Right, new story.

Disclaimer: I own both Harry Potter and Doctor Who... (if you really are that bad at detecting lies... well, that was a lie.)

Harry sighed contently as he stared up at the sky above him, littered with twinkling stars, mentally naming each and every constellation he could see. If anyone chanced upon him now (and Harry had no doubt that Mrs. #5 across the street was peeking out the window every now and then, trying to find something to gossip about), Harry had no doubt that he would look very, very odd, just lying there on the luxurious grass that was the Dursley's front yard, in the middle of the night, with his hands under his head, and staring up at the sky.

He was also pretty sure he could hear his 'guard' shifting every now and then, and from the amounts of 'ows' he had heard until now, Harry was pretty sure that it was Tonks' turn to guard him tonight. He had known, of course, from the moment his uncle had picked him up at station 9 3/4 at the end of his fifth year that there was someone watching over him. That prickling feeling that made his hairs on his back stand up seemed to never disappear fully.

He was startled from his thoughts as he heard the living room window open harshly, making the window squeak in protestation at the rough treatment it was getting. Rolling his eyes, Harry slowly turned his head to look at the man who he called his uncle, leaning out of the window creating a weird looking silhouette which kind of resembled a small whale with a moustache. Snorting at the ridiculous thought, Harry propped himself onto one elbow and turned to face his uncle.

"Yes?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow at the man. Although Harry couldn't see his face, he was pretty sure his uncle was scowling at him.

"Get back here boy, I don't want the neighbours thinking were queer!" He said in a harsh whisper. Harry just shrugged and muttered- "People already think that."

To his right, Harry heard a snort which was quickly covered up and he suddenly had no doubt at all that this was indeed Tonks.

"What was that boy!?" His uncle exclaimed.

"Nothing," Harry muttered, this time louder. Vernon seemed to scowl at him again and when Harry made no move to stand up he slammed the window shut again.

"Sleep outside then!" He yelled from the other side of the window and stalked back to... well the kitchen probably.

Rolling his eyes once more, Harry let himself fall back once more, now people would definitively think that the Dursleys were freaks, not that they didn't think that already. He didn't really care about sleeping outside. Actually, at the moment, he proffered it more then lying in his warm room which had been getting hotter and hotter as the sun got warmer and warmer. The cool calmed him somewhat. After the events at the ministry... well, he'd been a huge ball of anger and as corny as it sounded, watching the stars twinkle calmed him a lot.

He had always loved the stars, anything to do with astronomy or physics really. He had loved science as well, while he was in muggle school. He had of course excelled in each of those subjects, that is, until Vernon emotionally abused (Harry actually believed that emotional abuse was worse than physical) Harry into making himself down-preform his abilities to make Dudley look better in front of the teachers and his fellow classmates.

Life before Hogwarts hadn't been all that bad. Sure, he had lived in a cupboard full of spiders, with a family who literally hated him, despised the very thought of him... But school hadn't been all that bad.

Although people had picked on him for being anti-social, having glasses, odd knees, and a weird habit of waving his hands about to prove his point, he had enjoyed the science, history and literature classes. Hell, he had even gone to football (soccer) at which he hadn't been all that bad. Of course, Vernon had made him quit it when Dudley decided to join. That had pissed Harry off.

And though he loved the magical world with all his heart, loved the spells and the enchanting quality about it (no pun intended), somehow, he knew he didn't belong there. No, his passion had always been physics.

From the first moment his physics teacher (in muggle school) had opened his mouth and started talking about the basics, Harry had been mesmerized by the seemingly infinite possibilities one could achieve through them. Soon, however, he had started knowing the subject better than the teacher himself, though once again, he had been forced to keep silent about his talent.

He knew, just somehow, that he was a genius. There was no possible way one could read a book as fast as he did and memorize the whole bloody thing, or understand everything the teacher said and know more. Sometimes, it was as if the knowledge was already hidden somewhere in his brain, getting unlocked bit by bit.

Therefore, that was why at Hogwarts he had hidden his knowledge and genius. He already stood out from the mass of the wizarding world, being a celebrity and all. He didn't want more attention on him. Not that he didn't like being a genius, no, he just somehow... wanted his enemies to underestimate him. Big time.

His hand crept up to the fob watch hanging on a gold chain around his neck and he sighed as a calming pulse went up his arm. Once again, he somehow knew, that the fob watch was connected to all of this in some odd way.

Holding it up to the light from the full moon (ah, Lupin was probably suffering somewhere) he examined the watch intently, just as he had done so many times before. It was gold, and on the face of it were very delicately engraved circles upon circles upon circles, obviously showing the time. He never understood how, but with one look at it, he always knew the time. It was as if his brain was familiar with the 'language' already and all he had to do was look at it.

There was a small clasp on the other side, obviously to open the watch, but somehow it had always been jammed shut and no matter how much he tried he had never been able to open it. Frowning in frustration as it once again refused to open, he turned it over and examined the strange set of... runes? carved on there. It was something important, he was sure of that... But didn't quite know what.

Another curious thing (and slightly disturbing) about it was that there seemed to be some sort of cloaking... charm over it to prevent people from realizing it was there at all. All of the times he had been in the infirmary, woken up, dressed in the hospital clothes, wand on the bedside table, Madam Pomfrey never seemed to realize there was anything at all. Even Dumbledore hadn't seen anything on the times he had visited Harry in the Hospital wing.

One time he had been close, but then the old man's eyes seemed to glaze over and pass over the watch without a second glance. He was pretty sure that if Tonks was watching him right now, she probably just saw him examining his hands or something. Sighing, he slowly slipped the fob watch under his dirty shirt and shifted to lie under the tree, were he still had a perfect view to the stars.

And he promptly fell asleep.

Harry was woken to the feeling of someone, or rather, something poking him.

He opened one eyes and was surprised to find Dudley standing there, with one of his friends from Smeltings (whose name Harry never bothered to learn), prodding him with a long stick as if worried he might contract some horrible sickness, but smirking for his friend's benefit.

Harry slowly opened his other eyes and stared at them impassively, as if they were mere insects, dirt on his feet. Which they technically were. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes, he was getting a tad too arrogant about his own genius mind.

"So, Potter, how does it feel like to be at the end of the stick now?" Dudely asked, laughing to his joke which frankly didn't make any sense at all. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Would you like me to inform your mother that you have been brandishing, ah... sticks around the whole neighbourhood, pretending to be... wizards?"

Instantly, Dudley dropped the stick on the grass as if he had been burned and looked at the house a little fearfully, as if wondering whether his mother had been spying at him from the kitchen window.

"C'mon man, lets teach one of the kids at the park a lesson," Dudley told his friend who instantly nodded like a loyal dog did to his master, looking a little confused. Harry frowned as he himself gazed up at the house. With a glance at his fob watch, Harry realized that it was late morning, Vernon was most likely at work, but then again, Petunia's shouts were almost as bad as his. Shuddering involuntarily as he was reminded of the sound of her screeching, he sped off into the opposite direction to which Dudley had gone.

Maybe he could delay the confrontation until later.

...

Ah, bookshops. He loved them, well, bookshops and libraries. He loved that smell of books, the knowledge hidden in the pages... God, he was starting to sound like Hermione.

There was a small bookshop in Little Whinging, in the part of town where the more sophisticated people lived. It was a small house, just two floors big with many many books about science. Harry had only been there once when he was younger to buy Dudley's school books. Harry had mostly gone to the library for books, not that the Dursleys knew that.

A small tinkle was heard throughout the shop as he pushed the door open and he smiled at the shopkeeper if only to look a little more presentable, after all, his clothes were a little dirty from the night spent outside. The woman frowned a little but didn't say anything, instead she just turned back to her paperwork.

Rolling his eyes, Harry remembered that he had been planning to buy some proper clothes this year... ah well, that could wait. After all, he'd gone fourteen, soon fifteen years without proper clothes, he could survive another few days. The shop was empty except a dark skinned boy, a little younger than Harry, and his... nanny?

They were in the science section of the store (the one he wanted to see as well), and arguing hotly but quietly, gesturing wildly at the basket at the boys feet which was filled with books. As he approached them, Harry glanced at the basked and hummed an odd tune... Ah, all books about astronomy. Ignoring them, Harry started to browse through the huge amount of books, smiling now and then when he encountered a book he had read and liked. Well, in reality, he had read all of them, except the new editions.

Behind him, the argument was getting louder and sighing Harry turned around.

"You know, your nanny is right, you don't need all these books," Harry said happily, gesturing to the basket as the two turned to face him. He picked up the first book from the pile and flickered through it, remembering the time he had read it. Harry held the book up to show them the title, A brief history of time, by Stephen Hawking.

"This book is well written, and a brilliant introduction to Astronomy, however, the theory isn't completely right." He had even calculated everything Hawking claimed to be the truth, just to be sure. Harry then picked out the next book... and then the next... all fifteen of them, until eventually only three books remained in the basket, making it much lighter and much more affordable.

Grinning madly Harry extended his hand to the woman.

"Harry Potter." She stared at him for another few seconds, seemingly remembering something, and then shook Harry's hand.

"Jenna Coleman." She then gestured to her charge who was staring at Harry with amazement, "this is my charge, Kassius Johnson."

Inwardly, Harry frowned as the names seemed to strike a familiar cord somewhere. Where had he heard them before? Where? Outwardly, though, he grinned happily at them and bounded off to the other end of the library to look for books he hadn't yet read.

It was almost half an hour later when Harry felt the sofa near him dip a little as someone sat down at the other end. Seeing as Harry hadn't heard the bell twinkling, he concluded that the two other shoppers were still browsing the library and no one else had entered either.

"Bow ties, seriously?" The voice sounded playful, but a little strained and Harry looked up from the book at the lady from before who was staring at him, as if testing him for whatever reason. Shrugging, he joyfully said-

"Bow ties are cool." He had worn bow ties in several occasions now, once for the yule ball, then that time when they had a haloween dress up party. There was also that time when the Masons had come over, the summer before his fourth year to give the 'deal' another chance. The Dursleys had no choice but to show Harry as the two guests had already known about him. Vernon had given him (in Vernon's opinion) the most hideous bow tie in history. Personally, Harry actually thought it was very nice... then again, that was Harry's weird sense of fashion no one seemed to understand.

By now he had turned back to the book, and if he had been paying attention to the girl, he'd have seen the very shocked and slightly frightful expression on the girls face.

And then as quick as she had come, she was gone. Frowning, Harry put the book about bow ties back into the shelf and with a hasty farewell to the shopkeeper (who was looking at him suspiciously) he quickly left the store thinking that the encounter had been a tad too weird for him.

...

When he reached his 'home', the Dursleys were gone (thankfully), so Harry had to rely on his two little metal clips to open the door which he managed quite rapidly when he saw #5 peeking out the window. The living room was probably the only cool (temperature) room in the whole house as the Dursleys spent most of their time there and therefore had decided that they weren't going to waste anymore energy anywhere else in the house, even if it was to cool it down.

Happy that he had been able to avoid any arguments with this aunt and uncle, Harry bounded up the steps, and quickly retreated into his room where he sat down on his bed and pulled out the fob watch which had been heating up in the last two hours, burning his chest slightly.

Harry yelped and dropped it as it got to hot to touch. It fell down to the floor with a clang but surprisingly didn't burn the wooden floor.

Frowning, Harry grabbed a dirty shirt from the corner of the room and quickly covered it around his hand. He then proceeded to touch the watch. Seconds later, the shirt had a large smoking hole in it.

"What are you?" Harry muttered as he circled the item that had been hanging around his neck his whole life, with something akin to betrayal. He was about to try to poke it with a stray pencil lying on his desk when the watch started glowing brightly.

Whether it was from the heat... or from whatever other reason, Harry didn't know.

And then suddenly, as if heaving something exceptionally heavy, the lid opened.

...

And then suddenly, as if heaving something exceptionally heavy, the lid opened.

Harry shouted out as excruciating pain pierced his very being. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where he was... white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain; he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life.

It was like someone was remodelling his whole genetic structure, tearing every piece away from the other to then put it back in another way.

Then suddenly, the pain subsided almost as quickly as when it had come, leaving a dull throbbing in it's place. And then he knew.

He remembered.

There.

New story. Love it? hate it? Should I spend my time on it?

Anyway, if you want to, and if you have time, and you want to, and you have time... please review. No pressure.

So, thanks for reading.