I do not own Teen Titans or Harry Potter. Or anything else.

Hope you all enjoy this chapter - If you've reviewed so far it's dedicated to you, since your the ones than inspire me to keep writting. Dialogue either directly copied, or closely derived, from dialogue in The Order of the Phoenix is intended and marked beginning and end with a *. I take J.K. Rowlings encouragement of Fanfiction as permission to do so and give her full credit and thanks for her work. I'm including these similarities to make my story dovetail nicely with the fifth book, at least until Raven gets a chance to impact life at Hogwats a little more.


2nd September, Fifth-year girls' Dormitory, Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts

The first thing Raven became aware of was high-pitched chattering, the second, that she must be awake. It was disorientating, being woken by something other than her own body clock, used to early rising as she was. The only times she didn't wake of her own accord was when the shrill cry of the Titan's emergency alarm woke her instead, so as she opened her eyes she was tense, poised to jump out of bed, tug on her uniform and be ready for a fight. Yet instead of the peachy glow of a Californian morning, there was only grey gloom. With a small tug in her chest Raven fully left her dream-state, and realised where she was.

"Lav, where's your lipstick? Not that one, the tangerine! Come on, I know you got it for your Birthday."

"Hmph. Fine, but no complaining when I use your primer."

"Do you think I should charm curls into my hair?"

"Not if it ends up looking like it did when you tried to charm it blond."

There was alight slap, followed by giggles.

With a groan Raven up-righted herself and peeked through the hangings. For some reason, the other inhabitants of her dormitory were walking around dressed in the grey box-pleated skirts of the uniform and lacy brassieres, wielding mascara wands and clucking like hens. Steam poured out from under the door of what she assumed was the adjoining bathroom, meaning everyone else in the dormitory was awake. Despite it being any time from five till seven judging by the achromatic sky outside, they were just like Starfire getting ready to go out for pizza. Except worse. Because there was three of them.

Before she could duck behind the scarlet curtains and spend the next hour or so meditating as best she could with all the noise, the louder of the two noticed her.

"Oh, you're the exchange student! We wondered, with the extra bed and all. I'm Lavender, and this is Parviti." The girl enthused, her expression unabashedly curious.

"Raven." She muttered back, her voice thick with sleep. She wondered how many more people were going to introduce themselves to her and hoped this would be the last time. She was sick of hearing her own name.

"I love your bindi. And your accent." Parvati said, eyes widening with identical interest.

"Uh, thanks. What time is it?" Raven asked, the words like glue in her mouth as she fought to keep them civil. She craned her neck towards the spot where her alarm clock would sit if this were her room. Of course, it wasn't there. She hadn't seen anything electrical since entering the castle.

"Six-thirty." Parviti answered cheerfully.

"and classes start at..?"

"Nine."

"So why are we up so early?" Raven asked, a little incredulously. Considering she would have to attend classes and appear as if she'd been waving wands her entire life, she thought a sleep in would have been nice.

"It's the first day of school. Got to get ready." Lavender said, in a tone that implied Raven was insane for not guessing this.

"If you want to impress a certain someone." Parviti said, giving Lavender a meaningful look. "Today's the day to start."

She stared at the two girls, marvelling at how people could be so vapid when there was supposedly a war going on. She decided against telling them any boy impressed by tangerine lipstick must be easily impressed indeed since doling out love advice to people who were clearly already getting it from Cosmo or its Witch equivalent was not her area of expertise.

"So why have you got the bindi anyway?" Parvati asked, twirling her wand around a strand of glossy black hair experimentally. Aside from a sudden dry mouth, Raven managed to make up an excuse on the spot.

"I've moved around a lot. Spent some time in Southern Asia, mainly in Nepal. It was traditional there." She answered nonchalantly. She picked Nepal because she thought it unlikely Parvati had come from there, compared to India, so was less likely to start a conversation about it. She probably needn't have worried (since Parvati's accent was clearly British and she was probably as English as Lavender) but there was Robin's paranoia again, rubbing off on her.

"It's so cool that you kept it." The girl responded with a smile. "It's really nice, not like the ones my Gran wears."

Raven thought that was probably because her Gran wore an actual bindi, rather than a gemstone embedded onto her Anja Chakra to help keep her demonic tenancies under control. It worried her, the more she thought about her cover story. Anyone who really knew about bindi's would realise hers was little higher on her forehead than was strictly traditional, and that the gemstone was too heavy to be stick-on. Hopefully there would be no such person at Hogwarts, and if they was, they would attribute the discrepancies to ignorance and magic. Still, if she could remove the thing she would. It drew too much attention.

The girls lapsed back into gossiping about who was trying to impress whom in the school, occasionally including Raven in their bitching or asking if she had met so and so yet. She listened with one ear, half-asleep, and nodded in all the right places until a familiar name sparked her attention.

" -don't talk to me about Harry Potter. So obvious he's lying, I mean putting his name in the Goblet last year was bad enough, but he's pathetic to pull this stunt." Lavender was saying, as she styled her dirty blond curls. "The Prophet shouldn't even bother reporting it, it's so sad."

"Keep your big fat mouth shut Lavender." interrupted a familiar savagely, as Hermione Granger emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, her hair dripping steadily onto her white shirt. It seemed Dumbledore had made it impossible for Raven to avoid his choice of friends for her. She couldn't say she would have preferred another gossiping fool to Hermione, though if given a choice at all she'd be sleeping in a private room.

"So you believe his rubbish?" Parvati shot back, while Lavender spluttered indignantly.

"It's not rubbish. Of course I believe Harry. If you've got a different opinion, keep it to yourself."

Raven watched the quarrel with interest. Though she had no idea about half of what they were talking about, it seemed that Albus Dumbledore had a very different opinion of Harry Potter than the rest of the Wizarding world. He had seemed sane enough when she had talked to him, but really, who was she to judge other's sanity?

Hermione stalked over to her bed and threw her towel down, ignoring the dirty looks from the two girls as best she could. They left together soon after, leaving Raven and Hermione alone.

"What was that about?" Raven asked as soon as the door shut behind them. Her exchange with Hermione on the train had been aggravating, but that wouldn't stop her from uncovering every half-truth Dumbledore had told her. She was meant to trust this man to be her guide in this world, yet so far he'd bent the truth about almost everything.

"The Daily Prophet's dismissed Voldemort's return as a lie." Hermione answered stiffly, organising her book bag with the care of a brain surgeon. "They've painted Harry as an attention seeking liar and Dumbledore as an insane old fool."

Insane maybe, Raven thought. Old, yes. But Fool? Definitely not. Dumbledore was as cunning as they came, that she was sure of.

"And you're sure he's telling the truth." Raven replied. It was more of a statement than a question. Despite thinking Hermione self-righteous and easily angered, she seemed smart enough. What was merely an invitation to explain her adamancy was taken the wrong way. Hermione turned smartly and fixed Raven with a furious glare.

"Of course he's telling the truth! How can you ask that, if you've been made a partial member of the Order?" She hissed quietly, looking around as if she expected eavesdroppers.

"I'm sorry if I don't seem to wholly believe everything Professor Dumbledore told me on completion of his blackmail." Raven answered dully.

"Then perhaps he is a fool for bringing you here." Hermione replied hotly, cheeks reddening.

It was all in the implication. That because Raven was a demon, and perhaps not as sociable as others would like, that she was dark. Evil. Not to be trusted. She was saved the temptation of arguing back as Hermione grabbed her book bag and exited the room, still sopping wet and furious. Lost within her own thoughts, Raven dressed, packed her bag and somehow managed to find her way down to the Great Hall without getting lost more than twice, thanks to portraits that shouted directions at her.

The four house tables where in the same places as last night, though now they were piled high with breakfast dishes. She sat alone, not caring if this made her look odd, and experimentally took the last piece of toast from the plate in front of her, despite her habit of taking only tea in the morning. There was a second where the plate's surface was covered in crumbs, and then another stack of toast appeared. She felt a bit like she had on her first day on earth, when she had assumed the people would be pacifists like everyone else she knew, and was shocked to instead see violence. It was the same off-kilter feeling of not knowing the rules of the game, of being unsure what might happen next. Though she was fairly good at adapting quickly (especially when compared to Starfire) due to a childhood being expected to learn lessons fast as a matter of life and death, it didn't make her dislike her disadvantaged position in this world anyless.

The Hall was alive with chatter, fraught with first day nerves and a feeling of comfort present in almost every student. Despite the moaning she overheard about the end of the holidays, everyone seemed glad to back, like they saw Hogwarts as a kind of safe harbour. At the staff table she spotted Dumbledore talking to the stern-looking witch who had brought out the sorting hat, and next to her the greasy-haired man who had freed her from Alastor Moody's bindings. She hadn't expected him to teach here, and wondered if it was just him and Dumbledore, or if the whole staff belonged to the Order.

To her dismay, Lavender and Parvati found her again, having somehow endeared herself to them through one action or another. In truth, the girls found her exotic. The combination of California accent and gypsy looks had them torn between asking her if she thought toe rings were back in style or if she knew any boys that surfed. They settled instead for what they knew, and started pointing out students and sharing any gossip they thought would help the new girl. Raven found it tedious but useful. By the time Professor McGonagall started handing out time tables, she had learnt that Draco Malfoy had a rich and influential father that wasn't to be toyed with, that Hermione Granger had gone out with a famous Athlete last year despite being an 'insufferable know-it-all' and that Blaise Zambini was very fit.

Whatever that meant.

Most interestingly, through a complicated story involving a Ravenclaw named Cho Chang and Harry Potter's apparent crush on her, she heard all about the ill-fated Triwizard Tournament and it's climax, in which a boy named Cedric was apparently murdered. The details were murky and coloured with Lavender and Parvati's useless theories, but it seemed that night was when Voldemort was resurrected, if he had been at all.

"Ah, Miss Roth. I'm Professor McGonagall. Your head of house and Transfiguration Teacher." The strict-looking woman said when she reached her. From the way the woman peered down at her, Raven got the feeling she did not approve of her admission to the school. "The Headmaster said you might be behind, please come with me so we can sort out your time table."

Feeling that they were not really going to be talking about time tables, Raven followed the woman as all the eyes in the Great Hall swivelled to follow her out. They walked for a few minutes until McGonagall reached a large door, tapped it twice with her wand and muttered, on which it swung open to admit them entry. Raven took in the place, dryly noting it must be her office. Every stone brick wall was draped with Gryffindor flags, and even the desk was engraved with a lion.

"Please, sit."

Raven stood uncomfortably, seeing no chairs so sit on until with a lazy flick of a wand, a straight-backed wooden one was conjured for her. She sat down gingerly, half expecting the thing to vanish into the thin air from which it had come as soon as it had to bear her weight.

"Now, Dumbledore has told me of your... unusual situation." McGonagall appraised Raven with sharp, searching eyes. This was not a woman, she felt, who would appreciate or even tolerate sarcasm. That didn't mean she would refrain from her natural way of reply, but it was an important thing to note.

"He seems to have told a lot of people." Raven replied lightly. If possible, the Professors gaze became even sterner, her tone even brisker, giving the younger woman the impression of being tossed out into an arctic wind.

"Albus Dumbledore deserves your respect." She said, in her clipped Scottish brogue. "I shall expect it from now on. We have never had a fifth-year who hasn't so match as transfigured a toothpick before. Many of the Professors here would not have even considered teaching you if Dumbledore insisted you were important to the Order"

Ah, so not just Snape, she mused.

"To make it easier for you, you will take the same classes as Harry Potter, and, incidentally, Ron Weasley. We all felt Miss Granger's workload far too much for a new Witch."

Dumbledore obviously really, really wanted Raven to be friends with them.

"Here is your timetable-" The Professor handed her a slip of parchment. "This castle is large and things often change, so it's easy to get lost. Best you stick to Mr Potter like glue. Newness does not encourage leniency towards lateness at this school. Nor will your exchange student status encourage leniency in any other infractions of the school rules. Am I clear?"

Biting back the urge to give her lip, Raven nodded instead, her face a blank canvas. Professor McGonagall regarded it with suspicion but all the same walked to the door and held it open for her.

"I will give Miss Granger the responsibility of helping you as long as it doesn't interfere with her school work. Trust me, Miss Roth, you will need it. Personally I think it a little dangerous to let you run around masquerading as a fifth year when you haven't used a wand before, but Professor Dumbledore assures me you have considerable talents. Enjoy your first day and try to stay out of trouble."

With the barest hint of a scowl, Raven exited the room and somehow managed to find her way back to the hall before it was emptied. Not that she expected wand-magic to be a simple task, but she refused to ask Hermione Granger for help. Somehow, she would muddle her own way through. Besides, she was only here to help the Order. After that, she'd get the knowledge of who her father was, and go. No need to make ties, lay down roots. She would not be bound to this place when she had a wonderful home already, filled with people that not only actually liked her, but that she liked in turn. Of course, maybe she was giving too much credit to Beastboy, though that could be attributed to the memory suppressant that was distance.

Deep in thought, she followed the golden trio from a good distance to their first class, History of Magic. Being an avid collector of stories (At least up until the Malchior debacle) she was expecting this to pique her interest. Yet once her surprise on discovering the teacher was a ghost faded, there was really nothing of interest to occupy her thoughts for the lesson. The Professor had a voice like a muted radio, and his lecture on Giant wars was coma-inducing. She spent the time observing her classmates swap notes and catch up on sleep. If this was really the great institution that spat out Britain's finest Witches and Wizards, Raven figured she was better off in the muggle world anyway.

The next class wiped that thought from her mind. The dungeons were dark and reeked of mildew, but they had a magical ambience hard to ignore. Energy hummed down there, like magic had a pulse and was part of every brick. It turned out her professor was Serverus Snape, who was far more sarcastic and mean than he'd been to her back at Grimmauld Place, though he showed no sign that he had ever met her before.

"Settle down." He ordered, the door slamming behind him. The students rscampered to their seats and had their books out by the time he had swept to the front of the class, as well trained as soldiers. One half of the class was entirely Slytherin, so she took the only spare seat on the Gryffindor table, next to a trembling boy she thought was called Neville. This class wouldn't have lasted in a world where they had to conceal their emotions - though each student was trying to remain perfectly still and calm, many of the Gryffindors looked at their potions master with barely concealed apprehension and fear, while anticipation shone on the faces of the Slytherins like beacons.

"Ah, I see we have the pleasure of welcoming a new student into our midst. Miss Roth, I can only hope the Salem Witches institute has prepared you to work at the standard I expect." Snape said silkily. He seemed to have suddenly decided to dislike her. Not that Raven really cared. She was used to it by now, so her calm expression remained fixed and sincere as she met his eyes. This only unnerved him for a second, before he started on some spiel she imagined he gave his students every year, on some extremely important tests they were sitting in June. Raven could only pray to Azar she wouldn't be around that long.

*"Today we are mixing an O.W.L level potion - The Draught of Peace, meant to sooth agitation and calm anxiety. Please pay close attention to what you are doing, least you put an unlucky volunteer into a deep and possibly irreversible sleep."* He told the class ominously, his eyes coming to rest on the boy she sat next to, who shivered. With a wave of his wand, a list of ingredients appeared on the blackboard and he bid them to start.

Here Raven felt, for the first time, that she might be able to carve a place for herself in this world if she so desired. Potions were familiar. Purely because the Teen Titans had no money to spare once Cyborg gutted the budget for new technology, it was up to her to make potions to cure headaches, balms to soothe burns and solutions to heal scrapes. That is, if she didn't want to waste time and energy healing her team mates herself. Ironically, to avoid playful accusations of Witchcraft, she had made her work seem like that of a Pharmacist's rather than a Sorcerer's.

Though she had often contemplated transferring these skills to medicine if the Titan's didn't last forever, it seemed she'd do just as well with them in the magical world. So even with Snape stalking the room like an overgrown bat, muttering about the poor quality of his student's work, she managed to complete her potion in time, despite it's inclusion of unfamiliar ingredients she would never get her hands on in Jump without a serious interrogation from Robin. The same could not be said for everyone else.

*"Potter, what is this supposed to be?"* The Professor sneered at Harry's cauldron, which was by the end of class issuing steel-grey steam rather than silvery mist. Something in his tone of voice, and in the way the Slytherins looked up eagerly upon hearing it, made her think that the special malice in it was reserved for Potter only. If Snape was trying to distance himself from the Order by making it appear as if he would never act to protect Harry, he was doing an exquisite job.

The resulting bickering meant the boy next to her, who thankfully hadn't thought to introduce himself, sagged with relief when it became apparent there would be no time for Snape to see the gelatinous mess he had managed to create. Harry stormed out of class seething, with his best friends following close behind, offering words of comfort. It all seemed very odd to her, this intense loathing they had for their Professor. Sure, the man was curt and unpleasant, but he was on their side when it mattered, wasn't he? And Harry had read the instructions wrong, so he could hardly blame Snape for his own carelessness. When she heard him snap at his two friends, her opinion of him nose-dived further south. Perhaps there was some stock in what Lavender and Parvati had been saying this morning. She resolved to discount most of what her new headmaster had told her in favour of making up her own mind. So far, it didn't look like she and the trio would become fast friends. They simply did not trust each other.

The day progressed in a blur of magical disciplines, each more baffling than the last. She was at first secretly distressed to discover she had absolutely no talent in Divination. Parviti and Lavender could apparently construct each other's future out of the mushy remains of some god-awful tea, whereas she saw only unattractive lumps. Half-way through the lesson she had made up her mind that Professor Trelawny had to be a fraud, or at least a terrible teacher who focused more on maintaining the heady smell of incense that permeated her hot little tower room than accurate predictions. Perhaps Raven was a little predisposed to dislike Divination, considering her hatred of prophecies, though looking around at the other students she felt she was being more than fair.

Defence against the Dark Arts was little better. Raven had come in with no expectations, having no idea how the subject could be taught, and even she was disappointed with the lesson. Professor Umbridge was a new appointment yet ten minutes into the lesson already heartily disliked. Apparently DADA lessons were often practical, so the announcement wands would be away for the year was met with loud protests, largely from Harry Potter.

Secretly, Raven agreed. Being a Superhero was what she considered the reality of Defense Against the Dark Arts, at least in the 'muggle' world, and the Titan's certainly never got anywhere through careful planning alone. Training sessions were the closest to what a DADA lesson should resemble, when she thought about it. Cyborg didn't build the T-car by sitting on the couch and watching Pimp my Ride. Robin didn't get into peak physical condition by reading Martial Arts for Dummies. And Beastboy definatly didn't get any funnier after watching the Comedy Channel. So why theory for fighting Dark Magic?

Of course, instead of presenting a logical argument like Hermione Granger, Harry Potter (and a few of his class mates) started shouting. He was a hot-head, that had been clear from the second he jumped up to defend Ginny Weasley despite Raven's warnings. Having spent her entire life reigned in, she found his lack of control juvenile. However, it did give her some possible insight into Dumbledore's plans. He had said they would be able to help each other. Perhaps she was meant to help Harry behave.

*"I do not wish to critisize the way things are run at this school." Umbridge had said, in the face of water-tight argument for using magic in a magic-based class, in that patronising surgery tone of hers. "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed - not to mention," She had added with a laugh. "-extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin, " Dean Thomas had countered angrily. "He was the best we ever-"*

Umbridge had interrupted and carried on with her Ministry approved reasoning, while Harry got steadily more furious and lashed out in the most dramatic way possible (which was apparently saying Lord Voldemort out loud, according to the reactions she observed). For a while Raven had sat frozen, unable to follow the verbal tennis match between teacher and students. The mention of Remus Lupin in her class had caught her off guard. She was so used to being alone in this world that she found herself forgetting the possible fathers out there, especially when she was trying to focus on creating an aura of nonchalance in the face of impossible and frequent magical occurrences. However, it was the half breed comment that had her reeling. Half what, exactly?

After the bell rang, she rushed upstairs while the others headed down to dinner. It was time to crack open those Wizarding History books and inform herself about this mysterious Lord Voldemort. The reactions to Harry saying the name out-loud had been uniform all throughout the class - gasps, involuntary shivers, choking, ticks. Horror at the mere mention of a man dead for fourteen years. It all indicated that this Wizard had been a new breed of evil, and that worried her more than she cared to admit. When Dumbledore had first made his claims about Voldemort and Trigon attempting to work together she'd been sceptacle at first. Now the reactions of people who hadn't even been alive during Voldemort's reign of terror made her reconsider her initial reaction.

If he was as powerful as they said, and indeed back, she would stay on at Hogwarts to help the Order even if she did get the results of the DNA test she planned to do as soon as possible. She wouldn't go home until she was sure Trigon was safe and sound in his prison. Right now though, what Raven needed was bargaining power. Because it was hard to concentrate with Remus Lupin's half-blood status running through her mind.


I'll admit not much happens here, but trust me, the next chapter is half-done and even I'm laughing in parts. Which is a bit narcistic considering I'm the one writting it. Ah well.