Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter/Sandman/Lucifer

AN: I figure since I'm never going to be able to write an actual story I'd best get some of my ideas down before I forget them. Anyone is welcome to expand any of these into a proper fic.


Harry was dreaming, of that much he was sure. He was wandering the halls of what appeared to be a mansion, endless corridors stretching before him. Or rather, he was watching himself walk the passages with a strange kind of detached feeling. The only sounds that reached his ears were the echo of his own footsteps off the walls.

Suddenly, there was a flutter of almost silent wings; a raven landing on the shoulder of his dream-self, who seemed relatively unsurprised, greeting the large bird with an almost smile. Matthew. That was the raven's name, Harry was suddenly aware. The bird opened its beak and sighed the long-suffering sigh of someone who had been in this situation before.

"Great. Another one of Michael's lost children. Why do they keep ending up here?" The American voice spoke from the bird's body.