A/N: Originally written for my friend Jay's (also known as struthious, or accidentalsquid) birthday last year.
-x-
It is the doorbell that wakes you on the morning of your nineteenth birthday. It's early – ungodly early, considering the angle of the light coming through the window. You roll over groggily only to see the time on your clock; that's when you decide that anyone chipper enough to go about ringing doorbells at five in the morning could go hang themselves.
Problem is, the doorbell-ringer doesn't seem to be as enthusiastic about nooses as doorbells. The sound repeats again, and then a third time, and you bury your head beneath both pillow and comforter as you hear footsteps crossing the floor above.
Whoever it is seems to have no idea just how early it is – or at least, doesn't understand that there may be people still asleep. You hear a brief and enthusiastic, "Oh, but I'll only be a moment!" and then footsteps again. Wait – two sets of footsteps. And then – oh, horror! – the footsteps come bounding down the stairs and –
You hold your hands over your ears and slow your breathing, hoping for the perfect picture of sleep should the inevitable happen and –
The door opens.
Next you know, the comforter is ripped from the bed. You yelp and bolt upright as the lights are flipped on, momentarily blinding you. "Excuse me!" you cry, and squint an accusation to the source of your troubles.
If you had ever tried to imagine an unwelcome situation like this, you would never have anticipated the culprit that now stands beaming in the doorway. He's dressed in a striped suit and long coat, wearing converse, and is topped with a wild mop of brown hair reaching for the ceiling.
"Up an' at 'em!" he exclaims, and bounds forward to shake your hand. He's already pumping it furiously by the time you recover from the shock and snatch your hand away.
"What. Are you doing. In my room?" It's not so much a question as an irritated and pointed hint for him to get out now. Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to be clear to him.
"Birthday. It's your birthday, isn't it? Or did I get the date wrong again? Always doing that, rubbish TARDIS. Only not rubbish at all, just a little tired. She's done a lot of travelling, you see, and when there's all of time and space to choose from, it gets a little hard to pinpoint. Really, even fifty years off is a miracle – it's amazing she does better than that as regularly as she does. Good ol' girl."
It's much too early to sort through such excited ramblings of a strange man in your bedroom. "Who on earth-?"
"The Doctor, Jay. Ta-da! Look a bit different, but it's still me. Happy birthday, by the way. Or did I say that already?"
"It's five in the morning."
"Five thirteen, actually. Are you coming or not?"
It suddenly occurs to you that for the first time in your life, you are actually experiencing a dream that may be bizarre enough to remember after you wake up.
Your mom appears in the doorway behind the doctor man. "Is there a reason for the bird?" she asks dryly. It's obvious you aren't the only one unimpressed with the early social visit.
"Bird?" you repeat.
"Bird?" the man echoes. Then, his face clears. "Oh – you mean the owl. Whole reason I came! Well – half the reason. See, it's my fault, I'm afraid. I didn't mean for the TARDIS to materialize around the owl, it just sort of happened, and then I thought – I thought, "Hey, Jay's always said she'd like an owl for a pet." And this guy's been searching for a home, so it seems rather perfect. Happy birthday!"
Again, it takes a moment to sort through the explanation. "You… brought me an owl… for my birthday?"
He takes no notice of your skepticism and merely disappears into the hall for a moment before returning with a large, ornate bird-cage in his arms. Patiently perched on the hanging bar is a snowy white owl who is much more calm than anyone else in the room.
"A Hogwarts owl!" he exclaims. "Just like you've always wanted!"
"Hogwarts!"
"Not a real one, of course. But you always said that you had dreamed of receiving a Hogwarts owl on your birthday, right? So here it is! Happy birthday!"
You stare in disbelief at this man, this impossible intruder and his owl. He is grinning quite cheerfully while the owl merely blinks.
"How did you know I always wanted an owl to come?"
It's amazing how quickly his face drops in horrified realization. "No," he says, "no." And then, one more time for good measure, "No. Can't be. What's the date – the year, I mean?"
You tell him without even understanding why you are doing so. You're more preoccupied with trying to figure out how to get this madman out of your house or, at the very least, your room.
"My mistake," he says hurriedly. "Like I said, TARDIS is hard to land correctly. Sorry, so sorry." He has started to back out of the room, bumping into your mom and turning to apologize profusely to her as well.
Both you and your mom are completely silent as you listen to the man bound back up the stairs and across the floor above, followed by the distinct slam of a front door. Your mom rubs at her eyes and shakes her head wearily. "A dream, right?" she asks.
Your mouth is hanging open. It takes a moment for you to remember how to work it. "Uh, yup," you respond. You scratch at your head in a tired confusion before flopping back to your pillow again.
-x-
Seven years in the future, the doorbell to your apartment will ring at precisely 5:10 in the morning. When you open the door, it will be to a grinning and quite familiar young man with a shock of brown hair and a large bird-cage in his arms.
"My mistake," he will say before you step to the side and allow him inside. "Happy birthday, Jay. Sorry I'm late. Er, was early. Er – you know."
"Doctor!" you will exclaim, "And the owl! Long time, no see." You'll bend over to take a close look at the bird as the Doctor sets the cage down on the floor. The owl will be just as impassive as you'll remember.
When you straighten up again, the Doctor will be grinning in the way you still remember. "So," he'll ask, "Up for another TARDIS trip?"