Title: All According to the Master Plan
Author: TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel
Story Summary: Harry is taken in at a young age by a psychopathic Time Lord planning to conquer Earth using the wizarding world, and his human wife. It's a very different Harry Potter who comes to Hogwarts. Harry Potter/Doctor Who crossover. Probably counts as crack!fic.
Author notes:
The Master's a bit OOC in this… oops. If I write any more of it I'll try to correct that.
ALL ACCORDING TO THE MASTER PLAN
THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE
Sometime in 1987…
The Master was in an irritated mood. Humans were stupid. Why did they have to prove it so often?
His attention was caught suddenly by a small boy on the street, gazing up at a man. The boy was dressed in shabby, stained clothing, and his hair was a mess, but behind the clumsily-mended glasses green eyes stared compellingly.
The Master watched in surprised amusement as the man handed over the contents of his wallet before the boy dashed into the nearest alley. The man seemed to come to himself and ran after him, shouting angrily, but the boy was gone.
The Master waited until the boy's victim was gone, then strolled into the alley.
"You're a precocious one, aren't you?" he grinned.
The boy looked up in shock and wariness from his hiding place.
"A human child, hypnotising passing fools? That's new. Tell me your name."
The last was said suddenly cold and compellingly.
The boy opened his mouth –and stopped. His eyes went wide.
"You can do it too?"
"Oh, I'm brilliant at it," the Master smirked. "The Master of it, you could say. What's your name?"
The boy hesitated, gazing searchingly.
"Harry," he admitted finally.
The Master smirked further. The boy's name was Harry? Oh, that was amusing.
"Come with me, and I'll teach you how to use your ability properly," he said.
The boy went with him.
o0o o0o o0o
Lucy took an instant liking to the child.
"He had beautiful eyes," she noted.
"And his name's Harry," the Master grinned.
In the end they more or less adopted the boy. Lucy liked him and he satisfied her vague maternal instincts, and he proved to have an active intelligence which combined with his talents meant he had a great deal of potential which the Master was determined to use. Although sometimes it got a bit confusing with two Harrys, as Lucy still never called the Master anything but that name. Still, it was only a minor issue.
After a few weeks they discovered by accident that a natural gift for mental control wasn't Harry's only ability.
The Master rattled on jubilantly about psycho-kinetic projections of energy, and looked like he was going to dance, and kissed Lucy, before explaining to a bewildered and slightly apprehensive Harry exactly what it was he could do: magic.
By exploring some secret government-run sections of the internet that were supposed to be utterly off-limits to most of the population, the Master discovered that there was in fact an entire hidden world of magic users.
He also discovered, entirely by accident, that there was a lot more to Harry's history than any of them knew.
Harry was a useful resource indeed. Far too valuable to be wasted.
The Master began shortly thereafter to train Harry in everything remotely useful. Harry, and the wizarding world, was his key to ruling the planet. If Harry could gain control of the wizards, then the Master would have an army that none of the other humans could easily defeat – perfect for conquering the Earth.
Not even the Doctor would be able to stop him this time.
o0o o0o o0o
Several years later...
Harry said goodbye to Lucy and the Master, nodded dutifully at the pieces of advice he was given (mostly on how to win influence and manipulate people, although Lucy reminded him to make sure he ate healthily and wrote to her every week) and boarded the train.
Finding an empty carriage near the back, he settled down with some of his extra reading. He'd already read all of his school texts, as well as a whole lot of extra wizarding books that looked extremely useful – wizarding history, politics, dark magic, that sort of thing.
Harry was halfway through the first chapter of a book on mind magics when the door to the compartment opened.
"Mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full," said a gangling redheaded boy.
"As long as you're interesting," Harry replied, still immersed in his book.
"Um..."
Harry repressed the urge to roll his eyes and shut his book, pasting a smile on his face.
"Just sit down," he advised the boy, who lost his uncertain air and sat down.
"I'm Ron Weasley," he offered.
Harry held out his hand with a smile.
"Harry Potter," he introduced himself.
The boy – whom Harry was now quite sure was a moron – gaped at him unattractively.
"Blimey! Are you really?" He realised that Harry was still holding his hand out and flushed up to the tips of his ears. He shook hands in a lax, sweaty grip. Harry hid his disgust.
"Really," Harry affirmed, and politely went back to reading.
The boy proceeded to natter on at him stupidly about everything that entered his head, mostly about the wizard sport Quidditch and his large, boring family. Harry was seriously considering hypnotising him shut up when quite by accident Ron wandered onto a relevant topic: how everyone viewed Harry.
"My whole family's been in Gryffindor," Ron was talking about the impending Sorting. "I expect you'll be in Gryffindor too."
Harry's pretense of interest was suddenly genuine.
"Why?"
Ron looked at him as though it were obvious.
"Well, I mean, you defeated You-Know-Who," he told Harry. "You're a hero. Where else would you go?"
Harry nodded slowly.
"It makes sense."
Ron by this time thought them firm friends, and so ventured to ask:
"Do you remember any of it? Of – Him, I mean?"
"A little," Harry said soberly.
Ron lapsed into awed silence.
"Wow."
There was blessed quiet for the next several minutes as he watched Harry respectfully.
Then the door banged open.
"Excuse me, but have any of you seen a toad?" demanded an officious girl of about their own age with bushy hair. "Neville's lost one."
"No," Ron said rudely.
She frowned at him.
"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?"
Harry brought up the charming smile and stood.
"Harry Potter," he held out a hand.
"Oh!" The girl was flustered, and shook his hand quickly. Then she recovered a bit. "Are you really? I've read all about you, of course."
"Have you? Well, I wouldn't put too much store by what they said. None of them have ever bothered to contact me about what happened, and I've had a look through most of them and some of their accounts of the night Voldemort fell, and they're pretty inaccurate. Pure speculation, mostly."
"Oh." The girl's face fell ludicrously.
"So, you've read most of the school texts, then?" Harry prompted.
"Oh yes, I've read all of them," Hermione cheered up. Harry heard Ron mutter "swot."
Harry smiled pleasantly.
"I have too. We'll have to discuss them some time. Have you read about Hogwarts houses?"
"Of course," Hermione said loftily. "I think Ravenclaw sounds interesting, don't you? But I hope I'm in Gryffindor. I heard that's where Dumbledore himself went."
Harry stored that away with the rest of the pertinent information.
"Was it? Well, it's supposed to be a house for bravery, and he did defeat Grindelwald. I'm not entirely sure where I'll end up; after all, all of the houses have something to recommend them."
"Not Slytherin," Ron announced disgustedly. "Everyone who ever went bad was in Slytherin. Even You-Know-Who. It's full of dark wizards."
Harry made a mental note that clearly, he was to avoid being Sorted into Slytherin at all costs.
"That seems a bit exaggerated, Ron."
Cue the opening of the door. In swaggered a young blonde boy with two hulking boys on either side of him. He looked at the three occupants of the carriage, and dismissed Ron and Hermione as beneath his notice.
"Are you Harry Potter?" he demanded arrogantly.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"I am. And you are?"
"Draco Malfoy," the boy announced. There was a snort from Ron. Draco glared.
"No need to ask who you are," he sniffed disdainfully. "Red hair, freckles, and hand-me-down clothing? You must be a Weasley."
"Are you usually this charming and well-mannered?" Harry asked, a sardonic note threading through his voice as Ron turned bright red.
Draco frowned at him.
"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
He held out a hand to Harry.
Harry shook it, but said,
"Thanks for the offer, Draco, but I don't think we have quite the same ideas about what exactly constitutes 'the wrong sort.' I hope that we can both get on well just the same," Harry said affably. He had to maintain his hero image, but all the same didn't want to lose the possibility of Draco's connections.
Draco clearly wasn't happy about being turned down, but in the face of Harry's smile wasn't sure how to respond.
"I'll see you later, Potter," he said unsurely, and left with his two goons.
"What an ill-mannered boy," Hermione said.
"True, but I don't see why I need to make enemies this early," Harry said. "I mean, we haven't even reached the school yet."
"You don't want to be friends with him," Ron muttered. "His father was a Death Eater."
Harry just shrugged.
"Well, I'd best continue looking for Neville's toad," Hermione said reluctantly. "I'll see you at Hogwarts."
She left the compartment, leaving Harry once again to read his book and try to ignore Ron while looking as though he was listening intently.
-
At Hogwarts, Harry looked around the Great Hall with calculating eyes. His gaze lingered on the teachers.
One of them was glaring at him; he didn't know what he'd done to incur their wrath, but they obviously disliked him.
Harry listened with amusement to the Hat's song and waited through the Sorting. Hermione Granger was Sorted into Gryffindor, as was the boy named Neville, who made the hall laugh when he first tripped over the stool, and then walked off still wearing the Sorting Hat and had to return to the front of the hall to give it back. Draco Malfoy was Sorted into Slytherin as soon as the Hat touched his head, and strutted off with a smirk. The boy had potential, Harry mused idly, but was surrounded by such a cloud of arrogance and expectation that it was doubtful such potential would be realised. He much preferred Hermione; while blunt and bossy, she had a sharp mind. Harry also just plain liked her better.
"Potter, Harry!"
As the murmurs started and all eyes turned to him, Harry strode forward with an air of quiet confidence.
The Hat settled down on his head and slipped over his eyes.
Harry felt the questing feel of the spells and let them find his mind.
"What have we here?" asked a dry voice. Then: "You've been raised by a Time Lord?! Oh great Ceridwen, we're in trouble!" The horror settled down into a more contemplative tone. "Albus doesn't know what he's got himself into on this one. So, where shall I sort you?"
"Gryffindor would be preferable," Harry returned. "Not Slytherin, at all costs."
"Really?" There was a sly note in the Hat's voice. "You're practically a model Slytherin. It could help you on your way to greatness."
"No. At this point Slytherin would only hinder it," Harry said calmly. "Not Slytherin."
"Hmph. Very well. Ravenclaw would suit you nearly as well. But Gryffindor?" There was a pause. "Perhaps it would do well for you after all. That kind of influence would bring out some of your better aspects that have been submerged until now. Very well. GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry replaced the Hat on the stool and joined the Gryffindor table, smiling warmly. A couple of red-haired clones were yelling "we got Potter!" and doing some sort of stationary victory dance.
Harry sat next to Hermione and smiled a genuine smile.
All good on the master plan so far.
o0o o0o o0o
Harry soon settled into life at Hogwarts. He'd seen and heard some odd stuff living with the Master and Lucy, so wizard life didn't faze him much.
He did his best to life up to the 'heroic Gryffindor' role without doing anything stupid, or cutting out anyone useful. He walked a fine line with Draco Malfoy, cultivating that acquaintance without making anyone shake their heads darkly and mutter about snakes. Harry's blandly impartiality on house affiliation was useful here; everyone knew by now that Harry wouldn't reject anyone based on their house as long as they behaved reasonably well. Unfortunately Malfoy was a bumptious little cretin who was far too blatant about his prejudices, which made it difficult for Harry. Moron Weasley was another close-minded bigot, albeit a more socially-acceptable one, but he didn't have the brains or the ambition of Draco.
As for the rest of Hogwarts, Harry established ties where he could, as the likeable, friendly Golden Boy. In particular Hermione Granger, while socially inept, was a brilliant mind with a crusading instinct. She was horribly annoying at times, but Harry was slowly working on her flaws. Give her a few years and she'd be a fantastic right-hand minion.
Harry's classes presented a nice challenge, although he had grave problems with two f the teachers: Snape, and Quirrell.
Snape, it was established in his first potions lesson, hated Harry's guts. Harry dealt with it coolly, putting on a false righteously outraged act at the way Snape treated him while actually dealing with the professor in a calculating and careful manner. More concerning was the way that Snape had tried repeatedly to gain entry to Harry's mind. The other students might apostrophise him as a greasy old bat, but Harry knew that he was a dangerous man, and far too shrewd for Harry's liking. He was contemplating hypnotising the man, but wasn't sure if even his skills, honed as they were, would be good enough.
Quirrell was an entirely different problem. If Harry was correct, and the Master had taught him how to put things together, then the man was harbouring the shade of the dark lord Voldemort.
Harry couldn't have that. There was only one person going to rule the wizarding world, and it was him. No sorry excuse for a dark lord was going to ruin his plans.
So Harry investigated.
o0o o0o o0o
Over Christmas Harry returned to Lucy and the Master. They tended to change residences regularly, living unsuspected in untenanted apartments or hypnotising the landlord into letting them live there for free. For the Christmas holidays they'd acquired residence in a nice roomy house, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Harry spent the holidays catching up on his training, and listening to the Master update his plans.
"How are things going at Hogwarts?" the Master wanted to know.
Harry frowned in thought.
"I'm doing my best to cement my hero image and gain everyone's trust; it's working fairly well so far although Dumbledore will be an obstruction once I graduate. At the moment there's a teacher called Snape who I may need to hypnotise, only I don't know whether I'm good enough at it yet. Also, Voldemort's spirit is possessing one of the other teachers."
The Master's expression darkened. He hated opposition.
"Is he going to be a problem?"
"Not at the moment," Harry said.
At this point Lucy came in to ask Harry whether he wanted to come shopping with her. Harry enjoyed her company, and didn't mind proffering advice on anything from whether a given piece of clothing complemented Lucy's complexion, to whether or not the Master would like to own some gadget Lucy had spotted. Harry also knew how to make the ATMs dispense free money using magic.
"Lucy my little ape, you are interrupting an important conversation. He can go shopping with you later. Go away."
Lucy went away again, unperturbed.
"I can take care of him at the moment," Harry continued, "but we need to find a way to kill him properly. If he ever gets resurrected he'll be major competition – I mean, we could handle him, but he'd mess up our plans."
"Find out what you can. Keep winning people to your side. I'll think about the problem," the Master said. "Now go keep my dear wife company as she shops." He smirked. "Brush up on your skills. Shoo, you little scamp. I have things to do."
On Christmas day Harry anonymously received an invisibility cloak that had apparently once belonged to his father, which would make things easier. He wasn't sure who had sent it, but suspected Dumbledore.
At the end of the holidays he returned to school, ready to resume the operation to slowly win power and influence in the wizarding world.
o0o o0o o0o
One night Harry discovered an old, ornately-framed mirror in an abandoned classroom. There was an inscription around the edge: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.
"I show not your face but your heart's desire," Harry murmured, working out the puzzle in his head.
He moved closer.
Reflected in the mirror was himself, much older, thin and muscular and with a hard dangerous look in his focused green eyes. Hermione stood slightly behind him with a hand on his arm, her own eyes fierce and determined. On the other side next to Harry the Master was laughing, standing in a triumphant pose, the malice and murderous madness shining out of his eyes. Next to him stood Lucy, smiling absently; standing slightly apart from all of them was a brown-eyed little blonde girl, wide-eyed and solemn, holding a set of technical sketches. She was watching Harry with an impassive, speculative gaze, which held a hint of something darker and more possessive.
Interesting, Harry thought.
He returned a couple more times to gaze at the vision, noting details and logging them away.
The third night a voice suddenly asked,
"Back again, Harry?"
Harry turned in unfeigned surprise to see the headmaster. The blue eyes were kindly and twinkling, but Harry knew that the depths below held much more than the grandfatherly benevolence they presented.
"I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore commented, smiling. Harry marked down his theory as confirmed; it was indeed Dumbledore who had sent him the cloak at Christmas. "So," Dumbledore continued, joining Harry by the mirror, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
Harry's brain automatically ran the name through a possible-meanings filter and came up with the answer: 'desire,' written backwards, just as the mirror's inscription was.
"I expect you've realised by now what it does?" Dumbledore inquired, seeming genuinely curious.
Harry looked back into the mirror, at the vision of a possible future.
"It shows us our desires."
"Well done," Dumbledore was apparently pleased that he'd worked it out. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If ever you do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry took one last, long look at himself and Hermione, the Master and Lucy and the child, and turned away.
"Goodnight, professor." For a moment he was going to ask what the headmaster saw, but decided against it.
o0o o0o o0o
By the end of the year Harry had a pretty good idea what was going on with Voldemort. He and his sidekicks – Hermione the brain, Neville the moral support, and Ron the idiotic comic relief – bumbled about in heroically investigative style, Harry prompting the others until they came to the correct conclusion on their own.
When Quirrell made his move, Harry made a heroic speech to his friends about stopping evil, and went down to confront him.
Harry walked through the flames to see Quirrell eyeing himself in a familiar mirror.
"Voldemort," he greeted him.
Quirrell whirled in shock.
"Potter!"
"I'm going to stop you," Harry informed him.
Quirrell laughed and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off.
"I'm not talking to you," he said coldly. "You are of no importance, merely a weak pawn. I address Voldemort."
"Let me speak to him," hissed a wraithlike voice. "Face to face…"
"Master," Quirrell was suddenly scared and unsure, confidence gone, "you are not strong enough…"
"I have strength enough for this."
Quirrell unwrapped his turban and presented the back of his head, to reveal a frightening, unnatural face with red eyes and flat slits for nostrils and a mere slit of a mouth.
"See what I have become?" Voldemort demanded. "Mere shadow and vapour… I have form only when I can share another's body…"
"You're a washed-up failure of a Dark Lord," Harry snorted.
Voldemort hissed in anger.
"Impudent, insolent boy… yet you might be useful. Think, boy. Join me… there is no good or evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it…"
Harry laughed. It was a cold, amused, malicious laugh like one of the Master's without the madness, and it rang around the chamber, echoing off stone and making Voldemort pause suddenly, sensing a misstep.
"Why on earth would I seek it from you when I have it already?" Harry gave a cruel smirk. "Reducto!"
He'd aimed at the forehead.
He watched the corpse fall to the floor and Voldemort's presence dissipate. Then he walked over to the mirror and stared into it for a moment.
A minute later he pulled a blood-red stone out of his pocket, looked at it amusedly, and waited for the headmaster to arrive as he concocted a tale of great daring and bravery.
o0o o0o o0o
Harry said goodbye to his friends, promising to write and to visit when he could, then walked over to where Lucy stood waiting, smiling gently.
"Did you have a nice time at school?" she asked Harry, pulling him into a hug which he returned happily.
"Fantastic." He'd noticed some changes in her figure during the hug. "Do you have an announcement?"
Lucy smiled.
"I'm having a baby."
Harry smiled, genuinely happy for her.
"Congratulations."
"Harry was delighted. Come along, Harry. We have plans."
END
…for now
cue evil laugh