the press before he probably could have downplayed the whole incident; but then Oliver just had to open his traitorous mouth. He went on a tirade of how the whole thing was Harry's fault for 'neglecting' him. That he couldn't put up with being 'The Harry Potter's' boyfriend anymore, and how dare he set Smith on fire. Harry lost his temper and called Oliver a slut, he responded in kind, calling him the one thing he knew would cut Harry the deepest.

"Better a slut than a freak!" even now, a month later, Harry winced at the remembrance of it.

He would never purposely hurt Oliver. But when that word came tumbling out of his mouth Harry was hexing him before he even knew what he was doing. Oliver was just lucky it was only a Bat-Bogey Hex. He knew exactly what that word meant to Harry. Sure he didn't know all the details, no one ever would if Harry had anything to say about it, but he did know a fair bit about Privet Drive and that particularly hated 'pet name'. It was like being dowsed in cold water and then electrocuted.

Looking back maybe he should have expected it. After all, that years Quidditch World Cup had been rescheduled. It took place on Halloween, of all days, and it seemed Fate would always be consistent with regards to Harry's luck on that day.

As always the reporters couldn't take a hint and just leave him alone. No they immediately swarmed him vying for an interview, statement, or picture, and well... He needed to get out of there and that reporter was standing in his way. He didn't mean to break his nose, all Harry was thinking about at the time was getting away from that crowd.

He later made it up to the guy. Harry gave him an autograph and a brief interview, under the agreement that he not press charges. Though with the man's hero worship it seemed unlikely that he would have. And even is he had it's doubtful they would have stuck, there were some perks to being the savior after all. He could probably get away with murder if he wanted to, a thought which made Harry cringe.

He had thought it was bad being the Boy-Who-Lived. Someone should have told him it was just practice for being the Man-Who-Vanquished. Harry sighed, everywhere he turned he was attacked with hyphenated names! That and the word 'The'. Harry hated the word 'The'; 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' The Harry Potter', 'The Man-Who-Vanquished', 'The Prodigy Auror'. He couldn't help but snort at that last one.

Prodigy. It was ridiculous. So he did well in training and got lucky on a few high profile cases, he hardly felt that made him a prodigy. Yes they promoted him to 4th in line for Head Auror but that was just for show. Just office politics and good politics nowadays were to suck up to him. Sure he was good at his job, but so were his colleges. He'd only been an Auror for about two-and-a-half years now, yet everyone expected him to be the next Mad-Eye Moody.

'No, they expect me to be the next Dumbledore,' Harry corrected himself gloomily, 'And they have the nerve to question my work ethics, they'd work hard too if they'd the same expectations of themselves as they do of me.'

He really didn't appreciate them calling him a 'Workaholic' when it was their crazy ideals of how he should be that drove him to it. He worked hard to keep the Wizarding Community safe what more did they want?

Try as he might Harry could never just not care about how the world saw him. Maybe it was years of trying to gain the Dursley's approval, or growing up with people who cared so much about outside appearances but that thirst to prove himself never completely went away.

'I was just dehydrated and tired, wasn't at Mungos for more than two days, just medi-witch smothering, everyone overreacting...,' he asserted as he flinched remembering Mrs. Weasley's reaction.

The second she heard he was at St. Mungos she rushed to his room and started crying, raving about how she always knew being an Auror was too dangerous. Mrs. Weasley had, of course, been expecting the worse, but even after she found out that it was just exhaustion she still insisted that he and Ron's chosen profession was far too dangerous.

Ron, for his part, tried to allay his mothers fears and stop her from hugging the life out of him. Harry could however, see how concerned Ron was as well. For whatever reason ever since Harry started dating Oliver he'd stared acting as this protective big brother to Harry. Ron had liked Oliver well enough, but apparently if Harry was going to date a man Ron was going to 'protect' him like he did Ginny. It was amusing, insulting and disturbing and Harry would often find himself struggling between laughing at or cursing Ron for it.

Ginny had shown up and gave him a real telling off for working too hard. They may not have been able to rekindle their old romance after the war but they still had a great friendship. He could always depend on her to tell him when he was being a self-sacrificing idiot. She could always depend on him to not treat her like some wimpy little princess. They both relied on each other to remind each other that they both had limits, a fault they seemed to share. Neither could admit weakness for their own reasons and were both stubborn to a fault.

It was Hermione's reaction that surprised him the most. He had expected a lecture, what he got was exasperation and acceptance. Apparently she had been expecting this, as unhappy about it as she was. She claimed it was what he always did when faced with emotional situations. Apparently instead of facing his emotions he kept them bottled up and tried to physically exhaust them by obsessing over something else, in this case work.

Harry wanted to argue with this assessment but when he attempted to she started rattling off examples of times he had done so in the past and well he just couldn't deny her logic. He hated it, but as always Hermione was right. She knew him better than he knew himself, which in retrospect wasn't that surprising since Hermione knew everything. She made him promise to take some time off work and he complied.

It's difficult to say just what Hermione had thought would come of his time off, but somehow Harry doubted this was what she had in mind. Two to three weeks into his sick leave he decided to quit his job and leave the country.

He'd laid around with nothing much to do which lead to introspection. This lead to depressive thoughts on where it all went wrong and general questioning of where his life was going at the moment.

Suddenly he just wasn't sure he wanted to be an Auror any longer. He'd fought his fight, hadn't he done his duty? Really he'd had quite enough of fighting. Before he never really put so much thought into his future as all he could see ahead of him was Voldemort. The choice of Auror had seemed the most sensible; had seemed interesting, generally appealing. But on further inspection he came to the startling realization that it wasn't what he wanted any more.

It was as if he just woke up one day and couldn't figure out how he'd gotten where he was. He was shocked to realize how little he enjoyed his life. All he'd ever done in life was try to survive, now he had the time and the resources to live whatever life he wanted. Harry came to a reckless and perhaps panic induced decision after that little epiphany.

So he went to his boss the next day and quit his job. Or at least he tried to anyways. Proudfoot refused to believe him when he said he wanted to quit.

"Quit! You can't quit, your just going through a rough patch right now," he said, "Just take some time to straighten out your head Potter your job'll be waiting.".

Although 'indefinite administrative' leave didn't sound quite so dramatic as quitting he supposed it worked, so long as he didn't have to go back. He was serious about quitting but everyone just kept insisting it was a 'career break' and this was all just a 'momentary life crisis'. When he told those closets to him of his intentions to leave Britain Hermione started tossing around phrases like "soul-searching" and "self-discovery", and quoting some some muggle named Oprah.

It was ridiculous. His life was ridiculous!

'Ugh! I shouldn't even be thinking about these things while sober,' Harry told himself morosely.

He raised his left hand up to run along his face, sighing tiredly as he pulled it away. His eyes automatically zeroing in on the silver ring sitting oh so innocently upon his ring finger.

The simple band was engraved with a heart clasped by two hands and surmounted by a crown; a small glass stone sat in the center of the heart, which was pointing away from him. Harry glared at it, he was wearing it wrong, he knew it, their engagement was over. He should move it back to his right hand or stop wearing it all together, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

Oliver had been so insistent on wearing Claddagh engagement rings** with mood stones attached. It was apparently all the vogue in magical Britain and unlike muggle mood stone, these ones actually operated on an empathic magical wavelength. As such, many couples connected their rings to the emotional wavelength of their significant others so that they could each know what the other was feeling. Normally it would display varying colors depending on Oliver's mood. Now it only showed black indicating that either Oliver was not wearing his or that he had severed their ring's connections.

What was wrong with him? Oliver had completely disregarded their relationship, regularly for six months, by cheating and was clearly over it. They were over, Harry had ended it himself, so why couldn't he just take the damn thing off? As always, instead of fixing it, Harry just looked away and shoved his hand in his pocket. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he determinedly pushed all these plaguing thoughts away.

'I need to cheer up! I'm in Japan for Merlin's sake! Away from all of... that, I can't just sit here and sulk all day. Ginny might somehow sense it and come all the way here just to kick my arse.' he told himself as he chuckled a bit uneasily not entirely sure if he was kidding or not. Nevertheless he got up, disposed of his coffee, and exited the café.

As he made his way through the crowd to the nearest apparition point, he came to find that people were not half so amusing when amongst them as they were when watching them. As such it was a rather disgruntled Harry that finally extricated himself from the herd.

He stepped through a metal detector no one else seemed to see, feeling the familiar tingle of magic as he passed through a barrier. On the other side was a pretty Asian witch in official looking robes with a badge that read "Narita Transportation Regulator". She smiled widely as she greeted him with a bubbly and well rehearsed sounding speech.

"Hello and welcome to Narita International Magical Transportation Station! My name's Keiko. How can I help you today?"

"Oh, um, hello. I er, just need to get to the apparition point" he answered in, near perfect Japanese, eying her oddly, slightly taken aback by the aggressively energetic greeting. He couldn't help but marvel at how well the translating charm worked. If he didn't know any better he'd have thought they were both speaking in English, for all it sounded that way to him. He rather disliked the itchiness it caused his throat, but he supposed he'd get used to it over time.

He nervously tugged on his bangs to cover his forehead. He needn't have bothered his scar was already covered with muggle makeup, but it had become a nervous habit of his over the years.

Harry was very glad he wasn't as famous in Japan as he was back home. It was one of the many reasons he had chosen to come here, as long as he kept his scar covered he didn't think he'd be recognized. He hated having to wear makeup, if Ron heard about it he'd never hear the end of it, but if all it took was a wound to his manly pride to blend in he'd gladly do so.

Unfazed by his apparent discomfort she lead him to the designated apparation point chatting animatedly about the sight seeing in magical Japan.

"- and you should check out the Koi Ponds in Kyoto, but be careful, there have been reports of Kappa's running a muck-"

"Actually, I'm going to be spending most of my time in the muggle parts of Japan, " Harry informed her, surprised anyone could talk as much or as fast as Hermione. She even seemed to have mastered the art of not needing to pause for breath. It was rather amusing and made him feel a bit at home.

"Oh? I've heard about some odd happenings going on in muggle Tokyo lately, there was some big secrecy scare over it," she said. She seemed excited to have someone to gossip to.

Genuinely curious Harry asked for more details, "Really? I hadn't heard, what was it about? Nothing serious I hope."

"Oh no, the papers have already confirmed it was a false alarm, apparently the muggles just found a new way to kill each other that just happened to resemble magic," she answered.

"There was some sort of heart attack epidemic amongst all these muggle criminals and they think it was caused by some sort of vigilante. A muggleborn friend of mine was just telling me all about it the other day. She went to visit her parents over the weekend and some guy was killed on those odd story portraits they have, you know those tel-o-vision boxy things that play stories on them..." she stopped as though afraid he might not know what she was talking about.

With an amused smile he nodded his head "I've heard of them," he confirmed never ceasing to be amused by the magical community's views on the Television. They always spoke of it, as though it were some obscure mythical artifact.

With a nod she continued, "Well anyway it caused this whole media frenzy they even gave the vigilante a name, I can't remember it now, started with a 'K' I think..." here she paused, tilting her head with a concentrated look on her face as she tried to remember.

Harry's curiosity was peaked. What could the muggles have invented to cause heart attacks that would make the ministry suspect magic?

He hadn't been in touch with most of the muggle world in a long time, besides Hermione's parents, with whom he visited and talked to on many occasions through Hermione and his cousin Dudley, with whom he'd created a tentative but friendly reconnection to. He knew he lacked knowledge in muggle technology but this seemed like something he'd have heard of, or at the very least Hermione would have.

'If one of the victims was on TV when they were killed, that would mean it was probably done from far away.' He couldn't imagine the vigilante getting away with it if they were nearby or recorded doing it. How could a vigilante, as in one person cause an epidemic of heart attacks? Just how many people had this person killed? How does one purposely induce a heart attack from a distance in a number of people? 'What brought the ministry's attention to it in the first place,' he questioned.

The gears in Harry's head were turning as he thought about the things he had just learned. She was pretty vague, he'd have to look into it, maybe he could pull some strings and get a copy of the ministry file... 'Wait! No! Stop right there Potter, you're on vacation, you are not an Auror now you're just here to relax!' he chided himself.

It was none of his business. How many times had he gotten himself into trouble because something mysterious caught his attention? No sir, not this time, this was his time off, his escape. He was not The Harry Potter here, he was just Harry and Harry was determined to keep it that way.

Over the years he had learned something very important about himself.

When he got interested in something he got involved and once involved his obsessive nature wouldn't let him rest until he figured it all out.

Harry was decidedly not going to give this mysterious vigilante case any thought, because if he did he knew somehow he would become involved in someway. Be it fate, circumstance, or by design; willingly or otherwise he'd get dragged into it and it would be the end of his relaxing vacation. Nope, he was not thinking about it, not at all.

He was drawn out of his 'not thinking' by that woman, Keiko he believed her name was. She shook herself out of her own thoughts and pointed at two stalls they stopped in front of.

The sign above one read "International Travel" and the other said "Other local".

"Well here you are, just enter the 'Other Local' stall," she stated, pointing to the booth on the left.

"Since you're going to a muggle populated area you'll need to apparate within the specified apparition points unless licensed to do otherwise, inside there's a map detailing where the apparition point nearest to where your destined location should be. We at Narita International, and on behalf of the Japanese Ministry for Magic, would like to thank you for your cooperation and hope you enjoy your stay," she finished off with a cheerful flourish, a polite bow and a wide smile.

"Thank you very much Keiko-san it's been nice meeting you," he said bowing back with grin as he as he entered the stall and disappeared with a quiet "Pop.".

Left on her own, blushing slightly, Keiko thought about the cute foreigner. He seemed so familiar. She just couldn't put her finger on it, but she'd seen him somewhere before. While trying to figure it out she realized he hadn't given her his name.

'That's too bad he was kinda cute, ah well he was probably taken anyways,' she lamented with a sigh. She than noticed someone vying for her assistance and just shrugged the whole thing off.

Hours later, Harry was getting settled in his hotel room and watching a news report on the same vigilante case he was not going to think about.

Authors Note: Well there we go the beginning of my story. What do you think? I think it's got potential but I fear my own opinion is biased and might be warped by fan-girl delusion. Should I continue? I probably will regardless but reassurance would be comforting.

*Points to anyone who gets the geographical reference to New Zealand.

**Claddagh ring's are traditional Irish rings which are very symbolic and can indicate your relationship status depending on how you wear them.

Right hand: Heart facing away from wearer = Single, Facing toward = In a relationship

Left hand: Heart facing away from wearer = Engaged, Heart facing toward = Married

They'll be mentioned and explained more, later in the story as well.

Well anyways, you should review and let me know what you think!