Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, nor do I own Harry Potter or any of the characters associated with the two. Teen Titans is © of DC Comics, Harry Potter is © of J.K. Rowling, and Warner Brothers holds © over both of them.

Author's Warning: This is a crossover fic. :Watches people close the window.: Ahem. Those of you who do not like crossovers may leave now. The rest of you, I invite to continue on…

Summary: Trigon has returned, and Voldemort has joined him as a minion. Drawn by strange dreams, Raven must involve herself in the problems of others, including one Harry Potter, who is once again being plagued by strange nightmares. This year at Hogwarts, Harry and his friends are going to be pitted against their most difficult task yet. Destroying a force that even the Dark Lord himself fears won't be easy…

Harry Potter and the Demon's Wrath, or; Year Seven and Negative One-Fourth

Chapter 10 – Making Amends

Harry tore down the stairs that led from his dormitory to the common room, coming to a halt only once he'd reached the base of the staircase that led up to the girl's dormitories. He stared up the flight of stairs, tempted to try and race up them before the alarm had a chance to be tripped, then decided against it and instead filled his lungs with air.

"RAVEN!" he bellowed up the stairs, somehow knowing that the girl needed to know about this particular vision. If the being he hadn't been able to see had been Trigon, and they'd been discussing Raven, then he needed to tell her. Harry simply wasn't comfortable with being the only one to be aware of information that important.

"Raven!" he called again, having not received any response from her, and desperately hoping that she was still in the dormitory and not elsewhere in the castle, because although he was sure he'd be able to find her on the Marauder's Map, he really wasn't feeling up to searching for her.

"Harry?" A soft voice said behind him. Harry jumped and spun to see the lavender haired girl standing there, one of her eyebrows raised in a curious expression. He opened his mouth to tell her that they needed to talk, right now, without delay, but she cut across before he had the chance to say anything.

"I had a vision last night," she said, tone low. "We need to talk. Can you get us back to the—" she paused, and seemed to be trying to remember something, "—Room of Requirement?" Harry frowned at her, but nodded. Had Raven seen the same scene that he had? If so, what did that mean?

Inwardly shaking his head, Harry gestured at Raven to follow him, hoping that she had more of an idea of what was going on than he did. He was certain that she did – it seemed to him that she had spent most of her life dealing with Trigon. Not for the first time, Harry wondered how closely related to him she was. She'd been very vague on the subject when it had come up.

"Harry? Where are you going with her?" Harry froze and turned to see Hermione coming down from the girl's dormitories, her face set in a hostile expression, and he abruptly recalled that he hadn't informed Hermione or Ron about the lessons that Raven was giving him. He glanced at Raven to find her looking carefully away from her dormitory mate, apparently very interested in one of the tapestries that was hung high on the wall in the common room.

"I, ah—Room of Requirement," Harry said honestly, unable to think of a believable story. He hadn't thought that he'd have any problems from Hermione or Ron over his interacting with Raven. In fact, Harry was quite sure that Ron wouldn't have a problem. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't like Raven, and Harry had – quite stupidly - forgotten that.

Hermione was giving him a strange look, one that seemed to combine curiosity and disgust, and Harry realised how his hesitation must have sounded to her. Trying to look at the situation from her perspective, he said calmly, "Raven's been helping me a bit with my connection with Voldemort." The honest truth, but it did nothing to clear the suspicious look from Hermione's face. If anything, her expression became more pronounced.

"Harry, can I talk to you alone?" Hermione asked, looking directly at Raven as she said it. The lavender haired girl let out a dry chuckle.

"I didn't need the pointed hint. I'm not too fond of you either," Raven said bluntly in response. She glanced at Harry, "Perhaps later then, after classes this afternoon, but remember that I need to talk to you about this." She stated before slipping through the portrait hole and out of the common room. Hermione stared after her, annoyance etched into her features, before she rounded on Harry.

"What's going on between you two?" she demanded. Harry shook his head and sighed.

"Nothing, Hermione. I--"

"Harry, she's dangerous!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry raised an eyebrow; his curiosity peaked by the declaration.

"What? What do you mean?" he asked. Hermione gave him an exasperated look.

"I wasn't going to tell you, I guess because I thought she was keeping to herself. I was researching her, Harry." She took a breath. "Both her and Professor Seraphlin. They're both really dangerous. I don't know what McGonagall was thinking when she let them come into the school. I mean, Raven's one thing – she's a student, and I guess that's different – but letting someone like Seraphlin in?" Hermione was shaking her head. Harry stared at her, confused.

"Hermione, what're you on about?" He asked hesitantly. Hermione fixed him with a sharp look.

"Demons, Harry. They're demons."

Harry found, despite the abrupt delivery on the news, that he wasn't as shocked about the revelation as he should have been. That alone bothered him. Hermione's expectant look bothered him more. She wanted him to do something with this knowledge, but he wasn't at all sure what that something was.

"Good demons or bad demons?" he asked, feeling rather stupid. He was only vaguely familiar with the Muggle notion of demons, and had no idea if there even was a Wizarding world equivalent. He was sure there had to be, but whatever it was, they certainly hadn't been taught it so far in his years at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts curriculum, however, had never stopped Hermione Granger from finding out what she wanted to know, and Harry would have been more surprised if she had been unable to answer his question, than by the answer he received from her.

"It's too hard to tell, obviously," her slightly bossy, know-it-all tone was at full force as she launched into her explanation. "I've managed to trace down what they are, but there are so many different types of demons, and from all sorts of different dimensions, with different abilities, that without further information from either Raven or Professor Seraphlin, I don't think I'm going to be able to tell.

"For instance, did you know that Dementors are a weak demi-demon that only inhabit this plane?"

He hadn't, and the rest of the information she offered wasn't helpful in the least, but he was sure Hermione at least knew what she was trying to tell him. It couldn't help him, of course, without his being granted some sort of outlet in which to use the information, but Hermione was bound to give him that. Otherwise, she wouldn't have brought the topic up at all.

"Maybe you can find out more from Raven, since you seem to be on such good terms with her." Harry hadn't been expecting Hermione to mention the topic in quite that tone o course, but he couldn't deny having seen it coming, even before the conversation they'd just had. He was well aware of the animosity that seemed to have developed between Hermione and Raven since the school year had started. He wasn't sure whether it was entirely due to her being a wholly new student, or to do with the trust McGonagall and the other teachers seemed to have invested within her, but he certainly knew this revelation wasn't going to do anything to resolve the tension.

"She's trying to help, Hermione. Whatever else she is, I don't think Raven is against us. I don't think she had anything to do with Voldemort's increased threat. After all, she helped me this summer, and she's been slowly trying to help me now that we've met…" he trailed off. He was trying to pacify his friend, and though he was sure of his success, however minimal, he knew he couldn't say much more.

He really didn't think Raven had any ulterior motives. In fact, he was rather certain of it, though he wasn't sure how much of her story Raven had been leaving out. He couldn't see there being much more to the story; after all, she'd come right out and told him what she was. She's said she had "familial connections" to this Trigon, and if Trigon was some sort of demon… Well, then it made sense if Raven was too. Not only that, but it solved the question of why Voldemort was bowing to the creature.

"Listen, Hermione. I've just thought of something…" he started, then explained his theory about Trigon, carefully leaving out what Raven had mentioned about her relation. He doubted she wanted it to be common knowledge. Hermione, though, could put two and two together quite capably anyway, so he needn't have bothered.

"The Order knows what's going on. They have to," Hermione said when he had finished. He nodded in agreement. There was no other reason for Raven and Professor Seraphlin to have been brought in, otherwise. What irritated him most was being kept in the dark like this, having to struggle on his own with Ron and Hermione to figure all of this out, when he knew the Order was already five steps ahead and doing their best to move forward while not finding it prudent to inform him of all they already knew.

It was a waste of time to have to figure it all out when the information was there, just barely out of his grasp, held securely in the minds of the adults around him.

"Harry?" Hermione queried in a soft voice, breaking the silence beginning to lapse between them. He jerked at her tone. There was something in it he just didn't like. Something almost fearful, and he automatically stepped closer to her.

"What is it, 'Mione?" he asked, watching her face carefully. Her lips moved in an un-Hermione-ish way as she bit down on the inside of her lower lip before she opened her mouth to speak.

"How is anyone supposed to fight against something like this?"

Though entirely certain she wouldn't get the chance to speak with Harry Potter today, Raven took her time finishing dinner in the Great Hall anyway. Her sole reason for sitting at the other end of the Gryffindor table from Harry, Hermione and Ron was habit. She'd begun by avoiding them, and it had so quickly become engrained in her feet—really, she'd not been at the school all that long—that she automatically avoided them now.

It was probably for the better, really. Raven was well aware the Head Girl held no love for her, and there was enough strain between them in the dormitory. It didn't need to spread into the rest of the school as well. However, Raven was still acutely aware she was going to have to find some way to get along with the girl at some point. She did, after all, have to finish trying to train Harry, and the only way she was really going to be able to do that was if they could stop sneaking around the friends of the Boy-Who-Lived. It was bound to be more difficult than it should be for her to at least gain speaking terms with Hermione, but she would figure something out. Eventually.

Until that happened, Raven intended on continuing to sit at the opposite end of the long Gryffindor table from the trio, and continue to make her trailing of them inconspicuous. Remembering the conversation she'd been privy to through the vision she and Harry had shared was unnerving her. Raven had scarcely any doubt of the identity of the contact Trigon had spoken of. She was entirely certain the thing which had sired her was going to try and contact her, and she knew she had to begin preparing. She wasn't going to let him try to use her as a portal again. There was no way.

She knew, however, that in order to stop - or at least hinder in some way - Trigon from contacting her, she was going to have to prepare some sort of resistance. Though entirely certain the Hogwarts library would have something on the topic of such a defence, Raven was unsure of where she ought to start.

She needed, if not more time altogether, then a definite date for which to find the information. She knew there was no hope of her actually being informed, accidentally or otherwise, of when Trigon was going to attempt his contact with her, but she wished there was some way of knowing.

Since there wasn't, Raven knew she needed to start looking now and hope she'd discovered something when the time came. If she'd had six years of the sort of education Hogwarts offered, and six years of familiarity with the way the Hogwarts library worked, then perhaps she would know where to start. However, she had neither and doubted there would be time in which to make up for that. It didn't really leave her many other options.

For that matter, she could really only think of three, two of which she would only turn to as a last resort, and the third being one she was just as reluctant to try. Even as Raven sat there in the Great Hall though, staring down at her emptied dinner plate, she became more sure of that third option.

She rose from the table, pushing the empty bench back with her legs as she did so, only one thought now on her mind. There was a bit of a dilemma in Raven's third option - getting the other party to co-operate with her - but she thought she might be able to work something out.

"Hermione, can I speak with you?"

The Head Girl was the only person Raven had seen spend the same amount of time - or more - in the library as Raven herself did. Since that wasn't the sort of behaviour one simply developed over the course of two weeks, Raven was sure Hermione had spent plenty of time in the school's library over the past six years.

It was exactly what she needed - a student who had at least an inkling of the happenings around her, and who was familiar with the means by which to research those happenings. The only issue, of course, would be getting Hermione to help her instead of fighting her. She was certain it wouldn't be at all easy to do so either. Better to start immediately, instead of later when Hermione became dead-set on hating her.

The look the bushy-haired girl was giving her, though, told her that may have already happened.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about," Hermione said coolly. Raven squished down the impulse to scowl at her. Losing control of herself wouldn't help in any way, and she would only have to waste time trying to calm herself if she did. There were far more important things she needed to do right now.

"Look," Raven said blandly, sliding onto a chair next to Hermione's couch - it wouldn't do to crowd her - and leaning forward so no one around would be able to overheard their conversation. "I know we didn't hit it off well when we met."

Hermione snorted, and Raven glowered at her, not at all appreciative of the interruption. She supposed she should have expected it - there was absolutely no reason for Hermione to make this easy for her. No reason, because she was sure Hermione thought the very worst of her - for that matter, she knew for certain Hermione thought the worst of her - and while the Head Girl had every right… Well, Raven needed to make her listen.

Resolved not to move from her place until she finished with this, Raven ploughed on. "And I know you don't want to listen to me right now, or probably ever, but I need your help."

The words gave Hermione pause. She actually looked up from her notes, which was more than she'd done through the rest of the conversation (or rather, Raven's short monologue).

"What, exactly, could you need my help for?" The question was hostile, but being entirely used to hostility, Raven ignored it. She did, however, allow a long pause to stretch in the conversation as she stared forward at the fire cracking in the grand fireplace. She'd let Hermione think what she wanted of the pause - she needed to think of the best wording for her request anyway. This was proving to be a more difficult conversation than she'd counted on.

"Research," she finally replied, and though Hermione's hair was mostly covering her face, Raven saw an eyebrow shoot up. The girl finally turned to look at her, abandoning her work altogether.

"You spend as much time in the library as I do, so you're not asking me to do your homework for you…" Hermione trailed off and Raven refrained from responding to the comment, as it had likely merely been Hermione thinking aloud more than an insult directed at Raven's character. "What, exactly, do you need my help for then?"

Raven forced a tight-lipped smile. "I don't know what I'm looking for. You will, I think. Or you'll have a better idea of what I should be looking for," she explained. She hoped this was going to work. She hoped to avoid baring her soul to a stranger for absolutely no reason, but going through Harry to get Hermione's help wouldn't have worked for her. She needed to patch things up with Hermione anyway, and as much as Raven regretted admitting it, being Harry's friend meant Hermione should be informed of the goings-on here anyway. Better if it came from her than second hand from Harry.

Hermione stared at her for a long moment following the request and then nodded, looking reluctant.

"Explain."

Raven explained. She explained for four days, over and over again, until Hermione finally began to listen to and believe what Raven was trying to tell her. Or at least, before Hermione was willing to admit she was believing what Raven told her. It proved to be an amazingly frustrating exercise, and not one Raven planned on repeating anytime in the near future.

Those four days later finally saw them in the library, clustered together and out of the way of Madam Pince, trying to hide what they were doing. Both were aware there wasn't actually anything wrong with their research, but neither wanted the stern librarian to know anything of what they were doing. They didn't discuss the decision, but whenever the woman walked by, both reached to cover their books with the extra parchment scattered across the table. Raven simply didn't want any more people than necessary to know what she was, and why she had been asked to the school. She had no idea of Hermione's motive, and doubted the other girl was likely to share it with her anytime soon, but she was grateful for Hermione's discretion.

"This is an obscure topic," Hermione said with a shake of her head sometime in the afternoon of their first day of researching. Raven merely grunted in response. It was only due to the obscurity of the topic that she needed help with her research in the first place. "Is Harry in danger?" she asked then.

Suddenly feeling troubled, and not even entirely sure why, Raven met Hermione's eyes. She really couldn't find a decent answer to the question. If she said no, Hermione would accuse her of lying - and for good reason, since it was exactly what Raven would be doing. However, she knew a response of 'yes' would cause a similar reaction.

"I was under the impression that Harry is always in danger," she offered. Hermione's expression, having been slightly open, flattened.

"You're not wrong," the other girl replied, a far away look in her eyes. Then the gaze hardened again, and Raven tilted her head slightly to one side, forcing herself not to frown. "But that doesn't mean he should be brought into anything else!"

With only an inkling of where this was headed, Raven kept quiet. She didn't know Hermione nearly well enough to respond here, and she had no gift for comforting others to begin with. Harry was in danger. More than anyone else in this school, probably more than anyone else in this British, underground world of witches and wizards, Harry was in danger. Raven had known that since the morning she'd awoken after her first vision of Voldemort and Trigon.

It should have been difficult for Raven to verify for Hermione the danger her friend was in, when there was so much of it.

It wasn't.

"Yes, Harry's in danger," she admitted. Hermione's face fell and the girl shook her head. Forcing herself to be patient, Raven stared at the page before her, unable to focus enough to actually read any of the words. Though she was an Empath, Raven wasn't al that fantastic at actually practicing empathy. Hermione was sure to be filled with some sort of inner turmoil, and Raven knew she ought to refrain from continuing until she could work through it. Thankfully, Hermione seemed to have a decent hold over her emotions. Only about two minutes of waiting saw her back under control, with something like determination sparking in her brown eyes.

"You know what's going on, don't you? Better than anyone else," Hermione asked suddenly. Raven wanted to bash her head against the table. It was what she'd been trying to convince Hermione of for days. If she'd known all it would take to convince the girl was a confirmation of her fears, she would've been able to solve this from the beginning. They could have been days ahead on the research.

But what ifs and could haves weren't going to help at all now.

"I know what Trigon is," she replied. "And I suspect he's using Voldemort—" Hermione winced, then looked furious at herself "—as a vessel in an attempt to garner some sort of control in this dimension. Everyone's already terrified of Voldemort. Trigon doesn't need to establish anything more…" she trailed off, trying to get her thoughts in order. She needed to present this with logic, or at least something approaching it. When dealing with madmen though, logic was hard to find.

"And with the power Voldemort has, adding this …Trigon's to it will only make him harder to kill," Hermione finished. "But why you?" Raven frowned at the question, and Hermione continued, "It's like expecting Harry to kill Voldemort. You're the same age we are, the same age he is, and they decided you were the only one they could turn to? It's ridiculous." Raven knew the current of anger in Hermione's voice wasn't directed at her, that it was directed at someone else, but it took her a long moment to realise the anger was directed toward Minerva McGonagall, and the rest of the anti-Voldemort group that had asked her here.

"Don't be angry on my behalf," Raven said quickly, feeling a little amused at the ferocity in Hermione voice but refusing to show it. "This is what I do."

"What do you mean, 'this is what you do?'" Hermione demanded, cutting across her. "Grown adults - powerful witches and wizards dead-set on exterminating a foe - often send for you to do their dirty work?"

Even knowing Hermione's tirade only came forth out of defence for her friend, Raven found herself shocked at her ability to hold her anger all this time. It was clear, however, from the way Hermione was speaking that she would be unable to fully grasp just why Raven needed to be here, and why she didn't entirely mind the role she'd been brought in to play. Hermione wouldn't be able to understand Raven's responsibility here, and so she wasn't even going to attempt explaining it to the girl.

Instead, after a rather meaningful glance at the books, which clearly told Hermione she wanted to return to her research, she delivered a simple reply.

"Yes, they do. I'm a superhero."

Minerva McGonagall closed the leather folder before her with a snap, staring down at the crest-embossed cover for a long moment before shifting her gaze to one of the windows lining the walls in her tower office. She ignored the curious stares of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts who had come before her, preferring to watch the canopy line where the Forbidden Forest met the overarching sky above, imagining her view from here gave her a glimpse of the small, black figure she knew had to be inhabiting the forest.

As though her thoughts had summoned it - her, the Headmistress amended to herself - a brilliant silver doe came pacing gracefully into the office, her large, soft eyes focused on Minerva. The voice that then issued from the creature's mouth was a shock. It always was.

Minerva listened intently to the words the doe delivered, nodding carefully in response to the message. Then, as the creature began to face away, her task complete, the Headmistress met the twinkling blue eyes of the portrait handing in a position of honour, directly behind her desk.

"Nothing we didn't know already," the stern woman commented.

"Give him time," the portrait chastised. "He will, most assuredly, deliver what you need. Then you can put the rest into motion."

"I don't trust him. Not after…" but the suddenly stern look on the portrait's face caused her to trail off, unable to rationalise her protest enough to continue. Even knowing the details behind what had happened wasn't helping her to accept that night. Maybe someday she would be able to, but not without seeing some sort of heroic display that would redeem him.

"I know, Minerva," the portrait said heavily. "However it is me you need to trust here. I am asking you to listen to his information and respond correctly. Not to have him at your back in a fight." She could hear the disapproval in the portrait's voice and she gave the figure a frustrated look.

"And I will continue to do so," she replied, feeling her temper rise marginally. "But I will not defend him if he is caught."

The portrait continued to look disapproving, but after a long moment, responded.

"That will not happen."

Author's Corner

I am the queen of sporadic updates.

And, a note on Raven's "I'm a superhero" comment, before I get torn to shreds over it. It is not ego speaking. The line is delivered for pure shock value, and to get Hermione off of Raven's back about something which really isn't bothering her, but is clearly bothering Hermione. It works, but, well, something else starts to bother Hermione. You'll see in the next chapter.

Completed - May 20/2009