Ahem... I won't be writing the disclaimer anymore after this, you all know that HP isn't mine so... yeah. No more wasting time with disclaimers.

'thoughts'

"speech"

Thanks to all of those of you who reviewed, I read any and all reviews I get, and they all mean a lot to me. Anyways...

Raven - Chapter 3

"Run Rave, 'e's comin' we gots ta get movin'" screamed a frantic Chaz " Run Raven, Scout c'n only 'old him fer so long" he continued " MOVE!" he cried, grabbing nine and half year old Raven, relieving him of half his cargo so he could run faster. They'd just pulled off a big heist from the large chain grocery store, and they were being followed. If they were caught they would lose the food they'd stolen, food that was supposed to feed their gang for the next week. Not to mention they'd be taken to some child services agency, and placed into some orphanage. No. They couldn't be caught.

Scout made up the third part of the trio, and they were the best at what they did, thievery. They were always, for as long as any of them could remember, given the task of getting their food. Today was just like any other day, and this store manager had been chasing them for four blocks, and because he'd not been tempered to run like the two boys, he fell behind. Finally, giving up, he turned, defeated, to head back to his store. The boys had stolen a lot, and the poor manager would never be able to figure out how they had gotten out the door without anyone noticing them it was impossible, like magic. After making sure the manager had really given up, the boys slowed to a walk so as to not draw anymore attention to themselves, and they started to make their way to the spot they'd arranged to meet Scout at. They always had to steal from places that were far from where they were staying so they would never be recognized when they were pulling off a job, and to keep suspicious policemen far from their already tentatively kept home.

It was on the way home, long after night had fallen when, after seeing that Raven was again fingering the hilt of his dagger— a knife with a slightly curved silver blade with a black fitted grip, the only decoration adorning it was the etched snake coiled around the blade near the hilt, that Scout decided to ask about it, again.

Raven had always been secretive about his dagger, he never told anyone where he'd gotten it, not even Davey No one really pushed for the information but they were always hoping to find out, they were curious as to where he'd gotten such a beautiful blade. He let slip small clues, but all they knew was that he'd gone out one day, on his own when he was six years old and had come back with nothing in his hand, the next day he left again, on his own, but had come back with the knife and its curious sheath that they'd guessed was a tough kind of black leather. He'd been tight lipped about the whole affair, and it had taken years to get that it had been by Charing Cross Road that he'd picked it up, and he'd not said anything else since, except say 'he gave it to me', but he did seem to go off a lot in that direction on his own, sometimes with Chaz in tow who'd also disappeared with Raven one day a few months after he'd acquired the knife. They knew he'd gone to the same place as Raven had been, they were sometimes seen talking about it in hushed tones.

"Rave?" she queried.

"Mm?"

" it was a good haul t'day huh?"

"Sure" he replied

"an' we gots lotsa food. Dar'll be happy huh?"

"She will Scout" he agreed

" Raven?"

He smiled, she was always playing this game with him. Asking him simple, but pretty useless questions to get a conversation going, then getting to the real point of the conversation. He was a naturally secretive person, and in their way of life your secrets saved your life. She was the type of person that loved to solve a good mystery, and he was an ongoing project of hers. He humored her, it was a good game, and he'd give her partial answers if he felt like it He didn't really care if she found out stuff about him, she was trustworthy. he just wasn't the type to tell the world right away. It always amused him with the randomness that she questioned him, she would never ask about the same thing two conversations in a row, and she sometimes she was very creative in her questioning. Snapping his thoughts back to the conversation at hand he replied with a soft "yes?" accompanied by a knowing smirk.

Even though she knew she'd been found out, again, She continued. "Have ye gone back ter Charin' Cross Road lately?"

'She must be tired' he thought 'no subtlety or creativeness at all, just blunt and straight to the point.'

But he answered anyway, "yes Scout, I 'ave"

"Hmm, and have you met anyone there lately?"

"Yes" he replied automatically, then paused 'I was wrong, she is being creative today' he thought

"the same man who gave you your dagger?" she asked sweetly

'Ha, she is sneaky, good thing I've already caught on' "ye almos' 'ad me Scout, clever. Bu' " and he thought 'what's the harm', then "yes, 'e is the same man" he said with a small,knowing smile gracing his features.

"Ye caught me Raven, ye always do" she said, also smiling, and knowing Raven, she knew he would not be forthcoming with more information this day so se steered the conversation off a little, but she was stalled when she saw the notches lining the hilt of the beautiful killing device. 'Ye pu' on a new notch Rave?"

He was silent, reflecting on the past. It had been two years since that day when he'd killed that boy. That event had taken him a long time to get over, but with Davey incessantly badgering him and telling him that what he did was not wrong with the life they led, he caved. It also helped that Davey stated that had he not gone and killed the boy, then he would have died that day, leaving Raven without the his first friend, the boy he had dubbed his older brother, the boy he had grown to love so much. Needless to say that after hearing that, it didn't take long for Raven to give in to defeat. He would have, in fact, done so as soon as Davey had finished his reasoning, and the only thing holding him back from doing so, was his pride. He did have an image to uphold, and to the young child, that image meant the world to him, it was his security blanket of sorts, his mask to hide his true self behind, so as to keep it from harm.

In the time since his first kill and his ninth birthday, his dagger had acquired a couple more notches, and he was dubbed one of the best fighters on the street, by the young and old, he was wily, cunning, and creative, Things happened around him that didn't seem possible, and he could never be caught off guard, he was always alert, it was like he had a sixth seventh and eighth senses at his beck and call to warn him of impending danger. Even in his sleep he was aware, and who ever tried to sneak up on him would have a blade at their throat before they even registered him moving.

His cunning and resourcefulness leached into other areas of his life, he was the most efficient pick pocket, and the only one of his group who could steal a whole cart worth of food without even being noticed until It was too late.

He both loved and hated stealing, and it was a required act if one wished to survive. It wasn't the act so much as what it really was that they were doing that he didn't like. He was like a Robin Hood of sorts. He would study the person he was pick pocketing carefully before committing himself. He would examine them, only deeming them worthy of his slippery hand if they were rich enough to not notice the loss immediately, he was loath to steal from someone who needed the money almost as much as he himself needed it. He loved it because of the terrifying thrill he got from almost being caught in action by his prey, and he loved the exhilarating feel of being chased by a bobby; racing though crowds, darting through legs, and disappearing from their clutches just when they thought they had him. He was the best, and his group of nine depended on him. And then he continued thinking, to the last time they had gotten away with so much food, it was when he'd added the latest notch to the dagger.

"Raven?" he had been silent for a while now and she was getting worried, never before had he, not answered her, and then it hit her, he had always harbored guilty feelings about what he was forced to do. He certainly wasn't merciful if someone threatened his or any of his friends lives, but he had said once, after someone made a comment stating that 'over time you got used to it', that he would never get used to it and that every time would feel like the first time for him. She had gone and asked the one thing that he hated talking about, she felt awful, and was about to say so when he answered. "Yea Scout, one more" he said softly if not a bit stiffly, and then he was silent once more.

In an effort to steer the conversation away, she looked around for a new topic to start on. When her gaze finally rested on their new place, she reflected on her past with the gang, and decided to voice her thoughts out loud. "We been t'gether fer a long time. Eh Rave? All nine of us, such a long time"

He was silent again, but this time it was a comfortable silence, there was no more tension in the air between them, he was thinking back on how they had all wound up together.

There was Davey, the oldest; nine years Raven's senior. His story sob story was very similar to Raven's only it was his abusive father who had abandoned him to the streets after his mother had died by his hand. Davey only been six when he was left to die in an alley. He'd been picked up and cared for by a man who was twelve years older than him, they'd stayed together until this man had been arrested and sentenced to lifer in prison when Davey was ten, after that Davey had begun making his own group, with numerous people so no on would ever be left alone again. The first to join had been a long time friend of his. Darla was the same age as him, she had always had many contacts, and she was the one who always found a home for them when the had to vacate their old one because of suspicion that it was occupied from the owner s of the building, the police, or when feuding go to be too big of a problem between gangs. She was the proverbial glue that kept them together, always making sure that fights and disagreements were settled before they escalated to dangerous levels between their own.

Scout, their third member, had stumbled upon Darla one day when she was gathering her evening meal from the back door of the grocery store, she was exhausted on her feet, and hadn't even the strength to remain upright, she was filthy and starving. To put int simply she was dying a slow death because she was not old enough to take care of herself. She was only a toddler, it was never found out why she was found on the streets, she was after all only just three years old, and all she knew was her age. Once fed and cared for, she flourished into a beautiful young girl with a fiery temper. She had dazzling pale, almost cream colored eyes with long auburn hair, her skin, pale and splashed with freckles was flawless her face was the picture of perfection with a small button nose. She was the image of a doll. Perfect. She made a good little thief too She would lure her victim into a false sense of security and then promptly grab what it was she was after, almost everyone was lulled by her harmless demeanor. She later paired up with Raven and Chaz to make a good team. Raven did the actual stealing, Scout was the lookout and the decoy, while Chaz looked after any technical problems and he orchestrated their escape. It was an, as of yet unbeatable team.

Adam and Neave, the twins, and the fifth and sixth to join, were the gangs neighbors for the longest time, they'd shared the old building with them for two years before their mother died, the gang on one floor, and the small family on another. When their mother died of sickness the two orphaned ten year olds simply moved their stuff to the same floor as the others and officially became members of the gang

The next eldest was Rick, who was only a year junior to Davey and Darla, had been the seventh member to join, bringing with him Chaz, who was eight years younger than him and Cali, who was one year younger than him. Both boys were skilled with gathering information on anyone they wished to know anything about, they could disappear into the shadows, and only someone who knew what to look for could find them, they were not the best fighters but they made up for that, using their techniques to garner meals and clothing for everyone in the group, they were masters at technology and how to crack it, alarm systems were sport, and they loved wreaking havoc on them. Cali fell in with Darla, mostly she would gather things they would all need, and she would get them with not too much hassle, she always told the younger ones that it was because she was good with bargaining, she truly was, she just didn't want them to know what it was she was bargaining with, though at one point or another, they'd all gone through the same thing, though no one ever talked of it, they all knew what every one in the group had been forced to do for money.

Coming out of his daze he noticed that, in a silent gesture of comfort, Scout had taken his hand in hers.. He relaxed and his smile returned, and in silent agreement they rushed to catch up to Chaz who had been a block ahead of them throughout the whole conversation and was just now slipping inside their new hideout; the place they would call home for the next few months. With a small smile and a mocking bow Raven held the plank of wood covering the entrance open for her and, smiling in relief, with a twinkle of amusement shining in her eyes for his antics Scout entered, glad she had gotten his good mood back so quickly.

A/N: for those of you who are wondering I will not explain the notches until the sequel. I have a plan for them and I think it's a good way to explain it. If anyone wants to guess where I got the idea they're welcome to. (Hint: I got it from a movie) you have time to guess I think I'll bring it up half-way through his first year. I'm going to try and have this story finished in six chapters, ending when he passes through the train barrier. ( I have up 'till he's eleven typed and waiting to be updated, just reviewing and shanging it now)