Disclaimer: J.K owns Harry Potter, DC comics owns Batman and Arkham City.

Author's Note: So many stories like this come and go, so I decided, to hell with it, I'll write it myself! Oh, and there will be no slash. Sorry yaoi fans, it's just not my cup of tea.

"Good evening, Mr. Wayne," a voice sounded, rousing the black haired man back to consciousness. Blue eyes fluttered as they looked around; taking in every detail of the room he was in. "It will do you no good, there is not escape," the man's voice said again. It was rough like sandpaper, but even then, the man chained to the hard steel chair recognized it.

"Strange," Bruce Wayne muttered, his eyes narrowing at the shadows. A bald man with a thick black beard stepped into the light wearing a white lab coat. Bruce could see his reflection in the man's glasses, revealing a livid bruise on the side of the billionaires face. "I should have known you had a hand in this."

"Oh yes, you could say, this entire project was my idea," Professor Hugo Strange said with a smile as he steepled his fingers against each other. "Arkham City is a bedlam of Gotham's most violent and twisted minds all in one place. There is no better way to study ones hobbies then to see them in their natural environment, Mr. Wayne," the Professor and former Arkham Psychologist said. "Though, I must thank you, Bruce Wayne is much easier to capture than Batman."

'He knows,' Bruce thought as he kept his stony gaze on the madman before him. "You'll never get away with this strange, whatever it is your planning, I'll see that it's stopped," he growled, his voice deepening as it did when he donned the suit of his alter ego.

"Oh, please try," Strange said, accepting the challenge. "However, will you be able to stop my most recent experiment?" With a smile the deranged psychologist moved to the side, revealing a television. On the screen was a small, underfed boy with messy black hair, his arms wrapped around his knees as he shivered in clothes far too large for his body.

Bruce froze as he spotted the child who couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old, locked away with murderers and rapists without any authority figures to protect him. With a savage howl he rushed against his chains, struggling to get at the man who would do something like that. "STRANGE! He's a kid, let him go! Who knows what those sick monsters will do to someone like that out there!"

"Tut tut, Mr. Wayne, you shouldn't stress yourself so soon," the mad doctor said. "You see, I've studied you. From the moment of your parent's deaths to the present day, I've read your history and analyzed you for the past, how many years has it been exactly? I wanted to be you Wayne, to become Batman in your place. However, we both know that would never happen, so what if I tried to create my own Batman?"

Reaching into his pocket, Strange ignored Bruce's struggles as he produced a remote and zoomed in on the child. "Meet one Harry James Potter, who just today celebrated his eighth birthday with the news of his parents' brutal murder at the age of one. He was left with his aunt and uncle, emotionally and mentally abused, starved, and living in a cupboard in his relative's home," Strange said as though merely commenting on a fascinating bug specimen. "I wondered, if you with the support of your dear butler could rise from the ashes of your parents' murder to become Batman, what would happen to him, if left in Arkham City?"

"I take it back Strange," Bruce growled through gritted teeth. "You aren't some deranged lunatic." The words seemed to surprise Strange who looked at the owner of Wayne Enterprises with intrigue. "You're a fucking monster."

"Now now, we'll have none of that," Strange said as movement on the television caught his eye."Well, it seems our unknowing specimen has his first visitor," he said with a chuckle. Bruce's blue eyes shot to the screen, where he nearly sighed with relief. A woman with green skin and red hair was talking toward the boy, dressed in green panties and a red form fitting shirt. "Ah, Miss. Isley, how unexpected," Strange muttered in annoyance.

Bruce nearly grinned, if anyone in Arkham City would keep a child from danger, it was Poison Ivy. He had watched her take care of orphans before, when Gotham had nearly been destroyed by an earthquake. With any luck, that long dormant mothering instinct would rise up in her yet again to protect the child.

"Well, I see no reason to drag this out longer than it needs to," Strange said as he turned his back completely on the chained figure. "The guards will be escorting you to Arkham City, Mr. Wayne. I do hope you won't disappoint me or my benefactors," the man said as he tilted his head to the side as the red head and raven haired boy grew closer to one another.

Just as Bruce was about to speak, he felt something hard strike the back of his head, and groaned as his vision grew black.

Poison Ivy was in a foul mood as she daintily crossed the ruined streets of the makeshift 'city'. The air was toxic and had already killed all but her strongest babies. Even they were suffering though from the harsh winter. She had heard some of Penguin's goons blaming Freeze for the cold, which she knew was absurd. True, the frost biting temperatures were the fault of man, but not A man. It had annoyed the red headed woman so much she had poisoned the idiot without giving it much thought, sending a message to the Penguin at the same time that she was not to be disturbed.

She was currently on her way back to the hotel she and her plants had taken over when she spotted a youth hugging its knees off to the side of the road. 'Who would release a child into this place,' she thought in disgust. After the accident that allowed her to raise and commune with plants she had discovered the horrible trade off. At the time she had no control over the poisons in her system and would kill anyone she touched not that it mattered since she had been made barren. Gone were her chances of a normal life and family, but still she longed for a child of her own.

"Well, looky here," a man's voice broke the night's muted silence. The sound of boots on pavement echoed from a nearby alleyway before a man dressed in a red jumpsuit from Blackgate emerged. His face was rough, scarred by numerous scratches, but a sick grin spread across his face. "A new little bitch to keep my bed warm," the blond haired man said with a grin as his hazel eyes locked onto the boy, who suddenly looked up in alarm.

Pamela Isley froze as she spotted the nearly luminous green eyes the boy possessed. They were bright with fear but still the kid made no attempt to move. For a second she couldn't move, and the world seemed to fall away as she gazed at the youth, his face gaunt from what appeared to be starvation and terror. Her lips formed a snarl before she raised one dainty green hued hand and pointed at the guy. She said nothing, instead allowing the sea weed that exploded from the nearby bay to talk for her as it wrapped around the pedophiles neck, arms and legs and dragged him kicking and screaming into the freezing waters.

"Are you alright," her soft voice called out. The kid looked up at her in fear and immediately covered his head and face with his arms. Her green eyes narrowed at the motion, recognizing it as learned self protection, after all limbs could be mended, but the brain and vital organs, not so much."Hush now, I won't hurt you," she said softly as she continued to walk toward him. Slowly he moved his head to peek at her before she knelt down in front of him. "My names Pamela," she introduced herself.

"Harry," he said quietly, his green eyes wide with awe that someone could be kind to him. "Harry Potter," he finished. His little English accent was cute, Pamela decided as she reached out toward him, her hand losing its green tone and taking on the look of tanned flesh as she pulled the toxins back from her epidermis. Gently she ran her fingers through is hair.

"Well, Harry how would you like to come with me and get out of this snow," she offered. She smiled when the young boy grinned sheepishly and nodded. Standing again, she gently took his hand in hers and pulled him up from the cold ground. "I live in a hotel nearby," she said before pointing to the ruins of an old building with huge vines running through smashed windows and a giant flower bulb on top. "We'll get you something to eat and a hot bath, I don't want you getting sick and spreading it to my flowers," she explained.

"I can help you with your flowers," Harry said quietly, as though unused to how to really speak. In truth, he was never really allowed to speak around his aunt and uncle. It was only recently he had started muttering under his breath and by the time he would have turned eleven, his sarcasm would have been well known within Number 4 Privet Drive. "I used to tend to my aunt's garden back home."

Ivy smiled but only on the outside. A few kind words and the boy was practically putty in her hands. Just how bad had his life been when something as thoughtless as a kind act would cause him to open up and trust? As they neared a broken bridge, one of the vines around the old hotel stretched out to welcome them. It was so thick that they could both stand on it without fear of falling as it pulled them around the side of the building to a cast iron walkway that was fenced off.

Harry could see some men in various suits walking around, mumbling about 'Ivy' and how they would always love her, before he and the woman were being lifted through a trap door into a caged off portion of walkway that lead to the door."Home sweet home," the red headed woman said causing Harry to look at her in surprise before she led him to the single door leading into the building.

The inside lobby was huge with huge chunks missing from the floor to lead to lower levels. Plants and pods crisscrossed the walls and the flowers seemed to turn and watch the two walk through the room. "This is my home for now," Pamela said with a soft smile down at Harry as she walked toward the back of the room. The plants draping the wall shifted like curtains and revealed one the hotel room Pamela was using as her private quarters."Now, what do you want to do first? Do you want to take a bath or eat?"

The answer came, much to the boy's embarrassment from his stomach as it gurgled loudly. "I'd like to eat please," he said as his face blushed crimson and the red headed woman laughed.

Author's Note: Unlike my other stories, I will not be asking for reviews to continue this. I'm going to continue this because I really do like both worlds this story fuses. However, constructive criticism is always appreciated, and just good old fashioned one-liners are welcome as well. This won't be a very long story, maybe just a prologue to a future story since the events of Arkham City happened in one night so this story will cover a single night as well. I'm thinking Harry Potter: Arkham City should be followed by Harry Potter: Gotham City.