Hello peeps.

This is my first Doctor Who fanfiction. It's also my first Harry Potter fanfiction. The first I've posted, anyway; I've written tons, but they all got scrapped because it was either hard to understand, gibberish, or I just lost interest.

I haven't a clue if I'm actually going to finish this fanfiction. Haven't really got a plan like I usually do. Please review if you have the time. I appreciate constructive criticism.

Tenth Doctor/Rose is my OTP.

Warning: Rated T for swearing. Implications of corporal punishment, because the beginning is set in the late sixties to late seventies.

Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. I don't even remember what BBC stands for, shame on me. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. I don't remember what K stands for either, though I think J stands for Jo. I hate abbreviations.

Hope you enjoy.

The Doctor frowned.

After finally visiting Barcelona with Rose, his companion had shown strange symptoms that inspired more questions than answers. The visit to Barcelona was a fortnight ago, and he kept his concerns to himself for that period of time, but after two weeks, he was too curious to just let it be.

Rose had experienced a sudden jump in intelligence; not that the Doctor didn't think she was brilliant already due to her compassion, but this was something else. It was subtle, but sometimes, Rose surprised even herself at the change. It was somewhat similar to the time she ate chips made using Krillitane Oil, but this time, he was sure it was not the case.

His Rose also smelled different since he regenerated. He wasn't sure if his olfactory senses had changed during the regeneration or what; he was never going to tell her that, though. If she hadn't noticed herself, him mentioning it might sound a bit too weird.

"Rose, may I take a few vials of blood from you?" the Doctor asked.

"Why, is there something wrong?" her brows furrowed.

"Oh, no, nothing's wrong, but I noticed something odd about you recently," he babbled. "It's just a check. Won't be long, maybe an hour or so. Just to give me some peace of mind, y'know."

Rose shrugged. "If you say so," she said.

"Alright!" he beamed. "Allons-y, to the med bay."

As the Doctor ushered his companion into the room with clinically white walls, he rubbed some hand sanitiser on his hands and proceeded to put on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Rose, I'm going to tie your arm with this rubber tourniquet band. It might be a bit tight, so bear with me. Oh, and it'll help me get enough blood faster if you clench your hand into a fist and relax it, like this." He demonstrated.

"Okay." He did so, and sterilised the area he was going to take blood from with an alcohol wipe. When the alcohol dried, he took the vials of blood as quickly and as carefully as possible. He firmly held a cotton swab on top of where he'd taken blood.

"Press on that for two minutes while I sort out the analysis stuff," he said. Rose obeyed. He took off the rubber tourniquet and sorted out the vials of blood. He returned with a tiny, round bandage a few minutes later, and plastered it on the wound.

"Analysis might take a while, so you can do whatever you like while I work the machines," the Doctor continued. "I'll come get you once I have results, okay?"

"Alright," she said. "I'll be in your library if you need me."

The Doctor smiled at her as she left. He began to work.

An hour and a half later, he was staring at the screen of the blood analysis machine, slack-jawed. Rose was a Gallifreyan.

Rose was a Gallifreyan.

The sentence repeated in his head, over and over. He couldn't believe his own eyes, until the TARDIS communicated to him that it'd happened during what happened at the Game Station.

"Oh my God." He leaned back on his office chair, and began spinning the seat around. "So that change of smell, it wasn't just me, was it? That was because she wasn't human anymore!"

He was initially shocked, then jumping for joy, then suddenly very afraid. Jackie would slap him into the next century if she ever found out he'd turned Rose into an alien species.

Unfortunately, Rose wasn't a Time Lady—though fortunately, that could be fixed by syncing his regenerations with her and adding the symbiotic nuclei, similar to what they did for Time Lords back on Gallifrey, but they'd have to be, in Gallifreyan terms, married.

He flushed, and took a moment to calm down. Even if Rose refused his offer to become his bonded mate, Rose would still live a very, very long life. If a Gallifreyan was careful, he could potentially live a thousand years in one life before he died of old age. The Doctor stood up from his black leather office chair, a silly grin on his face. He went to tell Rose the good news.

He approached the library, tip-toeing into the large room and creeping behind his companion, curious about what she was reading.

Ah, Harry Potter. Classic.

"Boo!" Rose jumped in her seat, and her book fell onto the floor.

"Doctor!" she said in a scolding tone. "You scared me!"

He smirked. "That was kind of the point."

Rose ignored his antics. "So, what were the results?"

The Doctor adopted a serious expression. "Do you want the good news, or the bad news first?"

Rose narrowed her eyes. "Bad news."

The Doctor sighed dramatically. "Your mother is going to slap me into oblivion." Rose looked ticked.

"That was it?"

He looked at her with his puppy dog eyes. "You don't think that's bad news?"

She slapped him on the arm, hard. "OW!"

"Be serious! If that was all for bad news, what's the good news?"

"Erm… Well. It's sort of good and bad at the same time." He rubbed the back of his head nervously. "You're a Gallifreyan now, Rose."

Rose's wide eyes stared into his brown ones. "I'm a what?!"

"A Gallifreyan. The TARDIS told me the Bad Wolf caused a mutation in you—one that made you Gallifreyan, but not quite a Time Lady. If you're careful, you can probably live another nine hundred plus years."

Rose's mouth took the shape of an 'o'. "Why's that bad?"

He looked at her, a sad, pained look in his eyes. "You'll lose many people you love in a long life such as this. Humans have very short lifespans compared to the people of Gallifrey."

"Yes, but I'll have you," Rose replied, smiling. "I'll survive anything as long as you're with me."

"You might live longer than me," he pointed out. "I only have two regenerations left—though, there is a solution to that."

"Tell me," she said.

"Um… Y-you could become my bonded mate, it's kind of like marriage back on Gallifrey," he stammered. "It means you'll only live as long as my twelfth regeneration—of course, it's your choice—"

Rose giggled. "Silly alien. What does it entail?"

The lack of hesitation in her words made him love her even more. "Well, for one, if we were to become bonded, both of us will be able to know the location of the other at all times. We will also be able to communicate telepathically, if we let down our natural shields. You see, humans don't have them, but all Gallifreyans have natural mind shields due to being touch telepaths. We wouldn't have to touch anymore to have a telepathic conversation."

Rose suddenly felt her own chest with a hand. "If I'm Gallifreyan, why do I still have one heart?"

"Gallifreyans are born with one heart. They only gain a second heart when they first regenerate," The Doctor explained. "So, anyway, back on topic—if you agree to be my bonded mate, you will receive enough symbiotic nuclei to match mine, so that we share the number of regenerations I have left. Gallifreyan bond mate ceremonies are long and boring and they don't really affect anything anyway—the real question is, do you want this?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while. What you'd do when I eventually lived out my lifespan." Rose sighed. "Of course I want to do it, Doctor. It would erase my worrying for you if my lifespan could match yours."

Rose made herself taller by standing on the tip of her toes, and she kissed him on the lips chastely. For a second, he was shocked, but he then leaned into the kiss.

All he could feel was joy that bordered on drunkenness, and all he could smell was her. She distracted him so much, that he failed to notice a grey figure in the shadows of the library shelves, getting closer.

And closer.

When he broke apart from the kiss, all he could do was stare in horror, for the split second the weeping angel touched them both, they disappeared.