Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (duh) or Batman.

Warnings: Language, Violence

And here we go again: The next chapter to 'A Joker's Fun'. AN at the end of the chapter.

Sometimes, being a hero is not enough.

###

The inevitable meeting with the Dursleys had been just what Harry expected it to be; 'Go into the cupboard boy', 'Unthankful brat', 'No dinner', 'Useless' etc.. It always hurt Harry to hear such things, even if he told himself it didn't. He may be able to ignore the words, but their cold glares sometimes haunted him until deep into the night.

They didn't check Harry's back, as Harry expected them not to and so didn't find his treasure. And while Dudley was upstairs in his room and his aunt and uncle in the living-room, watching TV, Harry took an old grey shirt from under his cot and placed it right in front of the small slits in the door, securing it with some duct tape. He then pot another piece of cloth in front of the slit under the door, so when he turned on the single, naked light bulb, no one would notice it from the outside.

He took out the comic and began reading it; it was called 'Mad Love'. After he finished reading, Harry really didn't know what to feel. The whole concept of being rewarded for good behaviour didn't seem to grasp here.

The Joker, who was everything you shouldn't be (even he could understand that easily), got what he, Harry, wished for more than anything else: Love, someone who loved him despite his obvious flaws and quirks and who would do anything for him.

Harry was jealous of the Joker, but then he thought about today and the anger and hurt he felt lessened until they were only a light throbbing. His life was looking up and he really shouldn't be upset about some story.

He yawned and for the first time noticed how tired he really was. His eyes hurt from reading in the weak light and his body complained about some of his new bruises that he had received today by Dudley and his gang. But for the first time in a long while, it didn't complain about an empty or only barely filled stomach.

After getting rid of both clothes that were in front of the cupboard door, hiding his comic book under the hard mattress of his cot and switching of the light, he laid down on his cot. Harry was asleep before he could really think about anything else.

000

The next day was a Friday and Harry went to school without having done any of his assigned homework. But he really couldn't care less. He didn't like his teacher anyway, the man was often unfair and mean to all children and looked stupid with his wig.

As he went on and on about the importance of homework and the bad work ethic of today's youth, Harry blended him out. He was trying to decide if he should go to the shop again. He didn't want to seem too eager or annoying and maybe Michael wouldn't even be there at all. Aunt Petunia didn't give him any lunch or lunch money for today as punishment for his late arrival yesterday and the not done chores and he wasn't to keen of walking to hours for nothing, but an empty stomach and more trouble at home.

Harry was worried that Michael had already forgotten him and their meeting yesterday. He probably thought that Harry was stupid and was just too polite to send him away yesterday. Maybe…

When the lunch break came around, Harry was a nervous wreck and still didn't know what to do when the school would finally end. He doubted himself, then Michael, than chastised himself for insulted the nice man's intentions and words, even if it was only in his head, then worried about the reactions of his relative and then start the same circle again.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the absence of Dudley's gang, that were momentary preoccupied with another boy, nor did he notice his grumbling stomach.

After the last two periods and the realising sound of the final bell, Harry had come to a decision. If he didn't go today, he would think about the possibility of Michael waiting for him all weekend and so he turned towards the direction of the shop, ignoring the still waiting school bus.

Half an hour later, Harry reached the entrance of the shop, took a deep breath and entered it. Monica was at the same place as last time, reading another magazine and only shortly looking up after she heard the doorbell before turning back to her reading.

He let his eyes wander over the other customers and his heart fell as he noticed the absence of Michael. He went to the same shelf as yesterday, he didn't really want to block the door all day and maybe, just maybe Michael had to work a little bit longer and that was the reason why he wasn't here now. Harry was earlier today than yesterday, so maybe he just had to wait a few more minutes.

He turned towards the shelf and began to brows through the issues there, now with far more knowledge about the whole story than yesterday and with far more interest. Another issue caught his eye and he began to read. At first he just wanted to distract himself from the nervous anticipation he felt, but only five pages later, he was engrossed into the story.

It was another story with the Joker and Harley Quinn, 'The laughing fish' and it was quite funny. More than once had Harry to remember himself to not laugh aloud as to not attract any unwanted attention to himself.

This was the picture that greeted Michael Winchester when he entered the shop. It took him only one second to absorb the picture in front of him, then another one for the gleeful smile to form on his face. He walked slowly up to Harry, who still hadn't noticed his presence, until he stood right behind him.

Than he tipped him on the shoulder, just like yesterday, but this time, he was more than ready for Harry's reaction. He caught Harry before the boy would fall into the shelf and then laughed at the irritated glare he received.

As Harry turned around to see the culprit of the whole situation and to tell him or her that he hated it to be startled, he caught sight of Michael and an involuntary smile made itself visible on his face, which rendered his annoyed glare pretty useless.

"So we meet again young Padawan."

Harry just stared at Michael, not understanding what that statement meant besides the obvious. Michael, seeing the no comprehension just sighed and said:

"We really have to get you up to standard here. Padawan is a term for pupil, taken from 'Star Wars'."

Suddenly Harry understood the statement and grinned. If Michael called him a student, he was going to teach him something, which meant he didn't intend to forget Harry anytime soon. A warm and fuzzy feeling made itself known in Harry's stomach.

000

It was an unlikely bond that both of them shared. They would talk about a topic for hours a Harry started to say more in those conversations. Michael would show Harry a comic, a book or a movie and then would begin to talk about it with Harry listening to the man. Then Harry would read it or they would watch it in Michael's flat, which was only a fifteen minute walk away from Harry's school and add his own thought to Michael's.

They never really talked about they past or their life, just that Michael worked in some kind of firm as an adviser and that he lived alone since his wife left him. Harry told him that he lived with his aunt and uncle, because of a car accident in which his parents died. Michael was very sympatric and told Harry that his own parent died the same way a few years back. Since this talk they stayed on more happy topics.

Harry talked with the Dursley's and told them, that he was part of a group for a school project and had to stay longer in school. They never showed any interest in what kind of group this was or why Harry sometimes only came back when it was already dark outside. Most of his chores he had to do on the weekends, but Harry could hardly care less about that.

He never mentioned Michael, nor did he mention the Dursleys to Michael. He didn't want to lie to his friend, the Dursleys he had no problems with, but not Michael.

They fell into an easy rhythm, meeting three or four time a week in the comic shop, at Michaels flat or somewhere else and having a good time together. Michael sometimes helped Harry with his schoolwork and Harry helped Michael to organize his different collections.

Then, nearly two month after their first meeting, Michael asked Harry if he had time on one of the following weekends and to Harry's great delight he could make the next weekend free.

On the next Saturday morning, Harry and Michael met again to celebrate their friendship, even if it was only for two month. Michael was the honest opinion that he just had to celebrate this day with Harry in some way and Harry was far to touched to disagree

If Harry was honest with himself, he thought Michael just needed a reason for celebrating something without Harry feeling bad for accepting said man's kindness.

The Dursleys believed Harry to spend the weekend with Mrs Figg while they visited Vernon's sister Marge. Mrs Figg had no idea and Harry wasn't about to enlighten her. He planned to spend the weekend at Michaels place and wasn't about to blow this chance.

Michael took him to the circus, bought him cotton candy and popcorn and was just the nicest person Harry could imagine. They laughed at the antics of the clowns, fevered with the acrobats and their risky stunts and were amazed by the magic tricks of the magician.

After that, they went to a Restaurant near the Thames and had a hearty lunch, while planning for the rest of the day. Next they went to the Zoo and Harry was amazed by all the different kind of animals that could be seen there. The Dursleys never took him to a zoo before, but even if they had, it probably would never have been as funny as with Michael.

He commented just about everything they saw, made funny voices while saying things that he thought the animals were thinking and all in all behaved like someone half his age or younger. When Harry tried to imagine uncle Vernon doing these kinds of things, he had to be steadied by Michael or he had fallen over because he was laughing so hard. Michael just shrugged and laughed with him.

They had some ice-cream, but didn't make it into the reptilian house before the zoo closed. To end the day on a high note, they went to a fast food restaurant for dinner and when they left it with their full bellies, Michael turned to Harry, telling him he had one more surprise for the boy.

"Michael, I really appreciate what you do for me, but I can't accept more from you. You are far too nice to me and the day was perfect, you don't need to give me anything."

"Ah, don't you worry Harry; I live all alone and earn too much money to just spend it all for myself. If I want to spend it for you than I will very well do and nothing you can do will stop me. I had at least as much fun as you did today and all thanks to you. You have no idea how boring it can be to go somewhere alone. I always wished to have a son, but sadly it wasn't to be, but if I had one, I like to imagine he would be just like you. So please do an old man this favour and let him have his fantasy."

While talking they had started to walk back to they car, which was still a good walk away, but as Harry heard those words he suddenly stopped and looked at the man right next to him with wide eyes.

Here was someone who wanted Harry to be a part of his family. Harry had dreamed about a long lost relative or someone else coming and taking him away from the Dursleys, because he was wanted by them.

But he had long ago given up on those hopes, the Dursley's words of him being a burden subconsciously altering his own view of himself, making him slowly but surly feel bad and unwanted by everyone, even dream persons.

And here was Michael, not adopting him or taking him away from the Dursleys, but wanting him, liking him and maybe, sometime in the future, loving him. Harry couldn't remember a time where he felt this happy and he did the only thing he could think of to express this happiness; he hugged Michael, who had stopped when Harry stopped walking, with all his strength.

Michael looked down at the unruly mob of black hair and hugged the child back. His growing suspicions about Harry's home life only strengthen his hold. He hoped dearly that he was seeing things that weren't there. He would watch Harry a little bit more and maybe even ask him in the future before he did anything rash. For now he would just enjoy the moment.

But like everything, even this moment had to end and all too soon both reluctantly ended the hug and started again to walk. Michael loosened his backpack and held it up for Harry to see.

"I've got the present here, do you want it now or do you want to wait until we reach the car and have more peace?"

And though Harry really wanted to know what this present was, he declined to open it right away. He wanted to enjoy the moment and not be rushed by all those people on the sidewalk bumping into them.

Michael then gestured Harry to follow him and turned into a side street, claiming to know a shortcut. Harry simply followed curiosity slowly eating away at him and only too happy to get faster to the car.

The street was narrower and not as well lit as the one they had just left, but it was also less crowded and Harry was thankful for that. They walked in silence for about five minutes, the streets were getting darker and dirtier with every step they took and Harry began to get nervous. The people they saw weren't comforting either.

Just as Harry wanted to voice his concern and discomfort to men came up to them. The first was very tall, but not skinny. He had black hair that stood up in spikes and many silver loops and studs in his face and ears. His clothes were ripped at some parts and seemed in dire need of water and soap.

The second one was shorter than the first one, but what he didn't have in height he made more than up for in width and while he didn't seem to wear a whole jeweller's shop's good in his face, he wasn't more pleasant than his companion. It looked like he wanted to keep a reminder of every meal he had on his clothes in form of stains and it didn't look like he started the hobby just last week.

Both of them blocked they path and as Harry looked around for another way around those two, he noticed that there weren't any other people in sight.

Harry swallowed hard. He could very well imagine some boys from Dudley's gang to look like those two in a few years and that didn't comfort him in the slightest.

Michael's thoughts seemed to go in similar directions, for the muscles in his neck and shoulders began to tense and his gaze wandered from one man to the other and then over their surroundings.

"Hello there, we just want to ask you something, so no need to get all worried there." said the taller one with a smile on his face that didn't help the credibility of his words.

"And what would that be?" was Michael's reply. No trace of a smile in his words, only wariness and a hint of determination.

"If you want to know so badly, my friend and I here are in need of some money and it would be really nice if you could help us out there."

As the taller one spoke, was Michael using the time to slowly inch in front of Harry, while never looking away from those two. The smaller one seemed to find this hilarious for some reason for he suddenly started laughing.

"You don't have to get all protective, just give us your backpack and everything else that his worth something and you can be on your merry way again."

There trace of humour was from his voice and the man's hand was slowly reaching into the pocket of his jacket.

This seemed to be enough for Michael to spin around while screaming for Harry to run and hide. Harry didn't have to be told twice and he started to run into the next street, which sadly proved to be a bad decision, it was a dead end.

The fat one, who despite his weight was pretty fast caught him and gripped his right arm into a vice like grip. He held Harry until his partner came to them with Michael at gun point, he than continued by throwing Harry with far more force than necessary against the wall of the dead end. The crack of Harry's wrist was audible to the silence of the back alley and Harry had to stifle a small cry as tears began to fall, not only because of the pain, but also out of fear.

Michael began to protest against their captors and their violent treatment of a small child, but while one just continued to hold the weapon and the started to laugh again, his words fell on deaf ears. He began to go in Harry's direction when the tall one suddenly ordered him to stop.

"I want to check up on him, I don't want to fight, you have one, please, just leave us alone!" pleaded Michael with the men while grabbing his backpack, planning to give it to them.

But he didn't get to hand the backpack over, for the man with the gun seemed to perceive this action as a thread and pulled the trigger.

A loud shoot echoed in the streets, drowning every other noise. A loud thud followed, than only a gurgling sound and the sound of liquid hitting the ground.

Harry stared with wide eyes as blood flowed out of Michael's neck, drenching the ground and painting it red. One of his hands pressed onto his neck, as if trying to stop the bleeding, but it was like stopping a river with just one hand, useless.

The noises that Michael made were horrible, a gurgling wet coughing and then a loud rattle before his boy stilled. All three people present stared at the now dead body.

"Well, I guess he isn't going to stand up anymore."

In that second, something in Harry broke. He felt all the anger of being treated poorly and unfair, of being pushed around, yelled at and hurt, the bottled up hurt of being shunned and ignored and his fear of being alone and hated. All those feelings, dark memories and the whole situation were too much for Harry. He wasn't terrified anymore of the men in front of him, he was livid and someone would have to pay.

He ignored the pain in his hand, used it only to fuel the growing darkness of his emotions. The sadness he felt by the loss of Michael, who only wanted to make him happy and protect him, was drowned in those emotions and twisted into something unrecognizably ugly. The want, no need for revenge was the only conscious thought on Harry's mind at this moment and he relished in it, embraced it.

As if to answer his call for revenge and retribution, Harry felt something warm and tingling in his arms, legs, chest, everywhere in his body. And without thinking he knew he had the power to carry his plans out. There was no fear, pain or doubt anymore, just power and thirst revenge and it felt glorious.

All this happened in the span of maybe three seconds and the aggressors in front of Harry didn't seem to have noticed any change in him. They laughed at still form of Michael, blood still spilling of the wound in his neck, but far slower than just a minute before. They clapped each other on the back as if they had just won a game of football or something equally mundane. There was no remorse for the life they had just ended in they posture, for all the grief and pain they had just caused with simply pulling the trigger.

Harry took two steps away from the wall, which just a few minutes ago served as a prison, then as a crutch. His hair fell into his face, concealing his expression, while he looked down onto the out bleeding corpse of his first and best friend, maybe even father in a future that would now never take place. His saviour and protector, squashed like an ugly bug by his feet, his blood still glittering on Harry's small form, running down his face.

The fat one nudged his partner in the side and pointed toward Harry, still grinning like a loon, his form shaking from occasional fits of giggling.

"Hey Sam, look, the kid wants to play, too."

Sam, obviously the leader of the duo, pushed his partner away from himself as he started to lean on him for support from another fit of laughter. The fat one seemed to find this even more hilarious, even as he landed on his ass and into the still growing puddle of fresh blood on the ground. The other one shook his head in disgust now.

"You had too much Billy, how much of this stuff did you take?"

As answer Billy just laughed some more and shrugged with his shoulder, seemingly content to sit on the wet ground and staying there. The last seconds seemed to have sobered Sam somewhat from whatever trip it was that he was on. He looked down at the cooling corpse and then in the direction where Harry stood. A small sigh escaped his lips and the next words were said with something akin to regret.

"Sorry there kid, but I ain't going back to prison for this shit. Maybe you'll see you Daddy on the other side. Probably better than letting you here anyway. Should have made no trouble, his fault, not mine. Better for us all..."

He seemed to try to convince himself more than Harry as he lifted the gun and pointed it in Harry's direction. The boy showed no sigh that he had heard anything the man had said or anything at all for the matter.

'Probably in shock, he won't even notice anything wrong or pain. A fast pang and everything is over'

These were Sam's thoughts as he pulled the trigger.

***

Michael Henry Winchester, Samuel 'Sam' Jason Harper and William 'Billy' Jackson died in the night of the 26th September, 1998. All three died in a back alley in London and all three and now living blood family.

Michael's parents were dead since a car accident that killed them five years ago; he was an only child and never had any children. He was shoot in the neck and died of severe blood lost only a few minutes later.

Sam never knew his father and his mother died when he was only 15. The cause was an overdose of heroin. His older brother was killed only three month later in some kind of deal that had gone wrong. He didn't have any children, at least that he knew of. He was killed by a shoot in the head just like his brother was all these years ago, it looked like suicide.

Billy never met either his father or his mother; he grew up in different foster families, but never stayed for too long. If he has any siblings, he doesn't know about them. He was killed by two bullets to the chest. One hit his left lung, the other shattered his collarbone; he drowned in his own blood. It looked like his partner shot him after killing another man.

The police found the corpses in the early morning of the 27th September. They investigated and reached the conclusion that this was a robbery gone wrong. Samuel Jason Harper and William Jackson were known criminals and the blood test showed that both were full with drugs before they died. Samuel Harper seemed to have gone mad after shooting Michael Henry Winchester and killed his partner and then himself.

They never found any trace of another person in the alley that night and the case was close only two days after the incident.

###

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; it was/is very hard for me to write Harry changing from what he was in canon at this time to what I want him to be like without it being totally ridicules. Far more actions then in the last chapter and a huge development in the character department.

I feel sorry for Michael, but he had to go for Harry to grow and change.

If you have problems with Harry's sometimes very screwed sense of logic, bear in mind that he is just a child and wasn't raised properly. What seems stupid to us can be absolutely understandable for him.

Next chapter will have more dialogue in it and maybe some more action.

I would be very happy to get some kind of response for this chapter/story or my idea in general from you. Please review

Until the next time, bye!

A.I.W.