Siren Song - Chapter 1

Content Warnings: Harry x Raven (from DC) Story.

Chapter 1: Raven

The dark forest was oppressive. The screams had faded away, leaving behind an unsettling silence. She had no problem navigating in the darkness, her eyesight functioning as well as it did in a well-lit room. The silence was not a big concern for her either. It was the absence of her handler and the lack of the now–familiar cuffs around her wrists that worried her. She did not recall a time she had spent this long unattended. 

The darkness clawed at the back of her mind. If there was a time she had been free of it, she did not remember it. The cuffs helped; she subconsciously reached down and rubbed the raw skin of her right wrist. She never thought a day would come when she’d miss them. The physical pain associated with them was a small price to pay in return for the damned voice in her head shutting up. She had not missed the whispers. They were stronger than ever before, and she knew that the darkness had feasted on the misery, pain, and fear spread by the hooded figures back at the camp.

A bespectacled man searching for something on the forest floor provided a welcome distraction. He was a few feet away from her, his face inches from the rich brown soil as he patted the ground around him. He was either far too busy to notice her or simply did not possess the vision to see her in such darkness.

“Have you lost something?” Raven called out, walking closer in the hopes that he would lead her back to civilisation. 

“Yeah, my wand,” the man responded, relaxing once he looked up and realised she wasn’t a threat. 

Raven wondered if he was running from the hooded figures as well. There was no telling how far she’d gotten. 

“I’m Harry, by the way,” Harry added. “Are you trying to find something as well?”

“I was trying to get away from those hooded figures-”

“Smart choice,” Harry muttered.

“I lost my way. So, I guess I’m trying to find a way back to camp.”

“Sorry, I can’t help you there. I got separated from my friends and lost my wand. I have no idea where I am and no way to find out. Can’t you just do a locator spell and figure out where we are? It’ll save us both a lot of trouble.”

“I’m sorry, I left my wand back in my tent,”  Raven lied. “I’m not really good at magic anyway.”

“Well, I guess we’re stuck here until someone finds us. Running around a dark forest with Death Eaters on the loose is not my idea of fun, so I’m going to stay put. You’re welcome to keep me company,” Harry offered. He sat down, using the trunk of the closest tree as support. 

“Thanks.” Raven copied his action, sitting under the tree to his left. 

“What’d you think of the match?”

“No thoughts, to be honest. One team won, the other lost.” Raven shrugged. “I’m not the biggest Quidditch fan. I’m here because my-” she paused, “-guardian is closely associated with the Bulgarian team.”

“My mate would have lost it if he were here. He practically worships Viktor Krum.”

Raven responded with a bland smile, “He’s alright. Mostly keeps to himself. I don’t really know him that well.”

“What about you?” Harry asked after staying silent for a few seconds. “You said you don’t enjoy Quidditch. What do you like?”

Raven raised an eyebrow in surprise. She had never met a man who willingly stopped talking to her about Viktor Krum once the topic was brought up, in all her three years of travelling with the team. 

“Books, I guess.” Raven rested against the rough bark and closed her eyes. The throbbing behind them pulsed harder, echoing in her skull. “I, uh, I don’t get out a lot.” Without realising it, she tilted closer, trying to absorb the quiet steadiness that surrounded him. Despite the undercurrent of tension she detected, he was remarkably put together, given the situation they were in. She envied him. “You’re not scared,” she added, unable to help herself.

“Not my first rodeo with these bozos,” Harry muttered. He audibly snapped a twig in two. “Besides, I doubt they’d come this far into the forest. They’re having too much fun in the camp.”

Harry had spoken too soon. Raven tilted her head toward the faint snap in the distance, followed by the low murmur of two gruff voices.

“Fucking Aurors.”

“Fucking Malfoy.”

“Things were fine until they showed up,” the first voice shot back. 

“Stop sucking Malfoy’s cock, he isn’t going to give you what you want.”

Raven whipped her head around at the feel of a hand resting on her shoulder. Harry was right behind her, a finger resting on his lips. Waves of tension rolled off him, putting her on edge. 

“We need to move,” he whispered. “Keep your head low and follow me.”

Raven nodded. He had done nothing to harm her, and she sensed no deceit in him. Whoever the men were, something about them clearly unsettled him. 

“Who are they?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m not sticking around to find out.” Harry crouched and began to walk deeper into the forest. He turned when he realised she wasn’t following him. “Come on. They’re part of the group that burned down the camp. We don’t want them finding us.”

Raven nodded, but did not move. Her feet would not cooperate. The whispers in her head were no longer gentle. They urged her to be still, to wait for the men to find her.

“Hey.” Harry crawled over to her. His green eyes searched her face, trying to understand what was wrong. “It’s okay. We’ll figure out a way to get back to our tents.”

“I can’t move,” Raven choked out.

“Why?” 

“I don’t know,” Raven lied again.

Harry reached out and grasped her shoulders. “They’re nearly here. If we don’t leave this clearing, they’re going to find us. Do you want me to carry you?”

Raven heard the quiet crunch of leaves being crushed under a boot directly behind her. A loud whistle immediately followed it.

“What do we have here, Egbert?”

“Go,” Raven sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut. The more she tried to drown out the voices in her head, the louder they grew.

“I’m not leaving you.” Harry nervously flattened his messy black hair over his forehead. He rose and moved around her, positioning himself firmly between her and the men. He was just as nervous as she was, but his voice remained steady when he spoke, “Hello! Just a couple looking for a quiet spot. She twisted her ankle. We don’t want any trouble.”

“Having fun, boy?”

“Until recently, yes,” Harry answered smoothly. “If you give us a minute, we’ll leave.”

“Why?” Egbert asked. “Let’s have fun together.”

Raven squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the voices in her head. Harry did not owe her anything, yet had stuck around to protect her. We cannot let the men take him, she told the voices in her head. 

They mocked her request. Raven gritted her teeth and shut out Harry’s voice, hoping his attempts to get the men to leave would buy her the time she needed. Using every ounce of willpower she possessed, she corralled the voices in her head, subsuming the darkness and power within each for herself. They were in her body, and their power was hers, she reminded them. The final and most resolute voice, the one brimming with power, did not resist. It seemed almost delighted by her decision. She did not have the time to dwell on that particular revelation. The power was impossible to contain. She could already feel her sanity fraying at the seams. She forced the darkness out of her body, the power guided solely by the primal instinct to protect herself and Harry. Her vision blurred, and she collapsed onto the soft forest floor, praying Harry wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

When she regained consciousness, she was lying in a bed, a blanket draped over her. Her neck screamed in complaint when she looked around to study her surroundings. She was in an unfamiliar tent. It was bigger and much more lavishly furnished than her own. Even the bed seemed softer. She tried to get up, immediately giving up as a wave of nausea forced bile into her throat. 

“Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Harry said, rushing through the half-open flaps. He had a pitcher, a bowl, and some towels in his hands. “You’re in my tent.”

“How did I get here?” Raven rasped.

“Well, my friend’s dad found us and I… I carried you back to the camp,” Harry admitted, pink dusting his cheeks. “Mr Weasley didn’t think it was safe to levitate you in a forest.”

“The men?” Raven asked softly.

“Impaled on trees.”

“Dead?”

“Not when we left them,” Harry answered with an unconcerned shrug. “Not good with magic, huh? You basically put the fear of god in those two. They were thankful when the Aurors took them into custody.” Harry pulled a stool close to the bed and sat down on it. He set the bowl and pitcher on the nightstand. Placing a towel in the bowl, he poured water from the pitcher over it.

“My magic is destructive,” Raven muttered. The voices in her head were silent - a small mercy. “You saw what happens when I use it. Nothing good ever comes of it.”

“Well, I’d say us not being tortured and kept as two Death Eaters’ playthings is an excellent outcome.”

“I mutilated them.”

“They do much worse to others,” Harry responded kindly. He placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her attempt to get up. “What’re you doing?”

“I need to find my-” Raven paused, unsure what to call him, “-my guardian.”

“You’re in no condition to go anywhere. You’re burning up,” Harry said. He gently brushed some hair away from her forehead and placed a damp towel over it. “The entire camp is in chaos. The Aurors have imposed a strict curfew, and no one can move freely through it at the moment. Mr Weasley used his connections to get us an early portkey, and he wants you to come home with us. He’ll get in touch with your guardians once things have died down a little.”

“I can’t do that.” Raven stared at the tent’s roof. Why were they being so nice when they’d seen what she could do? “I can’t control my powers. What if I hurt someone?”

“In your current condition, I doubt you can hurt a fly, let alone a house full of competent wizards and witches. We’ll be fine,”  Harry said kindly. 

It was hard not to believe him when she sensed no fear from him. He was an oasis of tranquillity and gentleness. It was impossible not to be infected by his attitude. 

“So,” Harry said, dabbing the corners of her lips with another damp cloth. “Purple hair, purple eyes, and purple lips. I take it you have a favourite colour?”

“I was born with them,” Raven pointed out. He did have a point. She liked purple, but not as much as she liked black. “Purple’s not my favourite colour.”

“You were born with purple hair and lips?”

“Mhm.”

“Wow. That’s… unusual.”

“Everything about me is unusual, Harry.”

“Join the club,” Harry chuckled. “What about the red gem on your forehead?”

“Born with that too.”

“You have an interesting forehead feature, so do I. I’d joke about being twins, but mine was acquired.” Harry pushed his messy black hair away from his forehead to show her his lightning-bolt scar. “Got it when I was one, wearing it proudly ever since.”

“Harry… Harry… You’re Harry Potter.” Raven swore under her breath. “The Boy-Who-Lived.”

“The very same. I still don’t know your name, by the way.”

“Raven.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Raven, and thank you for saving me in the forest.”

Further conversation was cut short by a frazzled-looking man poking his head through the tent flaps. 

“What’s up, Mr Weasley?”

“We need to leave now,” the redheaded man responded. “Can your friend walk?”

“I can, Mr Weasley,” Raven said before Harry could speak. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She could sense the worry and fear in him. Was it because of her? She wanted to offer to stay behind, but she doubted Harry would accept that. “Are you sure I’m not causing problems for you?”

“Not at all, dear. But we do need to leave right away.”

“He’s worried,” Raven said, turning to Harry once the man had left. “Maybe it’s best if I don’t come with you.”

“It’s not you. I think this is the first time he’s broken a rule and used his influence to get something. Mr Weasley doesn’t like abusing his power,” Harry explained. He pulled the blanket away from her and gently helped her into a sitting position. “Also, I think every Ministry official looks like that right now.”

Raven nodded and turned around, ignoring the throbbing in her head. Her sore feet protested when she tried to stand, and she would have collapsed to the floor had it not been for Harry pushing a hand underneath her arm and letting her lean against him for support. 

“I got you. Come on,” Harry said, guiding her around the bed.

Waiting for them outside the palatial tent was a veritable army of redheads. The only girl with brown hair stared at them with a worried expression, chewing her lower lip. The cacophony of emotions that immediately assaulted her caused her knees to buckle. Fear, pain, and misery washed over her in waves. The land around them was desolate, marked by burnt-down tents and scattered personal belongings.

“You okay?” Harry asked, propping her up.

“Yeah. This is… horrifying,” Raven whispered, looking around at the destruction wrought by the masked men. Any lingering sympathy for the two men in the forest evaporated in an instant. She was no saint, but what they had done was diabolical. 

“Death Eaters. Every single one of them is a coward,” Harry growled. 

“All right, now that Harry and his friend are here, we need to move!” Mr Weasley shouted, waving his arms to get everyone’s attention. “Single file, everyone. Don’t stop for anything or anyone.”

Harry held back and joined the back of the group as they walked through the camp. Everyone else stayed at a respectable distance away from them. The brunette kept glancing back every so often. Raven could sense her worry, but decided against addressing it. She simply did not have the energy. If not for Harry, she doubted she had the ability to stand, let alone walk. All she wanted to do was curl up on the ground and sleep for a thousand years.

“Who are they? Why did they do this?” Raven asked as they passed a young mother sitting on an overturned crate, cradling a crying baby in her arms. The woman’s tent was little more than a few pieces of charred wood and cloth. 

“You don’t know who the Death Eaters are? But you know who I am.”

“I told you, I don’t get out much. I know about you from a book. You defeated the Dark Lord called Voldemort when you were just a baby.”

“Yeah. These guys are his followers. Mr Weasley thinks they had too much to drink last night and decided to relive the good old days.”

“But… Isn’t he gone?”

“Yeah. Disappeared the night he tried to kill me. Nobody told these fuckers,” Harry muttered, kicking a soot-covered mug out of their way. “Let’s hope they don’t manage to weasel out of accountability this time as well. At least the two men who tried to attack us will end up in Azkaban.”

Raven looked at him inquisitively.

“Prison,” Harry explained. “I feel so bad for them,” Harry whispered, nodding to the shell-shocked family sitting close to the entrance of the camp. A group of wizards and witches surrounded them, casting memory-erasing charms to make them forget the horrors they must have witnessed. “They did nothing to deserve what happened to them.”

Raven nodded, numb. The absence of emotions from the family felt far more disconcerting than the fear and pain she felt from everyone else around her. While the memory-erasing charms would help, she knew there was no erasing such trauma. The family would lead stilted and unnatural lives for the rest of their lives. 

“Where are we going?” Raven asked, tearing her gaze away from the family. They followed the group up a grassy hill, stopping when Mr Weasley greeted the lone wizard waiting for them at the top.

“The Burrow. It’s the Weasley family home. You’ll be safe there. Mr Weasley told me he’ll contact your guardian when things quieten down.”

“Okay,” Raven murmured, allowing Harry to guide her closer to Mr Weasley. He made all of them stand in a circle around him. 

“Dear,” Mr Weasley said kindly, directly addressing her for the first time. “What is your name?”

“Raven. Thank you for helping me, Mr Weasley.”

“You’re welcome, Raven. Have you used a portkey before?”

Raven nodded.

“Good. Standard procedure, children. Grab the boot and hold onto it as the charm activates. Do not let go until we land in Ottery St Catchpole.” Mr Weasley accepted the boot from the wizard and held it out in his hands. 

Everyone shuffled forward and grasped different parts of the boot. Harry squeezed her hand, and to her surprise, the simple gesture brought real comfort. She gave him a small, genuine smile seconds before being sucked into the aether. After mere seconds of weightlessness, she was shot back into reality, falling through the air and landing on top of Harry with a quiet groan. While he had broken her fall, it also left her in the unfortunate position of having her face buried in his chest while she was on top of him. His scent carried the warmth of a spring morning - grass freshly cut, lavender in bloom, and the faint trace of polished wood.

“I hate portkeys,” Harry groaned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Raven muttered. She subconsciously leaned into him, inexplicably drawn to his warmth. “I prefer broomsticks. Everything else sucks.”

“Do you fly?” Harry wrapped an arm around her to keep her from slipping off him. “I got a Firebolt last year, it’s probably my favourite possession. We should go flying sometime.”

“Harry?”

“Give us a moment, Mr Weasley!” Harry shouted back. “We’re alright, we just need to catch our breath.”

“That’s a strange way to catch your breath,” a redhead close to them said.

“You’re quite right, Fred,” his twin added solemnly. 

“Leave them alone, you two,” the brunette said, pushing them aside and stomping over to them. “Hi, I don’t think we have been formally introduced,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Hermione,” she added, helping Raven to her feet. 

“Nice to meet you, Hermione. I’m Raven.”

“Thank you for saving Harry, Raven. These two idiots are Fred and George. Don’t pay attention to anything they say.”

“You wound us, Miss Granger,” the twins groaned in unison.

“Kids, we really need to get moving,” Mr Weasley cut in, looking at their surroundings worriedly. “We’re too exposed here.”

Hermione helped Harry to his feet as well and stuck around with them as they began to descend the hill. They followed a dirt path through a sleepy village, drawing more than one curious stare along the way. Raven felt hilarious overdressed in comparison to the villagers, Weasleys, and even Harry. Her black cloak was ostentatiously embroidered and trimmed with silver, with a cape to match. Igor Karkaroff liked those around him to look good. It had taken a lot of fighting, more than one meltdown, and several threats to get him to compromise and let her wear all-black clothes. Next to everyone around her, she looked cartoonishly evil. 

“Everyone is staring,” Raven murmured, pulling her cape tightly around her.

“Mr Weasley has a reputation in the village,” Hermione said. “He’s somewhat… eccentric. Plus, the Burrow looks like-” she pointed to a crooked spire in the distance, “-well, like that. The house is standing only because of magic, and I don’t think the villagers understand how it stays upright.”

“You’re a strange bunch,” Raven said, studying the house in the distance. The house looked like disparate blocks stacked on top of each other. The final floor was topped by a thatched, slanting roof. “I get why they’re worried about the building collapsing,” she added, studying the Burrow dubiously.

“It’s a lovely place,” Harry said. “What kind of house do you live in?”

“It’s technically a castle.” Raven shrugged. “But I stick to my rooms for the most part,” she admitted.

“Well, the Burrow is no castle, but I hope you’ll feel comfortable here,” Harry said.

The house’s door burst open, and a portly, red-haired woman rushed out, covering the distance between them with startling speed. She paused in front of Mr Weasley, and for a second, Raven was afraid she’d slap the man. Instead, she burst into tears and pulled him into a crushing hug. 

“I was so worried!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been listening to the wireless all night, but they didn’t have any additional information about the attack. I was worried you… or the kids… oh, kids!” She ran from Mr Weasley to the Twins and wrapped her arms around their necks, pulling them into a hug. “I yelled at you! You could have died, and I yelled at you!”

“Ow! Mom, you’re crushing us!” Fred yelled.

“Get a handle on yourself, woman, we’re fine!” George added.

“Molly.” Mr Weasley gently pulled his wife away from the Twins. “We’re fine, honey. All of us are okay. Now, let’s go inside. I think all of us could do with a cup of tea.”

The inside of the house looked as though a tornado had torn through it. Every surface, from the tables to the couches, was buried under piles of clutter. Mr Weasley and his wife disappeared into the kitchen, and everyone else found a place to collapse. Raven couldn’t figure out where it was safe to sit, so she just stood awkwardly next to Harry. Harry looked up at her with a grin and patted the arm of the couch he was sitting on. Raven happily perched on it, grateful for the chance to rest her sore feet.

“What happened to this house? Did the Death Eaters attack here as well?” Raven whispered to Harry.

“This is what it always looks like,” Harry chuckled. “I told you, the Weasleys are eccentric.”

“I like it.” Raven looked around the house. It had a charm to it that she had lacked all her life. The fact that she was surrounded by warmth and happiness only made things better. “Thank you,” she murmured, greeting the older woman holding out a mug for her with a smile. 

“Arthur told me what happened, dear,” the woman responded with a kind smile of her own. “You’re more than welcome to stay with us until we sort things out. I’m Molly. Why don’t you introduce yourself to everyone?”

“Hi, everyone.” Raven carefully balanced the mug of tea in her left hand and waved awkwardly with her right. She was not used to human interaction. She had talked more in her time with Harry and his friends than she usually did in an entire month. “I’m Raven. I’m from, well, I guess I’m from nowhere in particular, but I live at Durmstrang in Romania.”

“Who is your guardian, dear?” Mr Weasley asked, walking into the living room. He was dressed in a new cloak and held a piece of toast in his hand. He bit into it, then pecked his wife’s cheek. “I must be off. But if you tell me their name, I’ll try to get in touch with them.”

“Igor Karkaroff,” Raven answered, unnerved by the immediate wave of negative emotions she felt from the man in front of her. He was not the first to feel that way about Igor Karkaroff, and she doubted he would be the last. 

“Alright. I’ll try to get in touch with him once the situation is calmer. Until then, nobody is to leave the house,” Mr Weasley said, looking meaningfully at the Twins.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Dad,” Fred answered with an easy smile.

“I’ll come with you, Father,” said the redhead closest to her, rising from the rocking chair. “Mr Crouch needs me.”

“He sure does, Weatherby,” George chortled.

“George! Percy is just doing his job!” Mrs Weasley said, glaring at her son.

Percy’s face had gone as red as a tomato, but he stomped out of the house without another word. Mr Weasley sighed and followed him. Raven watched them leave, wondering how it felt to grow up in a house surrounded by love and camaraderie. 

“Raven? Raven, dear?” Mr Weasley called, waving her hand in front of Raven’s face to attract her attention. She smiled when the girl turned to look at her. “Why don’t you go up with Hermione and Ginny? I’ll get Bill to fix up a bed for you. It’ll be a little cramped, but I’m sure we can manage things for a few nights?” she asked, a hint of worry creeping into her voice. 

Harry squeezed her hand, giving Raven the courage to nod and smile. Everything that was happening to her was surreal, but she finally had a taste of freedom for the first time in her life, and she could not get enough of it. Everything was an option, and she could just as easily say no to something she did not like. It was unusual to have such power. Power felt good. The voices that had stayed silent so far hummed in agreement.

Raven got to her feet and followed the girls up the rickety stairs. They climbed to the very top, stopping just before the final staircase.

“Our room. Don’t mind the mess,” Ginny said, opening the only door on the floor and leading her into the room. “Most of it is mine.”

“Ginny doesn’t see the virtue of a tidy room,” Hermione huffed. The brunette walked over to one of the two beds in the room and flopped on it. “It feels good to be back in my own bed. I’m happy to share mine until Bill fixes one for you, Raven.”

 “Thanks,” Raven said. She sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, keeping as much distance between her and Hermione as was humanly possible. She didn’t sense anything malign in her, but both girls lacked Harry’s warmth. Its sudden absence had left an unwelcome void in her. “I don’t mind the clutter.”

Unlike her sterile quarters, the room actually felt like it belonged to someone. She felt a strange mixture of envy and sadness. She did not belong here, with normal people and their normal worries.

“So,” Ginny said. The redhead was sitting cross-legged on her bed, working on the twigs of a broomstick. “What’s the deal with you and Harry?”

“Ginny!” Hermione looked up and glared at her friend. “What the hell?!”

“What? You saw how distraught he was when he carried her into the tent. He wouldn’t leave her side the entire night.”

“He, what?” Raven choked out. No one had ever been that concerned about her well-being. 

“I’m just curious, that’s all,” Ginny finished, ignoring Raven’s outburst.

“Well, it’s none of our business, so let’s stop bothering her,” Hermione grumbled.

“What’s none of your business?” Harry asked, walking into the room with a tall redhead who had his hair secured in a ponytail. The fang earring in his right lobe swayed hypnotically with every step. “Raven, this is Bill. We’re going to fix you a bed.”

“I hope you’re okay with a sleeping bag until we come up with a more long-term solution,” Bill said, holding up the bag in his arms.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Raven said. She was used to far worse, especially since her handlers had discovered the cold was an effective way to dampen her powers. The calm she felt around Harry returned almost immediately. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into the mattress of Hermione’s bed, focusing on Harry’s presence in an attempt to ground herself.

“So, Karkaroff, huh? You look nothing like your old man,” Bill said. He shuffled around Hermione’s bed and got to work setting up the sleeping bag in the only empty corner of the room.

“I’m adopted.”

“Jeez. My condolences. Hope he’s nicer to you than he is with most people.”

“Who’s Karkaroff?”

“He’s the Headmaster of Durmstrang. It’s a school in Europe,” Hermione piped up. “That’s… that’s all I know. I read it in a book.”

“From what dad tells me, he’s not the most pleasant man to be around.”

Raven opened her eyes. That explained Mr Weasley’s discomfort when her guardian’s name had come up.

“Rumour has it he was a Death Eater, but nothing ever came of it. Left Britain after the war and made a new life for himself on the continent.”

Raven frowned and turned to face Bill. “People thought he belonged to the same group that destroyed the camp and tortured people last night?” She had never felt anything other than greed and lust in Igor Karkaroff, but she hadn’t thought him to be outright evil. Until now. “How would anyone know?”

“Well, he’d have a mark on his wrist. They call it the Dark Mark.”

“A snake and a skull?”

Bill whistled. “You’ve seen it? Yeah, that’s the one. You-Know-Who branded the right wrist of all of his followers with it.”

“I… I-” Raven got to her feet and mechanically walked to the door. “I need some air.”

The voices in her head had intensified. She could feel her control slipping, and the last time that had happened recently, she had nearly killed two men. She dashed down the stairs and out of the house, running blindly across an overgrown field in a futile attempt to outrun her demons.

Notes:

This story is a commission, and I had a lot of fun writing it cause Raven is definitely a top 10 character for me. I'm open to commissions by the way, and I write just about any setting, not just HP! Check out my post about commissions! This Raven is my take on the character, and a composite of a lot of different versions. She also has a unique backstory, as you will see. Doing this allows me to write a good Raven x Harry relationship, and helps me avoid having elements that don't quite fit the story being pigeonholed into it.