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

Warnings: Language, Violence

I've set the whole story ten years later, meaning that Harry was borne in 1990 etc..

This is the introduction to my story, so don't expect the whole story to be explained in it. If Harry may seem a bit ooc you can tell me, but keep in mind that he is only 7, going to be 8, here at first. The Dursleys turned (in my opinion, it was said in the first book that there was a time he got an allowance, so I've got this theory going) only really nasty (they weren't saints before, but not as bad as later depicted) after Harry's first accidental magic.

And in this story, nothing has happened so far (in front of the Dursleys or to their notice mind you), not even his hair growing back insanely fast. So Harry has some kind of self worth, which he totally seemed to lack in the books, in my story.

I hope that explains everything so far.

###

Harry Potter didn't have a good life and he knew this already before going to school. In a good family, children should be cherished by their parents, loved and well cared for.

He didn't have parents to cherish his existence, he wasn't loved where he lived and well cared for was something else than what he was experiencing at home.

That said, it wasn't that he was physically beaten or anything, but neglecting and harsh words could cut more deeply than a knife. For Harry Potter's whole being was loathed in Privet Drive No 4.

There was a time when he tried to figure out what made his aunt and uncle despise him. He watched how they cuddled and pampered Dudley, who often behaved badly, so he tried to copy Dudley's behaviour. That was the one time he got slapped by aunt Petunia. He tried being nice and friendly, that didn't made them any nicer either.

So, little Harry came one night in his small and dark cupboard under the stairs to the conclusion, that he wasn't the source of his relatives hate.

While an older and more experienced person would probably point out that humans don't need a rational reason to hate someone, Harry didn't have the questionable pleasure of seeing these things in real life.

Harry decided then and there that he would find the reason and see what could be done about it, because he really wished to have a loving family or at least a neutral one.

His world view may have been a little off, for it was composed of what the caretakers in kindergarten taught, Mrs Figgs mumbled gibberish, his relative's barking and demanding and late night TV shows and early morning cartoons that could be heard in his cupboard.

Right and wrong didn't really make any sense to him, no one every really bothered to explain the fundamentals of morality to him. He didn't understand that hurting someone was wrong, the Dursleys tolerated Dudley hurting him and in those cartoons they hit each other all the time and blew each other up and lets not get started on those late night programs. While he did understand that cartoons weren't real, the message seemed clear enough to him. One of the only things that all parties that taught Harry the rules of life, if they could be called that, agreed upon was that you don't cross the street if the traffic light was red!

Not a very healthy or normal mindset, mind you, but a great ground for misled and or insane worldviews, what the Wizarding World and the Dursleys would be learning in the near future.

000

Years after little Harry's resolution to find the root for the Dursley's behaviour and therefore his miserable life, Harry's life was, to put it bluntly, even more miserable. He went to school with Dudley, who was now about a head taller than Harry and had found just what everyone in this world needed: People with the same definition of 'fun' as him.

Sadly, this was a very miserable day for Harry and most of the children that went to this particular elementary school.

One day, this day to be precisely, Harry, tired after a whole day of 'Harry Hunting', hungry, because he didn't have any lunch, frustrated by the unfairness of the world in general and very, very alone was on his way home from school.

He missed the bus while hiding for Dudley's gang and now had to walk all the way home, which would probably take him ( a very skinny and small child, eighth years of age) about two whole hours. His relative weren't about to be worried about his whereabouts or anything, but they would be very angry about all the chores that would surely be neglected in Harry's absence.

While Harry walked along a street with all kind of different shops he thought bitterly:

'Can this day get any worse? I hate this.'

You really shouldn't tempt Fate's hand like that, because in most cases, the answer is fast, annoying and totally not what you would like.

This time was no different and Harry got his answer in form of a loud rolling thunder and the promise of only too soon following rain.

'Shit'

In search for a potential place to wait the rain out, Harry let his eyes wander over the nearby shops. Most of them were shops for clothes, pretty expensive clothes that would probably throw him out before he even got over the threshold. Dudley's old hand me downs made it pretty obvious that he didn't really belong in such a shop. The restaurant and cafes were also quickly disregarded; he didn't have any money on him.

The next shop was a comic shop and while Harry wasn't all that interested in those, translated, didn't ever own and or read one before. It seemed to be a save bet for a young boy to hang out in a comic shop for quite some time (hopefully until the rain that just started to fall ended).

And so Harry quickly went into the shop before he would very likely catch a cold in the rain. He just lacked the body mass and the right clothes to keep him warm in such an uncomfortable weather.

A bell signalled his entrance to the women behind the register, who looked only for a few seconds up from her magazine to study him and then went right back to reading. There were only a handful of other customers in the shop, mostly teenagers, except for one middle aged men at the very end of the shop.

Harry just went to one shelf and blindly picked up a comic heft. He looked down 'Batman', and then looked around. The other customers were all reading something or another, flipping through pages or looking among all those shelves.

'Why not, I still have some time to kill'

Thus he began to read the comic.

At first Harry really couldn't see what people would like about these comics. He didn't understand what was going on or who was who. Maybe it wasn't too intelligent to just start in the middle of things without knowing what was going on, but Harry didn't really know that most comics were an ongoing series.

The middle aged man must have seen his frustrated expression, for he walked unnoticed up to Harry and looked over the young boys shoulder. After a moment of consideration he tipped the boy on the shoulder to get his attention.

Started, Harry whirled around where he stood, reflexes tuned from many sessions of 'Harry Hunting' and other such games, coming to full use as he nearly tripped over his own feet and into the shelf behind him.

The man quickly grabbed Harry's arm to prevent him from falling, smiling and seemingly finding the whole situation more amusing then anything else.

"Careful there, you don't want to make a mess of things here, Monica", here he shoot a meaningful look in direction of the women behind the counter, still engrossed in her magazine, "may be lenient when it comes to reading here, but mercy on the poor guys soul who pisses her of. She can be such a harpy."

Harry looked down at the hand that still held his arm and than shoot an accusing glare at the man attached to said appendage. Sadly his glare was somewhat less intimidating because his glassed had slipped to the very tip of his nose and he couldn't really see said man. Seeing Harry's attempted glare, the man just chuckled and let go of the arm.

"Sorry there, I didn't want to scare you."

Pushing his glasses back to their rightful place, Harry looked up to the man. He seemed honest enough in his apology, so he gave him a short nod, indicating his acceptance of the apology.

Harry may not be the bravest boy in existence, nor a very out going and more on the shy side, but he didn't want all people to, sometimes even literary, walk all over him.

He studied the man for a moment, his first impression about his age seemed about right. The man seemed to be in his late thirties and was pleasantly rounded. Not fat or anything, but comfortable with his life and body. His brown hair was starting to thin on his head and he had many winkles around his eyes, showing that this man seemed to enjoy laughing. His clothes consisted of a normal pair of jeans and a checked shirt. All in all, this man seemed nice enough.

"So, my young friend, I couldn't help but notice that you seemed bothered about something and that while such a great issue of Batman. Good taste by the way. What bothered you?"

Harry couldn't help but blush a little bit. Obviously this man enjoyed comics a great deal and wanted to talk with someone with equal enthusiasm. It wasn't that he knew if this were a good issue or anything, he just grabbed the first that was there for Christ's sake! He looked down at the object that was still in his hand and back up to the man and grinned apologetic.

He seemed to understand what the youth wasn't willing to outright say, nodded seemingly to himself once and addressed the boy again.

"You have no clue about Batman, do you?"

A tentative nod was his answer.

"Or comics in general?"

A second nod followed the first one.

Harry watched as the man in front of him tapped his index finger against his chin, as if in deep thought. Nodded against to himself as if he would agree with his own thought process and turned his attention back to Harry.

"Then I can only do one thing."

Harry threw a nervous glance out of a nearby window. It was still pouring.

"I will have to introduce you to the wonderful world of comics and graphic novels!" said the man with so much enthusiasm, that Harry had to blink to see if he wasn't hallucinating. No one ever really wanted to spend their time with him and given the chance were mostly avoiding him. His peers were not only afraid of Dudley, but also thought he was either boring or strange and adults just weren't interested in him. Well, besides that really strange man that bowed to him once, but he probably didn't count.

He took Harry by the hand and half dragged him, still with the issue of 'Batman' in hand to the cashier, greeted Monica happily and paid for the issue and a few other books and issues in his shopping basket. Harry stared just numbly at the whole scene and stayed quite.

After paying and getting the bag with his purchase he looked down at Harry and said, still grinning, that it would be easier to talk over a nice cup of tea and some cake. Harry nodded, still a little bit freaked out by the weirdness of the whole situation, but far to hungry to decline some cake or food in general, really.

And while some may think that it is strange for a child to follow a stranger he or she just met, bear in mind that the Dursley's didn't exactly gave Harry the talk about not going with strangers. Their intentions for doing so may be for everyone's guess, but it seems that the reason may be related to the reason why they didn't teach him how to swim.

The pair went out of the shop and rushed as fast as they could into the nearest café to escape the rain. Here they said down at a nice table in a corner of the room after taking of their jackets and the still nameless man ordered for both of them a pot of tea and an assortment of small cakes and cookies.

For everyone just passing by they looked like a father who took his son after a day of work and school respectively shopping and were now enjoying the rest of the day.

Harry stared curiously around the café, he may have seen such places from the outside, but the Dursleys never really took him anyway if they could help it and he enjoyed his chance to eat somewhere else while he could.

The man, now introduced as Michael Winchester began to rummage through his shopping bag while they waited for the waitress to bring them their orders.

"What is your name my fine friend?"

A little bit startled, Harry's gaze wandered back to Michael (not Mr Winchester that always makes me feel uncomfortable and old). He still was a bit unsure about Michael's open and happy personality and never had someone before called him his or her friend, not even in good fun or anything.

"My name is Harry, Harry Potter."

And they were back again to the comfortable silence from before, as if they had known each other for years and not just a few minutes. They order arrived and Harry, after some hesitance in the beginning, wondering if he really was allowed to eat these things, that Michael didn't want him to think about, dug in.

On a normal day it would have tasted good, for Harry, who felt that he was starving, it was heaven. While he still minded some of the most basic table manners, he was faster through the first two small pieces of cake and one cookie than most people could say 'Dug in'.

Michael seemed to find the whole thing amusing and moved for Harry to take himself more if he wanted and Harry was just to happy to oblige, but with more restraint this time, now, that the first hunger was sated.

The man opposite of him, who seemed content to still munch on his first piece of cake, let his eyes wander over the boy. He may not be a social worker, psychologist or a doctor, but he had a good mind on his shoulders and could add two and two together.

The boy, Harry, seemed to have a hard time in life. Maybe his parents didn't earn enough or didn't have a job, he wasn't sure about that one, but the far too large clothes, the taped glasses, the mangled backpack and the more than slightly malnourished form seemed to speak for themselves. He really hoped that there wasn't any violence involved.

Well, Michael liked children, he would've liked to some own children, but sadly, he and his ex-wife never really could work that one (or many other things for the matter) out, probably the reason why she was his ex-wife now. And why not enjoy doing a good deed?

He took the comic that the lad had in hand when he met him and gave it to him over the table. At first he just stared at him, than at the comic and finally reached hesitantly for the issue, a small and shy smile on his lips.

"Thank you Mr…ah Michael, but you really shouldn't have to, I mean, you don't have to spend your money for me…"

"Rubbish Harry, I'm a grown man and if I want to buy something to give it to someone, I very well should. Who would I be if I ignored my inner voice on that account? It really is no problem; those few pounds won't kill me."

Harry's face felt as his face was on fire and he was sure it was the colour of a ripe tomato. He had never really gotten a real and honest present before and now a virtual stranger had given him something!

He looked again up to the Michael's face, who was, again, smiling at him. Also something new, someone who was really smiling at him, not in his direction, but him. It made a warm feeling inside his belly growing and he felt for the first time in a very long while truly happy. In a small voice he said:

"Thank you."

Michael, probably sensing Harry's embarrassment just smiled wider and changed the topic, back to what he originally in mind.

"And now, I wanted to tell you a little bit more about the 'Batman' series. It is one of my favourites by the way. I think I started reading it in your age, too. Well, as most comics, it is about a superhero, who is protecting his city, sometimes even the world, against super villains. He fights crimes dressed up in a bat like costume so no one will know his real identity. His true name is Bruce Wayne, a billionaire, whose parents were murdered right in front of him when he was only a child."

And on and on it went. Michael talked about the other characters, the villains, some plots that Batman had successfully thwarted connections to other comics from DC and the Animation Series that was Saturday and Sunday mornings on TV, the old Batman Series with real life actors and then some more.

Harry hung to his every word, it was fascinating and Michael talked with so much passion that Harry could see some pictures right in front of his mind's eye. And that someone bothered to actually answer some of his question was such a nice change, too.

For the first time in a long while, Harry felt like maybe, the world was going to be brighter in the future and there was a place just for him in it somewhere.

Michael's favourite topic seemed to be the villains; he always came back to them, describing their characters, their pasts, their past schemes and their connection to Batman. He showed Harry pictures of all of them in one of his bought books and explained what some authors or artist had done over the time that the series existed.

If he was honest with himself, some parts of what Michael told him went right over Harry's head, but he couldn't bring himself to stop Michael. But what Harry understood were that most people in the series seemed to have very tragic pasts or seemingly none at all if you counted this Joker guy and all coped with it in a different way. He could feel some kind of kinship with those characters and it felt nice, even if they were just picture on paper.

Sometime in the middle of a very animated explanation of some of the more interesting gadgets that everyone and their third cousin seemed to own in Gotham, the waitress came back, took the plates with the long forgotten last crumbles of the cake and the now empty teacups and asked if they could bring anything else.

After a few short questions if Harry wanted anything and then what he would like on his sandwich, Michael ordered two sandwich with cold cuts, a basket with French fries and two sodas for both of them.

And while it had stopped raining quite sometime ago, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He would be in trouble with the Dursleys anyway, so he would damn well enjoy a good time while he had the chance. Dinner seemed like a good idea to him, the Dursleys probably would just send him straight to his cupboard and he had no intention of going, again mind you, hungry to bed if he had a way around it.

It wasn't that he was listening to Michael just for the present and food, he really liked the man, and these things were just an added bonus.

After a hearty lunch and even more talking on Michael's part (Harry was now wondering if Michael was related to Mrs No 7, who could talk a donkey to dead if she wanted, but sadly wasn't as interesting as Michael to Harry. Aunt Petunia on the other hand seemed to hang on her every word about the love life of Mrs No 16 and the divorce in No 8 when she was over to tea. Some people just seemed to find those things very interesting for some reason…) it seemed to occur to Michael that his young companion may be expected by someone.

Sheepishly he apologized for getting so carried away and wasting Harry's whole afternoon and probably worrying his family. Harry quickly cut him of and told him that he really enjoyed this afternoon and lied about his family not expecting him anyway before dawn, which was still about half an hour away.

He would never make it before nightfall to be home, still about an hour and a half away by foot, but Michael didn't need to know that. No need to worry him.

Michael paid the waitress and both of them stepped out of the café and into the last rays of the afternoon sun. The clouds were gone by now and the air was as fresh as it could only be after a good bit of rain.

Michael practically demanded to drive Harry home and Harry hadn't had it in him to refuse him. They went to Michael's car, an old green Ford and Harry told Michael where he lived.

The ride was spend in comfortable silence. Harry put his issue of 'Batman', which he now viewed in a different light, into one of his school books, hiding it from Dudley's greedy fingers and aunt Petunia's disapproval. He didn't want it taken from him for some stupid reason.

After about fifteen minutes Michael drove into Privet Drive. Before Harry got out of the car, he said:

"Maybe we could meet again at one time or another Harry, I'm nearly everyday of the week except for the weekend in the shop at around the same time. I work two streets away from it and it has become some kind of habit to visit it after work. I would be happy to see you again in the future and then you can tell me what you think about it", here he gestured to Harry's backpack where the 'Batman' issue had been stored.

Harry was only too happy to nod. It would be nice seeing Michael again and it was well worth the way he had to go or his relative's ire he would have to endure.

And with a last wave, Michael drove off, actually aware that no child could have gotten here before dawn by foot or that this neighbourhood didn't seem to be the kind where people lived who lacked a job or money. But he kept quite, he would wait and see, first impressions could be deceiving and he didn't plan to let this first impression of the boy become the last one.

Maybe he finally reached the oh so feared midlife crisis or something, but he like spending time taking with Harry, even if he did most of the talking and the boy most of the listening.

It was a long time ago since he found someone new who he could tell about his comic passion. Most of the people he knew that would listen to him knew this stuff already and the other people found it stupid that a grown man spend his time reading children's picture books.

Hmpf, ignorance knows no bounds.

And maybe he could pretend for a few hours that he had a family, someone who would be happy if he came home from a long day of work and ask him how his day had been. Since the divorce six years ago, he had lived alone in his flat. From time to time he may go out on a date, but nothing had come out of those. He had long ago giving up the dream to be a father and he was aware that Harry probably had one already, but maybe he needed a favourite uncle? Nothing to do but wait and see.

At the same time Michael turned around the corner into the next street, Harry reached the door of Privet Drive No 4. Both had different thought running through their heads, but still ended on the same one:

'I hope I see him again in the future.'

###

I know, I know, nothing really happened here, nor magic, no drama, no violence etc., but I had to explain the characters at first a little bit.

I have a huge respect for people who make a HP/Batman x-over that actually works (few as there are), but I don't plan to make this a real x-over. Harry will embrace some character traits from some of the Batman characters and add the odd idea here and there.

I don't want too much foreshadowing here, so I will end it end here with the AN.

Please feel free to tell me what you thought about this, any idea or mistakes I've made or just your opinion in general.

Bye A.I.W.