Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Doctor Who-or anything else, really. Woe is me :(

Author's Note: I started writing this story for my bff while she was at Boot Camp, to cheer her up. I do not actually know anything about Doctor Who; I am writing this to make my friend laugh. If you find any glaring errors, point them out (politely, please) and unless they're too closely entwined with the plot to fix, I'll fix them.

Speaking of plot...this is not the story I started writing. Somewhere along the way, I lost my mind, and what was intended to be Year Five, just with The Doctor and Sirius not dying, turned into...this. Don't take it too seriously; I'm certainly not :P


Chapter One: Harry Makes a New Friend

It was warm for a November night. More like a July or August night, really. There was a slight breeze, though, that kept the night from becoming uncomfortable. Most people, once they'd decided to go to bed, hadn't had any trouble falling asleep.

Most people.

Harry scowled as he tossed another stone into the lake. It skipped once, then dropped to the bottom of the lake, causing his scowl to deepen.

After the events of the summer—the Dementor attack, the trial, having to clean bloody 12 Grimmauld Place—he should be happy—no, ecstatic—to be back at Hogwarts. The Wizarding World, for all its quirks and faults, usually felt more like home than anywhere else ever had.

Not this year. Finding out about the lies The Daily Prophet was printing had been a blow, but seeing his classmates, his Housemates—people he had thought of as his friends—look at him with fear and distrust in their eyes, had hurt worse. Much worse.

Glaring even more fiercely just thinking about it, Harry picked up another stone to throw.

VROOP VROOP

Whirling to face the Forbidden Forest, he strained his eyes, trying to spot whatever had made such a weird sound. He'd never heard anything like it before. As the sound of snapping twigs and wordless grumbling became louder—"wordless" because though he could hear someone speaking, he couldn't make out what they were saying—Harry dropped the stone and yanked his wand out of his back pocket, aiming it in the general direction of where the sounds were coming from.

"Who's there?" Harry called, just as a man broke out of the last line of underbrush and exited the Forest.

His hair was brown, as far as Harry could tell in the fading light, and was quite a mess, much like the wizard's own. He was wearing, of all things, a pair of blue jeans with a plaid button down shirt, a brown tweed jacket, and a red bow tie. He looked rather like a Muggle—no wizard Harry'd ever met would've been able to put together such a "normal" outfit—but how could a Muggle have found his way onto school grounds?

The man looked around, excitement and awe dancing madly across his face—and soon he himself was dancing madly, too, like a little child let loose in a toy store. Harry couldn't help but smile.

After a few moments, the man spotted him and came striding eagerly forward. "Hello!" he exclaimed, thrusting his hand out and smiling widely, "I'm The Doctor!"

Harry stared at him for a few moments. He didn't feel like a threat—after so many years fighting evil, Harry felt he'd developed a sort of sixth sense for it. And this man, strange as he seemed, didn't strike him as evil.

"Harry Potter," he eventually replied, shaking the man's hand and wondering what it meant that the man apparently hadn't recognized him. "I'm sorry, but—you said your name's 'The Doctor'?"

Who the bloody hell names their kid "The Doctor"?

"Yep. At least—I think that's what I said." He looked a bit unsure for a moment, then shrugged and smiled. "It's great to finally meet you, Harry—although," The Doctor hesitated for a moment, eyeing him a bit uncertainly, "you do look a bit younger than I'd expected."

"Er, I'm sorry?"

The Doctor waved his apology away. "It's hardly your fault. Your relatives—hang on," he interrupted himself. "What year is it?"
"1995," Harry replied, confused.

The Doctor just stared at him for a few moments, a look of complete bewilderment on his face. "Really? Are you sure? Huh," he continued, not giving Harry time to answer, "that's odd. Oh well, see you in a few years, I suppose." He grinned and shook Harry's hand again. "It was nice to meet you, Harry. Take care of yourself, okay?" He then turned and strolled off back into the Forest.

Harry stood there for a minute or two, staring after him and wondering what the bloody hell had just happened.

The Sorting Hat hadn't placed him in Gryffindor for nothing, though, so eventually he snapped out of it and started jogging towards the forest. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what was going on; Harry didn't really think the strange man he'd just met would be able to defend himself against any monsters he came across. He seemed to be flying a few sticks short of a broom.

~o~o~

Despite The Doctor's head start, it wasn't hard for Harry to catch up to him. The man didn't seem to be in any particular hurry, and wasn't even trying to be quiet. Harry heard his inarticulate muttering long before he saw him.

"You know," Harry began, breathing a bit heavily as he rejoined The Doctor, "it's really not a good idea to go wandering around the Forest by yourself."

"Oh? You should've stayed by the lake, then," The Doctor replied, glancing at him and grinning. "I'm not going to be around to walk you back."

"About that…where exactly do you think you're going? There's nothing in this direction but more forest."

"Actually, there is something besides forest in this direction."

"Really? And what's that?"

The Doctor didn't say anything, just grinned again and gestured for Harry to walk ahead of him.

A few moments later, Harry found himself wondering if he was the one who'd lost his mind.

He was in a small, roughly circular clearing, staring at what appeared to be an old-fashioned telephone box, painted blue and with the words "Police Public Call Box" painted across the top. It had a lantern perched on the roof, and both it and the box were glowing slightly. He wasn't sure what to make of it; who would put a telephone box here, of all places?

Though, if there was one place where people often needed to call for help…

"This is the TARDIS-the Time and Relative Dimension in Space machine." The Doctor explained, strolling over and patting the side of the box fondly. "We've been on many adventures together. Hopefully I'll get tell you about some of them when I get back." Grinning mischievously at Harry, he added, "Maybe we'll even have a few of our own."

Harry didn't answer right away, too busy gaping at him. After a few moments, he shook his head. "Hermione's going to kill me; she hates it when I sneak out and fall asleep somewhere."

The Doctor laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Sometimes I think I'm dreaming, too, until I realize that I'm not. Start thinking up times and places you'd like to visit, Harry. I'll take you to them when I get back." Then, with a friendly wave and yet another smile, he pushed the box's door open and walked inside.

Harry stood there, watching, as the box shimmered, shuddered, and slowly faded away. In a few moments, it was gone.