Disclaimer – I still do not own the Teen Titans. Or Harry Potter for that matter.

…

At six years old, Raven had experienced both too much and not enough of the world around her. She was a quiet girl, silenced early on by an alcoholic father with a deep streak of mean and fists freed by alcohol. It was only six months ago that he had left. Raven had not been entirely sure what happened to her father; only that her mother had entered Raven's room without knocking, lifted her into her arms and hugged her tightly. "Everything's gonna be okay now," she had whispered into Raven's hair. "He can't hurt us anymore."

Then came the doctor visits. Dr. Adams was a nice enough woman, but Raven had never liked strangers. Especially strangers that sat you down on a too-soft couch and asked you talk about deeply buried secrets. At first, Raven's mother had sat in the room with her, filling in her daughter's silences with stories of Raven's father's temper and how she had never been able to send Raven to public school. Eventually though, Dr. Adams took her mother aside and spoke in hushed, measured tones. After that, Raven sat on that couch alone, her mother promising that she would be right outside.

Raven wasn't a talkative child. The psychiatrist's questions were mostly answered in a series of hesitative nods and shakes of her small head. One day, she asked Raven a question the child did not entirely understand.

"Raven," she had said, her dark blue eyes focused intensely on Raven's face. Raven had been studying her hands – neatly folded in her lap – but looked up when the doctor spoke her name. "Do you have any friends?"

The word was foreign. Raven creased her eyebrows. "F…friends?" Her tongue rolled the word around her lips. Raven loved to read, she had been reading since the age of four. Often times that word appeared, usually pertaining to two characters with a close bond.

"Yes, dear," Dr. Adams smiled. "Friends. Girls on your street perhaps?"

Girls on her street? There weren't very many. And they mostly stuck to themselves. Raven generally stayed in her room, watching them out the window. But as soon as Raven stepped outside to join them, they pulled back, whispering, and ran away.

"No," she answered quietly. "I don't think so."

Dr. Adam's face softened into an expression Raven knew well – pity. She had seen it on her neighbors' faces before they shut their curtains on her father's bad nights. She had seen it on strangers' faces when she and her mother went out to get groceries, their eyes lingering on barely covered bruises. It was an expression she loathed.

After that session, her mother and Dr. Adams had had yet another hushed discussion. Raven had sat waiting in one of the lobby chairs, knees drawn up to her chin. She was alone. The ring of the tiny bell on the door signified another person entering. Raven looked over, pushing a strand of black hair behind her ear as she did so. It was a tall, beautiful brown-haired woman, her hand tightly clenched in that of a little boy's. They sat across the room from her, the woman immediately picking up a magazine. The boy, who looked to be about Raven's age, swung his short legs off the edge of the chair. He had blonde hair that stuck up in random tufts and eyes the color of pine needles. The boy was looking around the room, fidgeting as though he couldn't keep still. He put a hand in his mouth and absently chewed it.

Raven watched the child with fascination. She had never seen this boy before. Occasionally, she saw a little red-haired girl who chittered in a different language to her father. Her sessions were before Raven's, and sometimes they crossed paths. The little girl said a heavily accented 'hello' whenever she made eye contact, but Raven never returned the greeting.

The woman with the little boy, presumably his mother, glanced over at her boy and gently pulled his hand out of his mouth. She murmured something that Raven didn't catch, and the boy made a whining sound. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and pursed his lips. While doing this, his green eyes caught Raven's. Instinctively, she looked down into her lap, overwhelmed by shyness.

At that moment she was saved by her mother and Dr. Adams coming into the room. Raven hopped off the chair and stepped over to her mother, trying with all of her might not to look at the little blonde boy. Raven's mother's brow was furrowed deeply, and her violet eyes – exactly the same shade as her daughter's – were swimming with worry. Raven grasped her mother's hand, keeping her eyes on her blue tennis shoes.

"Remember what I said, Arella," Dr. Adams said. "I think this will be a good experience for both of you."

"Thank you, Dr. Adams," Raven's mother murmured. She was grasping her daughter's hand very tightly. While her mother led the way out, Raven glanced back. The little blonde boy was watching her, his large eyes wide with curiosity. As the door began to close, he raised his hand in a wave.

"Come on, Raven," her mother said. Raven wrenched her gaze from the now closed door and followed her mother into the parking lot.

…

On the car ride home, while Raven sat picking at the strings on her booster seat, her mother explained to her that Dr. Adams thought it was a good idea to enroll Raven in the local elementary school. Raven had accepted this with silence, but clenched her hands into fists. School was another word she often saw in her books but, like friends, she had never experienced it. Her mother had taught her how to read and write and basic math and science, but the social aspect of her developing years had been severely neglected. Raven was terrified.

The next few days were a blur of phone calls and shopping for new items such as a backpack and new clothes. Raven wasn't really one for shopping – she mostly just agreed with whatever her mother dressed her in. Her mother insisted she pick out a backpack, so Raven pulled a plain dark blue one off of the shelf. Blue was her favorite color.

On Wednesday, her mother woke Raven and informed her that today was to be her first day at school. She dressed the girl in her new outfit – an uncomfortably puffy yellow dress that Raven had not been all that excited about. Her mother brushed out Raven's short jet black hair and clipped it back with a tiny yellow bow. Raven tied her own shoes – something she was very proud of.

After breakfast, she was bundled into the car along with her backpack – which was filled with various art materials and a few notebooks. Raven had snuck in the current book she was reading, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, even though her mother had insisted that Raven try and make friends with the other kids. Her mother should have known that if Raven rarely talked at home, she probably would not be speaking at a strange new place to complete strangers.

Crawley Elementary was a large, singular building that reminded onlookers vaguely of a prison. Raven stared out the car window at this new place of entrapment and felt her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Here we are," her mother murmured. She looked just as nervous as Raven, knuckles white against the steering wheel. She parked the car, and then walked her daughter into the main entrance. Raven clutched her mother's fingers extremely tight. The other hand took hold of her backpack strap.

The main office, directly adjacent to the entrance, was a mazelike area partitioned off from the hallway by panes of glass. Each pane was decorated with art from each grade. Raven eyed a glittery pink horse next to the door.

Her mother pushed it open and brought Raven inside. Sitting at the desk in front of them was a mousy-looking woman whose brown hair was pulled back in a severe bun. Raven tugged at a strand of her own hair, suddenly wishing she had spent more time on it that morning.

"How can I help you?" the woman chirped. Her smile was huge and bright, and Raven ducked behind her mother's legs.

"Hello," her mother said after a moment. She seemed flustered. "My daughter, Raven Roth, is starting school here today."

The receptionist's bright eyes flicked to Raven, who pulled herself further away from the wax-like face. "Oh, how cute! What grade is she in?"

"First," her mother murmured. The receptionist nodded and spun her chair to face a file cabinet. Raven let out a breath of relief. She didn't like that empty smile. While the woman was going through some papers, Raven glanced around the office. There were closed doors all around her, each with a tiny plaque announcing who was inside, such as Principal and Nurse.

"Here we are!" The receptionist's high pitched voice made Raven's head snap back around. The woman had separated out two stacks of paper. She ran a finger down a list of names. "It says here that Raven will be in Mr. Richard's class." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the door behind them opened. Raven spun around to face a boy who was a little bit older than her. He had dark skin and a bald scalp. Gray eyes glittered beneath thick eyebrows. He was a tall boy, and would probably grow into a huge man. It took Raven a moment to realize that the boy had a prosthetic leg.

He limped up to the reception desk and handed a sheet of paper up to the woman. "Here ya go, Miss Klein!" he smirked.

"Oh, thank you, Victor!" she smiled. "You're always the first one up here with the attendance sheet. You're a little speedster!"

Victor puffed out his chest with pride. Miss Klein returned her attention to Raven. "Raven, this is Victor. Victor, this is our new student, Raven." Victor turned to Raven, giving her a big wave.

"Hi!" he exclaimed. "I'm in third grade! What grade are you in?"

Raven swallowed and looked at her feet. "First," she whispered. She tried not to look at his prosthetic.

"Victor," Miss Klein continued. "Will you take Raven to Mr. Richard's class?"

"Yeah!" Victor smiled again, his teeth a bright white against his chocolate lips. Raven's mother looked as though she were about to object, but Miss Klein interrupted with a flick of her hand.

"You have papers to fill out, Miss Roth," she explained. "And Victor knows his way around the school – he is Mr. Blood's representative." Raven's mother still looked worried, but she let Raven go.

"Have a good day," she murmured, kneeling beside her daughter. "I'll be here to pick you up after school is over." Raven nodded absently, feeling absolutely overwhelmed.

Victor grabbed onto Raven's hand. Immediately, she slipped it back out of his grasp. He gave an exasperated sigh.

"First graders have to hold hands when they're walking without a teacher," he explained. Again, he took hold of Raven's hand. This time, she didn't take it away. His hand loosely enveloped hers, as though he wasn't particularly interested in her touch – or was mildly disgusted by her.

As Victor pulled her out the door, Raven watched as her mother waved. Her eyes were sad, and Raven wanted to shake off the third grader's grip and run back to her mother. But she could only watch as she turned a corner and her mother faded from view.

"Was that your momma?" Victor asked. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, but his full lips had quirked into a smile.

"Yes," Raven answered. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and let her eyes trail over the murals that adorned the hallways.

"You guys look just like each other," Victor commented. A silence fell over them. Raven soon got used to Victor's lurching gate; despite his handicap he walked rather quickly.

Eventually, the two came upon a door that was adorned with ducklings, all of which had names carefully written in sharpie on their wings. "This is Mr. Richard's room," Victor explained. "He's kinda weird, but also sorta funny." He shrugged, and let go of her hand. "I gotta go back to Mr. Blood's room. Seeya, Raven!" And with that, Victor took off down the hallway at a half-run. She briefly wondered what had happened to his leg.

Swallowing her nervousness, Raven tapped on the door. It was quiet for a moment, and then it swung open to reveal a thin man with red hair and narrow glasses. He knelt down on one knee in front of her, immediately becoming eye-to-eye. Behind this man were about twenty other young faces, all peering curiously at the newcomer.

"'Ello there, little one." His voice was thickly accented. Raven identified it as British. "And who might you be?"

"Raven," she mumbled. This man was leaning much too close to her. "I'm new."

The man smiled knowingly and stood, using one hand to gently lead Raven into the room. "My dear little duckies," he began, addressing the room. "We have a new student." The classroom remained silent, all of the children watching Raven with mild interest in their eyes. "Don't be shy," the man said to her. "We don't bite." Raven watched a boy in the front row, who was gnawing distractedly on a pencil, and decided she begged to differ.

The man, who introduced himself as Mr. Richard, guided Raven over to an empty spot at a table cluster. There were about six separate clusters of desks, each with four or five students. The one Raven was seated at had three other students. She didn't really look at them at first – really, she only looked at the floor. But when she was comfortably seated and Mr. Richards returned to the front of the classroom to continue his explanation of African herbivores, she glanced up and was shocked to realize she recognized the child sitting across from her.

It was the blonde boy from Dr. Adams' office. Currently, the child was watching the board with rapt attention, his green eyes bright with interest. Raven immediately felt nervous. What if he tried to talk to her again? Next to her sat a girl with jet black hair and skin nearly as pale as Raven's. She didn't seem as interested in the discussion, and was picking absently at a red-painted nail. Diagonal to Raven was an Asian girl who was playing with her long black braid. She also did not seem to be paying much attention.

"Alright." Mr. Richard clapped his hands together, snapping Raven's attention back to him. "Can anyone tell me why a giraffe's neck is so long?"

Immediately, the blonde boy's hand shot up. The eagerness to answer the question was obvious in the child's gap-toothed smile. He was practically falling out of his seat. To Raven's surprise, Mr. Richard did not immediately call on the child. Instead, his brown eyes flickered around the rest of the room, which remained silent. A few kids shrugged. "Anyone else?" he added hopefully. When no one answered his plea, Mr. Richard sighed and gave in. "Garfield?"

"Giraffe's necks are so long cuz they need to reach the tippy tops of the trees and eat the leaves!" the boy, apparently Garfield, answered loudly. "Giraffes only have seven bones in their neck. I thought they had, like, ten thousand!" His voice was high and excited, as though he could talk about giraffes all day. Apparently he could, because Mr. Richard raised his hand just as Garfield opened his mouth to blurt some new giraffe-related fact.

"Thank you, Garfield," Mr. Richard cut in. "How very interesting. Now about other fun looking plant-eaters of the African Serengeti…"

This continued for quite a while: Mr. Richard trying to involve the class into the wonderful world of African animals, with Garfield answering every single question with a knowledge rivaling the encyclopedia. This boy seemed to know everything there was to know about animals. The class had just started getting into predators when the bell rang for recess. The door at the other end of the room led out to a playground, as Raven discovered.

She walked out slowly after the rest of the class, Harry Potter book under her arm. Mr. Richard was erasing the board, glasses falling down his thin nose. Raven spared him one more glance before going out onto the playground.

The area was buzzing with children – the first, second, and third graders by the looks of it. Squinting her eyes, Raven could see another playground in the distance – one that swarmed with fourth and fifth graders. A few adults milled around her, keeping sharp eyes on the children. The amount of kids around Raven was suffocating. Trying to get away, she ran to one end of the playground, where less children puttered to and fro.

Raven sat down in the grass and crossed her legs. Letting out a sigh, she opened her book to a dog-eared page and began to read:

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to

"What's that?"

Raven's eyes shot up from the pages of her book. In front of her was a group of children. The one who had spoken was a girl of about her age, who had pink stripes dyed into her blonde pigtails. Behind her were four others – a dark-skinned boy with thick glasses, an older, fatter boy with badly cut orange hair, a boy with an explosion of freckles and crooked teeth, and a serious-looking boy with jet black hair that covered half of his face. They were all watching her with dark eyes and quirked lips – as if they had something collectively planned.

"It's a book," Raven answered. Something did not feel right about these children. The girl rolled her eyes and snatched it out of Raven's small hands.

"I know it's a book, stupid," the girl snapped. She flipped through the pages, a sneer pulling her lip. "What are you doing reading? This is supposed to be recess, not school."

"Yeah," chirped in the glasses-wearer. "Weirdo!" The rest of the children burst into cruel laughter. Raven cringed away from them. Why were these children so mean?

"Here," the girl sneered. "We'll help you have fun. But first, this book has to go." Raven watched with tears welling in her eyes as the girl handed her precious storybook to the largest boy. "Baran, let's teach book girl how to have real fun." The boy giggled mischievously, taking the book from the girl's hands. Like a choreographed act, the rest of the kids in the group formed a wall behind Baran and Raven. She knew it was to make sure that the adults watching the children didn't see.

"Books are dumb," Baran grunted. Before Raven could object, he threw the book to the ground and stomped on it, driving the delicate pages into the dirt. Raven watched him deface her book, feeling helpless to its damage. The children laughed.

"Hey!" At the sound of the voice, all six of them turned. Walking towards them, head held high, was the blonde boy. Garfield. "You guys need to stop bullying her." Raven was frozen in shock. Garfield stepped in front of her, as if to protect her. Raven thought it was pointless; every single one of the bullies had at least three inches on the child.

"Oh, yeah?" the girl snapped, stepping forward to lean into Garfield's face. "What are you gonna do about it, beast boy?" Apparently, this nickname was a taunt, as the rest of the kids giggled meanly. Garfield however, seemed unfazed.

"I'll tell," he said slowly. The amused expression dropped from the group's faces, to be replaced by varying levels of anger and guilt.

"You wouldn't," the girl hissed, incredulous. Garfield crossed his arms, a smirk on his round face.

"Try me," he said lightly. All five of the kids exchanged looks, and then grimly backed off.

"Fine!" the girl snapped. "See how I care. You two freaks can hang out in freakville together!" With that, she stomped off, posse in tow. Baran gave the Harry Potter novel one last kick before following her.

Garfield smiled triumphantly and turned to face Raven. "Jennifer thinks she's older. Like ten. That's why she's so mean."

Raven nodded, blushing. This stranger had come and rescued her. Why?

Garfield was bending over the book. He picked it up and inspected it. It was crinkled and a little muddy. He used his t-shirt to wipe it off, attempted to smooth it, and handed it back to her. "There ya go!" Raven took the book and held it tightly to her chest, afraid someone else might take it away.

"Thank you," she murmured. Garfield smiled his gap-toothed grin.

"Your name's Raven, right?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yeah," she answered. She wished he would leave her be.

"I'm Garfield!" When this didn't warrant a reply, he attempted explaining it to her. "You know…like the cat!"

"I know," she said quietly. Garfield nodded happily, his blonde hair flopping into his face. Suddenly, a memory sparked in his green eyes.

"Hey! Don't you go to Dr. Adams?"

Raven tensed. So he had remembered. "Yes," she answered carefully.

Garfield bounced up and down on his toes. The smile had not left his face for one second. "Will you be my friend, Raven?" he asked.

Raven was silent for a moment. A friend? Like what she had read in her stories? She looked at Garfield. He was waiting for an answer, rocking on his heels and letting his arms swing around. His blonde hair was sticking up in the back, like he hadn't brushed it that morning. No, she had not imagined that her first friend would look like this. But the caring gleam in his emerald eyes was genuine. That was something she had not seen for a very long time.

"Okay."

…

A/N – So this will remain a one-shot unless requested otherwise. I may be convinced into a two- or three-shot. I'm sorry if some characters were a little OOC, but it is AU ;) Double points if you can guess who all of the characters are in the Teen Titans universe! Everyone mentioned is a character except for Dr. Adams and the receptionist, who are OC's. Hope you enjoyed!