I do not own anything, and never will. Harry Potter and his world belong to J.K. Rowling, a woman I resprect and adore without having to know. Teen Titans is property of some corporation, and they're okay I guess.

'Twas bored, and started to write a couple of hours ago. In my head it's already a fully feldged story, but right now it's just a teaser. This might be a rather odd way to take these two worlds to mash together, but that's just how I am. I wanted to do a little mystery, a little romance and lot of drama. This story takes place in book five, the Order of the Pheonix. Those Marauders that are still alive are in their mid-thirties, the golden trio are around fifteen, and our dear Raven has just survived her sixteenth birthday. I choose this time because all the people I love are still alive - Fred, Dumbledore, and you Sirius, whom I have always loved. If this carries on, The HP universe will be the main setting because it's so full of magic.


Present, Titan's Tower, 10pm

Outside the metal structure, christened Titan's Tower by it's inhabitants, nature had finally quietened after a long day. The waves that had burst onto the rocky shore with violent passion had subsided to mere memories of themselves and wind was non-existent, unusual for this time of year. Even the stars were hushed, as if they were waiting for some great announcement to arrive at any moment, set to change the course of life underneath them forever.

Inside the tower they hung over, in a dimly lit bedroom, a young woman thumbed the pages of an old book. She was alone, as was usual. Her friends were settling down to pizza and movies without her, having given up on Raven joining them tonight. They had learnt the probability she would want to 'hang out' with them on a Friday was not high, so they wern't all that shocked. If they had glimpsed her reading they might have said she appeared perfectly normal (for Raven), unless they looked close enough to notice the burning focus behind her eyes or the stiff frame of her back.

The first way in which male demon go about impregnating the female human is the same as with the male of the human species (page 137) However there have been times when this has seemed impossible - most notably, when the female human is already pregnant.

Raven paused for a moment, disgust paralyzing her progress, before she managed to overcome it and continue reading. Her ability to cope with horror had grown in thanks to her father's attempted take-over of earth not a few months earlier. It was that very event which sparked her intrest in literature dealing with demons, perhaps in attempt to understand and contain her darker side so she would never become his true kin. So far this particular book had been helpful. It contained a chapter on half-demons, which she was just getting around to when the chapter title 'Siring the spawn' caught her eye.

The male demon will not even notice the difference. Once he has choosen to create a child blended of his and the female humans DNA, that is that. However, in these cases when the woman is already with child, theres are not the only DNA involved. Instead of fertilizing the egg, the sperm acts like a virus, infecting the already existing zygote in the womb. The child born will still be half-demon, indistringuishable from their more traditionally spawned counter-part except that they will still contain traites from itheir original fathers. It is often said that these children have three parents-

The aggression with which her eyes raked the page was at odds with the delicate way she held the tome, as if it were a baby bird with a broken wing. She had found it by chance in one of the book stores she liked to frequent, in the very back of the shop where some of the more questionable tomes were kept. At first it had seemed like a collectors item, until the clerk had seen her looking at it and laughed. It was either some sort of joke, or the work of a madman, he'd said. "It's about demons for christsakes!"

She bought it immediatly, spending more money than she'd spent on the Titan's christmas presents last year put together. She'd skimmed the first few pages, and if she hadn't been sure the author didn't know what they were talking about, she wouldn't have taken it. But on the very first page it talked about the powers of higher-level demons, and mentioned of lot of her very own talents. She couldn't resist.

It turned out the 'Demon Lore' was some kind of case study compleated by a non-demon who was fascinated to the point of obsession with them. The book enthused over such things as Demon hirachies while glossing over human dealths as if they were justified. It was as uncomfortable to read as Mein Kamf, and if Robin found it she'd have some serious explaining to do.

The half-breed child whose DNA has been hijacked cannot be seperated from it's demon side. Their powers and Demonic heritage are a perminately a part of them. The only differences, we must keep in mind, are based on evidence purely anecdotal. The most frequently observed difference is that they pocess more human qualities, such a remorse and guilt, than traditional half-demons.

"Raven!" Her leader called, trying one last time to engage her. She glanced up briefly, her eyes swivelling to the door but then she dropped them back to her book without replying. The words swum before her eyes: It is almost as if these children have three parents.

Raven let the book fall shut, emitting a dust cloud. Her mind was numb with possibilities, with hope she'd never dared let grip her before. She wondered if...

..they pocess more human qualities...

If there was one thing Raven prided herself on, it was her compassion for humans. She loved humans in a way a man like her father could not even begin to understand. She'd never killed, or felt the real urge to kill, a human in all her life.

Yet it couldn't be possible. She was just fantasasing, something she'd banned herself from since childhood. However this time she couldn't stop her mind from racing. What if she were one of the children who had three parents? What if there was more to her than her uncaring wench of a mother and her murderous fiend of a father? What if, by some miracle, Arella had already been pregnant when the demon had raped her?

There could be someone else out there with a connection to her, however tenous.

Raven sighed and shook her head. It was just a fantasy. Just a foolish wish.

It was only ten pm, but she couldn't bring herself to go out and join her friends, nor would she feed her hope by reading on. With no other options she slipped into bed, feeling as if her bones were made of sponge. This proved the worst idea yet - she lay on her side, staring out the window, wondering if she should write to her mother. She even started drafting one in her head but no matter how she tried, she couldn't find a different combination of 'Were you pregnant when my dad raped you?' that didn't sound suspicious. Besides, she didn't want to have anymore contact with the mother who had abandoned her anyway.

Forget about it, she told herself sternly. You're not that lucky.


17 years previous, London, 10pm

Angela Roth stepped off the train and looked around, a sinking feeling entering her stomach. Now what?

Night was falling and she had no where to stay, no money and most importantly, no coat. Running away from her her grandparents house had seemed smart, but now she wasn't so sure. She started to think of places she knew in London when people shoved past her. She realised then that she'd been blocking the exit out of the station.

Ignoring the dirty looks she received from passangers who deemed a ten second wait unnaceptable, she headed outside into the street and stood on the corner, looking around at the lights. She wanted to head to town, into some warm pub and drown everything out. Goosebumps rose up on her shoulers and legs.

"Alright love?" a grinning man across the street called out to her. His friends laughed and one punched him lightly on the arm. They were okay looking, Angela guessed.

She checked for traffic and strode across the road to them. The man took a step back in surprise.

"I'm fine." She said conversationally, once she reached them. "Why do you ask?"

She hadn't planned to run away. It was just, the nagging had finally gotten to her and she couldn't stand it any longer. Angela, why don't you take more intrest in sports? Angela, why did you drop maths without telling us? Angela, we can't look after you forever! Angela, you're seventeen, what are you going to do with your life? At home they more or less let her be, but every 'holiday' to visit her grandparents the nagging became worse and worse. Her grandmother enjoyed high teas, and her grandfather, smoozing. Their granddaughter was nothing like the young lady they expected, and that embarassed her parents.

"Uh, we were just going to a club opening. We wonder if you'd like to come with us?" The man said, dropping the cave man act. Angela smirked and linked her arm through the stranger's.

A little bit of dancing never hurt anyone, she thought. Besides, it would be warm in the club and she had no where else to go.

"Lead the way." She called out, grateful for the company. The mans friends, dumb-founded, did as she asked and were soon laughing with each other once again.

Those who found Angela's style of making friends too forward wern't the kind of people she ever wanted to be friends with anyway. She had no gift for anything except flirting and partying, and she always thought it would be a shame to let them go to waste. Despite what everyone said, she found her behavior never got her into trouble. Sure, drunk guys would get a little too friendly, but if she didn't feel like it, she got away. Any brushes with the law never came to much, and were just something to laugh about later with school friends in on the joke.

Tonight however, she had struck out. Angela found the men boring and even after a few drinks, very average looking. She slipped away into the street when they wern't looking and carried on towards the pub. Her short dress wasn't any warmer, but the alcohol had numbed her to the cold already. She spotted a group of men walking towards her, one of them stunning to look at. He smiled at her, and she felt uncharisticly nervous all of a sudden. Her heel caught on a cobblestone and she tripped, falling very slowly. There was a loud popping sound, and suddenly she was caught by one of the other men.

"Nice one Moony!" The beautiful man chortled. Angela thanked her rescuer, wondering in her drunken state how he had gotten from over there, to over here, so quickly.

"Thatss a very interesting name you have." She told him, leaning close for warmth. Moony's eyes were a little out of focus. He smiled.

"That's a very interesting accent you got." One of the other men retorted. He was dark-haired, like Angela, with glasses and pale blue eyes. Angela stuck her hands on her hips playfully.

"It's American, and what would your name be?"

The man grinned and sank into an exagerated bow.

"My name, is Prongs. This here on my right is my friend Padfoot, and if you look to my other right, you will see my friend wormtail."

Angela hadn't noticed the other man, who was squat and beedy eyed. She didn't particularly want to notice him either.

"I'm Angela." She introduced herself, still holding onto Moony for balance.

"Well Angela," Padfoot said, smiling the most charming smile she'd seen in months. "Where are you off to, all alone?"

They were all very drunk, but it didn't matter. When drunk people get together, they seem to exist in a world similar to that of children, and right now the five of them seemed as if they were mimicing conversations they'd seen in the world of adults.

"I don't know." Angela sniffed. Padfoot was next to her immediately.

"Well then come with us. We're having ourselves a little engagement party."

"Where's the bride?" Angela asked.

"There's no bride yet." Moony said jovialy. "Not until Prongs gets the courage to ask her."

"Tomorrow I said!" Prongs shoved Moony, a little too hard, causing him to fall. Without his support Angela stumbled. They all laughed. The drunk could find humor in a brick wall, so this was side splitting.

"Lets go." Padfoot grinned, wiping tears from his eyes. "You Angela, are cordially invited along to boy's night."

She linked one arm through his, and the other through the arm of the man named Prongs, just as she had with the previous stranger. She had a good feeling about these boys though. They were a little older than her, but that never mattered before, why should it now? They set off down the road, Prongs and Padfoot singing songs with funny words like 'Grindlewald' and 'Hufflepuff'.

The next morning Angela woke up with a splitting headache. She couldn't remember a thing, except for a curious drink named Firewhiskey that had knocked her off her feet. She crept out of bed so as not to wake the sleeping man next to her, and grabbed her clothes off the floor. She smirked as she put them on. Her friends would piss themselves when she told them about this adventure. She only wished she could remember the whole thing - they must have taken something stronger than marijuana.

Without saying goodbye she walked out of the hotel room and out onto the street, headed back towards the train station. It was time to meet her parents furious gazes, as she always did. She was getting tired of running away and coming back, and decided never to do it again, even beleiving herself for a second. As she walked People glared at her crumbled dress and her bare feet – she carried her heels in her hand. She did not regret any of her one-night stands and she loved her walks of shame. Attention from old angry old biddy's was the best kind. She lifted her chin and smiled sweetly back, with her chest pushed out and memories of the man's touch on her skin.

Angela felt invinsible.

She did not know that in less than a month, all the trouble she'd amanaged to avoid would catch up to her.


So there you have it. If you want more, let me know. If not... well, FINE.