We left Nightwing as he was giving up and giving in to whomever was the stronger; Slade, the mage sorcerer who had pulled Harry Potter into the world where he became Richard Dick' Grayson, or Mait' Carrefour, the Petro loa who is the patron of magicians and night. Either way he'd be enslaved to a controlling, manipulative, and all around jerk who would freeze his growth, use him as a battery or an executioner, and could even turn him into a mindless robot. I know, I'm cruel and vile.

Should I tell you who won him? Or should I pull one of my evil things where I just tell the story and let you figure it out?

Yes, well...

Title: The Bridge Between Here and Beyond.

Author: P.L.S.

Rating: Mild to Medium Salsa

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Harry Potter, Teen Titans, or any of the DC Comics canon.

Summery: Harry Potter has been chained body and soul to his master for ten years. For him it has been a journey through a dark tunnel and now someone has opened up the other end and he can see the light. But that is no promise that he's going to get free.

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(End Chapter One- Waking Up)

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He woke up in the same dark chamber as he always did. The bed was sinfully soft, the black sheets were silk, the coverlet was just light enough but warm, the many pillows were down filled and comforting. Everything in the chamber was luxurious and sensually overwhelming. Every time he awoke in the room he was healed, still slightly suggestible due to whatever had been done, and divested of all garments. The room was sort of a no clothing zone, the gilded cage where he had to await his master.

No one but his master was allowed to even speak with him let alone touch him. He was cut off from all but his master or those who would soon die. Emotions and morals were things of the past, after all when could he ever use those. Memories were things that he had heard of. His life began in this room, it would end at his master's whim, there was nothing else.

He sat up, the room was made of dark grays and browns, long drapes that covered every bit of the walls. There were no doors, he could only get in and out by his master's power. It was how his life was set up, he'd wake up, slightly disorientated, waiting for God knows how long, seeing his master's face, getting his orders embedded into him through the bond he had with his master, then being left where his master wanted him, doing as he was ordered no matter the cost, then waking up again in the room. It never ended, the looks that were on their faces as he came for them, shrouded in shadows, robed in blackness. The called him many names; Death, Grim Reaper, Azreal, Angel of Death, Demon, Devil, Lucifer, Satan. He was their last sight, the final horror that gave them the mercy of death even if he was sent to bring them before his master.

He was pale, his eyes the same gemlike green that captivated hundreds before their deaths, his hair a curtain of blackness that draped to the middle of his back. The only imperfection on his person was the slight roughness of an ancient scar on his brow, but that was only by touch. He knew he was made to be this way, a lean picture of grace before his victims' screams for pity and mercy. It was a cruel thing that he hated with all his heart, that he was to look the way he did. He wanted imperfections, he wanted his reflection to mirror his actions.

He calmed down and took deep breaths. It never helped to get worked up over the fate that was given to him. No one could care less that he was unhappy, at least he wasn't the one who suffered for hours because his master was in that kind of mood.

I see you are awake. came his master's voice. He looked up to see the familiar form in the ivory and copper robes of the Head Sorcerer of the Council of Chaos and one of three World Controllers. The top part of his face was hidden within the hood of the topmost copper robe with the same mocking smile greeting him.

Yes, master. came his voice, meek under the hidden stare. He ducked his head and got off the bed as was expected.

as soon as that word was uttered the power started infusing itself within him, giving him the information needed for his newest quest, the face of his next victim, the task ordered, the punishment if he dared to think about failure. It was a deep seated hate that bubbled up now, just as it always did. There was just something fundamentally wrong with what his master was able to do to him. His master was always amused by this and he suspected that his master only did it to get the reaction.

I understand, master. he whispered. He was to tell a man to get his son ready for the sacrifice, then return after five sunsets and execute both father and son along with all the household. The holdings were to burn and the gold was to be forgotten. The name of the family was to vanish into history and all were to fear what had happened to them. It was something that was uncommon for his master to order, but it wasn't something one forgot how to do.

His master touched his lowered head and he was instantly robed in many layers of dark material and in his hands rested the same silver staff that he always used. His face was masked in silver and copper that only kept his eyes in the view of the rest of the world. Even his hands were hidden in black material. Shade, you will get your next task as soon as this is finished. came his master's voice as he thought over the significance of his clothes. He felt the hand on his head again and was now in a dark forest and his master was gone.

He lifted his eyes to look at the canopy and in between the branches he could see bright diamonds of starlight twinkling. Shade let out a breath, and then smelled the air. It was crisp, clean, and it touched something inside of him, some long forgotten instinct. A word that he thought he would never use came to mind; home. He was home and he was worried.

A twig snapped behind him. He twisted around to see a large serpent with an older man next to it. His staff changed into the scythe and he was in a battle stance before he could think. The man had a wand out and was also ready to fight in his fashion, the snake was hanging back hissing out Master, you are back!

Who do you call Master', serpent? asked Shade, hissing as the snake was hissing. The man looked gob smacked and the snake reared back as if it had been hit.

Don't you remember me? Your Peter. asked the snake now named Peter. Shade scowled under his mask.

No, I have no memories beyond my master and the tasks he gives me. Shade hissed, I could not be your master. I am only my master's slave. The snake passed the man who was looking very confused. It wrapped around Shade and gave him what was the snake's version of a hug. As he did something snapped into place, a link that he and the serpent had before he had been his master's. It was something he had never even contemplated, but the bond was proof that he had lived a life before his master and the dark room. It broke him in a way that he thought was long dead. Peter had grown up without him.

Shade was actually crying for the first time that he could remember, sobbing for all that he had lost when he had become the slave of his master, crying because he had to kill in this world that he knew in his heart was home. Peter just squeezed him tighter and hissed comforting words as Shade let out all the sadness, frustration, and anger from all the time that he had been Shade. He felt Peter ask for entry into his mind, seek out his memories and try to soothe him. Peter was trying to pull up good memories, but he couldn't find any in Shade's mind. In the end Peter eased some part of his mind to lull him into a warm sleep. It was the best the snake could do with so little to work with.

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Shade awoke in a bright room with white paneled walls and big open windows covered by sheer drapes that billowed about in the light wind that came in. The bed was not as big as the bed in the dark room, but it was just as soft and comfort filled. Everything in the room was light and created a feeling of hope that Shade had never felt before. His dark robes were hanging in an open wardrobe filled with multicolored robes and other garments, they were the only spot darkness in the light.

He sat up and saw that sitting next to him was a silver-blond man with a smile that he knew was just for him.

Hello, old friend. By what name do you go by today? asked the man in a cultured voice tinted by laughter. Shade couldn't help but want to know what his life was like before, if he was indeed friends with this man.

I am called Shade. Has Peter told you of what he saw of my mind? asked Shade and the man sighed.

Bryan, sorry, Shade, you know that only you can speak with that basilisk. Just because I and Severus spend time with you and Pete doesn't mean we'll ever be parselmouths like you are. Shade closed his eyes trying to understand the familiarity, the tone of the man's voice. Was the breed of snake that Peter was called Basilisk? What was a parselmouth? Who was Severus? Who was the young man? Then the implanted information for the mission came, the young man was the son he was sent to murder.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, Shade? Are you okay?

I don't know. whispered Shade as he felt tears come again. He felt human hands and arms slipping around him to gather his rather small frame to the warm body. It was a sensation that brought forth so many feelings of recollection, but no memories of ever being held to another.

What did that monster do to you, what did he do to you? whispered the calm voice as Shade dissolved into another bout of sobbing.

I don't even remember who you are or how you can stand to touch me. Shade finally got out and the arms tightened around him.

Severus told me that you didn't even recognize him, but I had assumed it was because of his age. murmured the blond and Shade found himself hugging the body close to him, unwilling to give up the only nonviolent human contact he had in what had to be years, Oh, Harry who did this to you?

Shade wanted to answer, but that would awaken a punishment, the pain curse that would continue until his master came to realize him. It was the more common of the punishments, but one that had conditioned him into the perfect slave he was. Shade touched his finger to the man's right temple and willed his thoughts to him, wishing that he could make his thoughts jump from his head to the blond's head. He felt a tingle of warm welcoming power, the same he felt from his staff, and the blond now wore a look of comprehension. Then it turned to horror, then rage.

I'll kill him. uttered the man after a minute, fire was burning in the tear filled gray eyes and the voice was now very angry in it's quietness. The arms that had loosened now squeezed him like a vice, Oh, Harry, he will be begging for death after I'm finished with him.

I was sent to kill you and all who hold your family name then destroy all your family owns. If I don't... he trailed off, the man knew.

I'll find a way to break his hold on you, Harry. If I can't Severus will. We've both missed you, all of the Blacks will want to see you as well.

Was this really my home before? asked Shade in a quiet voice. The man nodded.

Yes, this world and another where you were known as Richard Grayson or Nightwing. Peter was stuck there for five years after you were taken, he had to get enough power and skill to come back to us. He's now something of a cosmic serpent and a credit to you. He is your familiar after all. Here you were born as Harry Potter and known as Bryan Sunseeker, my best friend and cofounder of M&S Unlimited. I am Draco Malfoy, wizard and the best friend you have from both worlds that you call home. Draco said the last part with a hint of amusement and Shade couldn't help but smile.

You are very arrogant, you know. said Shade and Draco grinned.

I'm a Malfoy, I'm allowed. he said and both started to laugh and cry as they held onto each other, not wanting to lose the contact and shared emotions. It continued as Peter slithered in and the now fifteen foot long snake wrapped itself around them and was seamlessly incorporated into the hugging.

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(End Chapter One- Waking Up)