"EXTERMINATE!" a loud voice shouted in the doorway of the bedroom. Harry Potter sighed and pulled his pillow on top of his head, trying to block out the noise and wondering why everybody in his family woke up so bloody early on the weekend. He wearily glanced to the side to look at the alarm clock on his bedside table. Yep. 7:30. Bloody early.

"EXTERMINATE1" the sound again echoed loudly around the room. Pulling the pillow even tighter around his ears, Harry simultaneously racked his brain for the possible source of the noise when he felt an elbow jab into his shoulder. Looking to the side, his wife's tired eyes gazed up at him. Wearily, Ginny whispered, "It's your turn to deal with him, Harry." Sighing, she too pulled a pillow over her head and cuddled back under the covers.

Confused at the meaning of her words, Harry sat up in bed; exhaustion replaced by curiosity, and stared in the doorway. Almost immediately as he saw the source of the loud, monotonous sound, he sighed again and wondered how he could have possibly thought the noise was anything else.

Kneeling in the doorway was a young boy about eight years old in blue and white striped pyjamas. His brownish black hair wildly spread out on his head, he held a plunger to the top of his forehead. Seeing his father upright in bed, he slowly walked over to the edge of the bed, holding the plunger high. "EXTERMINATE HARRY POTTER!" he shouted in a monotone as he came ever closer to Harry's side.

Getting up out of bed, Harry stood in front of his son. "Albus put the plunger away please. I'm going to go make some oatmeal right now. Go to your room and get changed. You know your mum wants to sleep a bit longer," he stated, staring Albus in the eyes.

However, Albus refused to put the plunger away. A determined look on his face, he continued talking in that monotone of his. "I AM NOT ALBUS," he said, "I AM A DALEK. AND I HAVE COME TO EXTERMINATE HARRY-"

But he couldn't complete his sentence because, tired of his son's antics, Harry had whisked away the plunger from Albus' ands and lifted the boy up in a big swoop. Albus giggled and tried to wrench free from his father's grasp as he rushed down the stairs. After placing his son in a chair and rushing to the refrigerator to get some instant oatmeal and strawberries, he quickly fixed breakfast and placed it on the table for Albus and him, thanking goodness that James was at a sports event at the moment and Lily at a friend's house.

When his son was done eating, he decided to ask him what he wanted to do. Harry mentally grumbled as he remembered the interview he had to go to at the Daily Prophet later in the day.

"So, Albus, what do you want to do this fine Saturday?"

Playing with his spoon, Albus answered. "Watch telly."

"Okay. Movie or show?" Harry asked back. He glanced at the TV that he had somehow made work in his magical household.

Albus smiled at his father, moving over to his usual spot on the couch. "Show of course."

"Which one?" Harry knew the answer before he asked.

Now on the sofa, rocking back and forth, his son stared at Harry. "You know which one, Daddy."

Sighing as he went to the cabinet where Ginny kept every sort of media they owned, he retorted, "Which series?"

"Two, please!" Albus' rocking became more frantic as he imagined the bliss to come.

And that was how Harry was stuck listening to the Doctor Who theme song all morning long.

Massaging his temples as he heard the notes for the millionth time that day, Harry contemplated how Albus had gotten so into this programme.

Albus had come down sick with some sort of illness. A cold, a flu- who knew. But the only thing that Albus had strength to do amidst his coughs and sniffles was to watch television.

However, there hadn't really been anything good on. There were maybe a few horrible kids shows on the local station and of course, the ever-present news. But just as Harry was about to cut it off, Albus pointed to the picture on the screen. "I want to watch that, Dad."

Harry looked at the television screen to see a man with horribly messy brown hair and sideburns run across some strange-looking grass, holding hands with a blonde woman. The man had funny brown-rimmed glasses on and was waving a metal instrument in the air. After watching it for a couple of seconds and deciding that it was appropriate for his son, he went to go look over some of his reports from the Auror department.

He had no idea of the obsession to follow.

It turned out that what Albus had seen was a sci-fi show called Doctor Who. And his son loved every second. Soon, before he and Ginny even knew what was happening, they had bought every series of the show to date- so that would be about six. He was soon goaded into watching the programme with his son and he had to admit it was better than a lot of shows he had seen on television before. But he just didn't understand Albus' total infatuation with it. He had to watch a show almost everyday. And now, he spent hours pretending to be the Doctor, or Rose or Martha or Donna or Amy or even Jack- any other companion on the show. He even liked to be the Master or, as he had recently taken to, one of the Doctor's mortal enemies- the Daleks. He had even requested a model of the Doctor's spaceship, the TARDIS, for his birthday.

Frankly, Harry was now tired after six months. Tired of the role-play and the fantasy of it all. Tired of inside jokes and references he didn't understand. Just thinking about it made his head hurt, and Harry soon found himself settling into a nice, nice nap.

He woke up with a start. How long had he been asleep? And what was that peculiar sound? Deciding to investigate the strange whirring and wheezing noise that sounded as if it was coming from the yard, Harry pulled pack the blinds in front of the sitting room windows. His mouth dropped open. It couldn't be. No, it couldn't possibly be, it was just pretend…

A blue police box was standing, half visible, in Ginny's petunias.

"What is it, Dad?" Albus asked, looking up from the telly.

Gulping, Harry looked at his son, readjusting his glasses. "Well son," he said, glancing outside the window again, "the TARDIS may be in our front yard."

Yay! It's done! Right now, I'm kind of too tired to do one of my usual long author's notes, so I'm just going to say, hope you enjoyed cute obsessed Albus! The inspiration came from my seven-year-old cousin who is currently obsessed with Doctor Who like me.