Harry walked into the TARDIS several hours later. He'd related what had happened from the moment he'd met the Doctor to the moment they'd arrived. Hermione and Ron had listened attentively, carefully holding their questions until after the tale had arrived.
Hermione was the one with most of the questions, the first one being who exactly is the Doctor. Unfortunately that was one of many questions that Harry couldn't answer. Ron knew that his questions had been the same, more or less, as Hermione's so he'd gladly let her take control.
In return the pair and told him of their travels, relating tales of the adventures, or lack there of, throughout most of Europe.
It was well past midnight by the time the group had broken up deciding it would be best to go to sleep now since Mrs. Weasley was sure to wake them up early for chores or something the like.
He expected to find the TARDIS deserted so when he walked in to find the Doctor lying under the console tinkering away he had been very surprised and had almost jumped in shock.
The Doctor had changed out of the pinstriped suit and into a set of faded, blue striped pajamas. The right pant leg of his pajamas was slightly scrunched revealing a white bandage, which closely resembled a long strip of cloth, covering practically the entire length of the man's lower leg.
Hermione must not have been kidding when she'd said that the burn was really bad. He didn't think that the Doctor was the kind of person to over bandage just for the heck of it leading him to surmise that it had been necessary.
Spiked hair poked out from under the console. "Ah, Harry, how'd it go?"
"Well I'm fairly sure they think I'm a nutter but otherwise pretty good." Harry walked further into the ship, sitting himself down on the bucket seats next to where the Doctor was working. He watched the man work under his machine for a few minutes before asking, "How's your leg?"
"Oh it's fine," the Doctor answered, waving off the concern in Harry's voice like he was swatting a fly. The wince that covered his face as he moved the leg betrayed his casual tone however and Harry wondered why the man couldn't just admit that he was in pain.
Would you if you had something important to do? Did you? Harry's mind reminded quietly.
The Doctor slid out from under the console and painfully eased off the grating floor. The first couple of steps he made were painstakingly slow and for the most part he barely put weight on his right leg but the more he walked, the lighter his limp became, although not by much.
"Right then, time for bed; we've got a big day tomorrow. Good night Harry."
Before Harry could ask what tomorrow held, the Doctor had skittered off into the depths of the TARDIS leaving Harry to ponder what was coming until he decided it was time for him to sleep as well.
He walked down into the same hall as the Doctor and soon found himself winding through the empty halls ending finally at a blank, metal door. Hesitating only slightly, Harry pushed the door open and stepped in.
The room wasn't plentiful but it definitely wasn't sparse either. It was a good size at 12ftX12ft with a bathroom attached. On the wall to his left sat a queen size bed adorned with several pillows, two of which were adorned with plain white pillow cases while the others were decorated in a maroon satin with gold stitching. The bedspread matched the maroon pillows, the gold stitching outlining a square around the length and width of the fabric.
On opposite sides of the bed sat deep mahogany bedside tables. One had a small lamp and a candlestick. The other held a clock just in case the room's occupant wanted to know the time.
To the left of the bed sat a chest of drawers that easily matched the bedside tables and sleigh bed mahogany frame. Harry thought it a bit presumptuous to provide a chest of drawers but then again he supposed he, and more than likely Ron and Hermione as well, would be staying on this ship for more than a day or two.
Looking around he noticed that nothing adorned the walls of the room and wondered why there weren't any pictures. Even in the most Spartan of muggle homes there was always at least one picture hanging around; something to show that someone lived there but here he found nothing.
Harry stood for a few more minutes taking in the room some more before he stepped fully in and closed the door. Now that he thought about it, the room was quite proper. Maybe this was merely a guest room and all the pictures were in the Doctor's room?
A jaw cracking yawn broke through the silence, driving Harry to get ready for bed. He pulled back the coves on the well made bed, surprised to find that the silky looking bedspread was actually softer than he thought it would be and the sheets weren't scratchy like he'd expected but soft, almost like crawling into a flannel covered bed with feathers for a mattress.
Harry allowed his thoughts to wander to the man that served as his host. The man was certainly a chatty, friendly fellow but there was a sense of authority and danger that flowed off him that made Harry not only curious but wary as well.
He could tell neither Ron nor Hermione trusted the Doctor and, given how little they all knew about the man, Harry couldn't really blame them. The main reason why he trusted the odd man was because he had saved his life; the reason he followed the man was because he was an enigma that Harry hoped to solve before this adventure that they were beginning was done.
There was only a few minutes of wondering done before Harry drifted off to sleep, thinking of unwrapping the mystery that was The Doctor.
The Doctor lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling. He couldn't believe that he'd actually met Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger! He supposed it had never been wholly out of the realm of possibility; his encounter with the Carrierknights had taught him that words were powerful enough to make thought into being but he didn't really count on ending up in the magical world of Harry Potter.
But why was he here? Why had the TARDIS brought him here? Surely it wasn't just so he could meet Harry Potter was it? Given that the signal for the remote controlled robots was covered by magical means there wasn't an alien about making a mess.
Granted he did save Harry from a rather fiery and unpleasant death which would have messed with the future as over three million readers knew it to be but this was an alternate universe so there was no guarantee that that future would actually happen.
Pain spiked hot and fierce in his leg making him hiss and grimace. He thanked his Time Lord endorphins for allowing him to focus on things other than his badly burnt leg but now that he had nothing else better to do than listen to his body, the leg was screaming at him.
Bloody robots and their fire, he cursed to himself. Thankfully he'd managed to keep Harry from getting too badly injured, he supposed the wizard's arm would be fine by tomorrow, but he hadn't been so lucky with himself.
Do you need some pain medication?
The Doctor smiled. His ship always worried about him when he was hurting no mater if it was just a simple headache or a few broken bones. He didn't mind the mothering from the ship as much as he used to and he supposed that was why she did it.
When he'd first met Rose, he'd been along for so long that he hadn't been used to someone taking care of him and when the ship tried he brushed her off. But the more he traveled with a human companion the more he slowly allowed both his companion and his ship to help take care of him.
A concerned hum wafted over him bringing him out of his amused musings. The TARDIS wasn't very patient for a machine that could manipulate time and space and she wanted an answer soon.
If you don't mind, thank you ol' girl. Originally he was going to reject the offer but the pain in his leg was climbing and he knew he wouldn't get a whole lot of sleep, which he needed if he wanted to heal quickly, if he didn't get some relief.
Hissing filled the air as the TARDIS released the pain medication in the form of a gas. She couldn't materialize and physically inject him with the dose so this was the next best thing.
She waited until her pilot, her Time Lord, was close to falling asleep before she began humming comfortingly to both of her occupants. The ship didn't know the wizard who had been allowed to enter and stay but she'd seen into his mind, rather easily at that, and she saw the horror he'd been subject to and risen above while remaining humble as well.
The TARDIS knew this boy was a good man. Yes he had a lot to learn, he could learn a few things from her Time Lord himself, but he was a good man and that endeared him to her, though it was only a little.
She continued her humming, wanting to keep her occupants asleep, careful to keep them safe, at least for tonight.
Ron, Hermione, and Harry sat on the floor of the bedroom in a triangle patiently waiting for the Doctor to emerge. Before them lay a spread of toast, butter, jam and some pumpkin juice; each item placed on separate plates with an additional four plates sitting in the middle. They'd told Mrs. Weasley that the Doctor wasn't feeling well this morning and wouldn't be able to make it down for breakfast so they were allowed to bring some up for him and eat it with him.
It wasn't really a lie, more like a half truth. Though they hadn't actually seen the Doctor yet that morning Harry had been more than willing to wager that the man wouldn't want to try to walk down the stairs, given how badly he was hurting last night.
They were each nibbling on a piece of toast and jam when the door to the blue police box opened and the Doctor stepped through, a wide grin on his face.
"Good morning," he greeted too cheerfully for Ron's taste since he wasn't a morning person at all. "Ooo what have we got here? Toast, butter and, is that marmalade? I love marmalade. Do you know I can just eat it as it is? It is that good."
As the Doctor jabbered, Hermione fixed him a piece of toast. They all watched carefully as he came over, more than a little surprised to see that he wasn't limping nearly as heavily as he had been the night before.
"Thank you Hermione," the Doctor said, grabbing the piece of toast she held out for him then sitting down.
Hermione watched him eat for a few minutes before she hesitantly asked, "H-how's your leg?"
"It's better thank you. Still stings a bit but I suppose that's to be expected when there's severe burns covering most of your calf isn't it? That burn cream I have really is wonderful isn't it Harry? How's your arm? I imagine you could take off the bandage now."
Happy to have the uncomfortable tape and gauze off his arm, Harry willingly did as he was told. His green eyes widened in shock when he looked down where just yesterday an angry burn had been and found nothing but healed pale skin.
"The burn's gone," he said as he turned his arm over to look at it. He looked up at the Doctor who, not surprisingly, had a broad grin on his face, warming his eyes to pure honey.
"Does this mean that your leg's healed as well?" Hermione asked with awe in her voice, beating Harry to it.
"Not quite no but it will be by tomorrow." The Doctor brushed the crumbs off his blue and brown pinstriped suit then stood up, faltering slightly when he put too much weight on his right leg. "I actually need to go change out the bandage and apply more cream but I'll be right back then, Hermione I'd like to chat with you if that's alright."
"Of course," Hermione granted then added, "You know, I could heal you instead if you like."
The Doctor turned and gave her a wide, appreciative smile, "Thank you but no you can't. The elements involved with your magic wouldn't mix well with my biology; it would actually take me longer to heal."
Hermione's eyebrows drew together in confusion but the Doctor skittered out of the room and into the blue box before she had a chance to ask him her next question.
Harry got off the floor and followed, curiosity driving him. He entered the ship in time to see a blur of brown and blue swing down the hall to the left of the console and immediately headed down the same way.
"Do you need help?" he called out as he caught up with the limping man.
The Doctor spun turned around, staring at Harry like he was trying to decide then answered, "Yes actually, thank you. It is rather hard to bandage one's own leg isn't it? I had a heck of time the first time, I felt like a bloody contortionist."
Harry thought he heard curiosity under the tone of light hearted babble but for some reason the man didn't ask anything. He silently followed the Doctor through the winding halls of the TARDIS. When they finally stopped it was at a dead end about five minutes later in front of a metal door with rust growing across it like an ivy growing across a building.
"Use this room often?" Harry didn't know why but for some odd reason his question made the Doctor laugh.
"No actually, that's why it's at the very back of the TARDIS." The Doctor scrunched his face in a frown. "Come to think of it, that's probably not the best place for an infirmary is it?"
The door opened and probably the cleanest room in the entire ship came into view. It wasn't a very big room, big enough to fit one bed and something between a muggle operating room and a muggle MRI machine. The sterile smell of disinfectant assaulted Harry's nostrils and he wrinkled his nose in distaste.
The Doctor limped into the room, grabbed another set of bandaging and the same jar of burn cream then made his way over to the solitary bed and sat down.
Harry saw relief flood through the angular features and wondered if the mysterious man was relieved to be able to get off his injured leg.
Harry slowly stumbled his way into the room towards the bed where the Doctor was patiently waiting for him, his right pant leg rolled up and giving him access to the injured limb. Now that the time's come, he felt a little awkward about what he was about to do.
If there's one thing Harry's never been, it was touchy feely. He wasn't in any way against touching another human being but it was usually someone he knew like Ron or Hermione not a complete stranger who was injured none the less.
"You can go back to your mates if you like. I'm sure I can manage on my own."
Harry's head snapped straight ahead, looking at the Doctor who offered a friendly, encouraging smile. Embarrassment flourished in Harry's chest and stomach as he looked into the pitying honey eyes. The Doctor had seen his awkwardness and was trying to give him a way out of his offer.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked as he walked straight to the Doctor's bed. He pulled up the extra chair close to the bed and began unwrapping the injured leg.
Angry, red and black skin burnt into the calf in a jagged, wide edge appeared. If this is what the burn looked like after the miracle cream, Harry didn't want to know what it looked like before.
Harry hesitated slightly before grabbing the cream and twisting the lid off. Guessing it was better to liberally apply the cream than to skimp he grabbed a copious amount and gently slathered it over the burn. He did his best not to put too much pressure on the damaged skin but even still he could tell the Doctor was clenching his teeth in order to remain silent.
Once he was finished with the cream Harry found a towel and quickly cleaned off his hands before he placed a thick, gauze bandage over the burn then wrapped the cloth-like bandage around, making sure to secure it firmly but not so firm that the blood flow to the Doctor's leg was reduced.
After having finished with the Doctor's leg, Harry gently swiveled the man's body and placed it on top of the bed, elevating it next to him. He tossed the used bandaging into the trash bin, put the used towel into what he assumed was the laundry then put the cream into the cupboard he saw the Doctor withdraw it from.
When he'd finished he turned around to see the Doctor unrolling his pant leg. "How's it feel?" he asked trying to sound casual.
"Better, thanks for your help," the Doctor answered as he gingerly eased himself off the bed. He winced when the foot of his injured leg touched the ground but soon began heading for the door with Harry following close behind.
The trip out of the TARDIS seemed to be a shorter trip than it was to get in and soon the two men found themselves once again in Ron and Hermione's room, its occupants still sitting on the now clean floor.
The Doctor sat stiffly down on the floor across from Ron and Harry sat down next to his host across from Hermione.
"Now then," the Doctor began, breaking the uncomfortable silence and turning his head to face Hermione. "Are there any spells that hide a technological signal?"
Hermione's manicured eyebrows drew together in concentration. "I suppose the standard disguising spell could work for hiding technology but I'm not sure any wizard has tried it since they don't tend to use electricity."
"Wonderful, do you happen to know the frequency that spell operates on?" The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and held it to his ear as he tried to adjust it to the right frequency.
"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked confused.
"Each spell has its own frequency, that's what helps to make them work," the Doctor explained, his attention only half on the three wizards in front of him. "Your wand helps channel the demand from your brain to the frequency, activating the spell."
Silence followed the man's explanation. No one knew exactly what to think of the way he'd explained the way spells work, they hadn't really thought about it. Their first year in charms was a bit busy and they didn't really pay attention during the class until they were allowed to perform magic.
The radio in the room buzzed to life and the announcer came on, "In other news, there has been another muggle attack. This is the fourth one since Monday. Ministry officials visited Cardiff but were not able to make any further progress."
"Aha, gotcha!" the Doctor cried out excitedly. He lowered the sonic screwdriver and tucked it safely in his breast pocket. "Right well, did they just say Cardiff?" When the young wizards nodded in response, the Doctor beamed. "Brilliant! I've been needing to visit dear old Jack."
"How the ruddy hell did you do that?" Ron asked in amazed suspicion.
"Do what? Oh, the radio. My sonic must have crossed its frequency while I was searching. Sorry about that." The Doctor stood up, wincing minutely when he placed weight on his right leg. "Well, thank you for the help. I must be off, got an old friend to visit and a wizard to catch."
"Shouldn't you let the Ministry of Magic catch the wizard?" Hermione asked.
"I would but I'm not sure the Ministry could catch this one since they don't have the proper tools to find him nor do they know that it's a wizard they're looking for. Who's the Minister of Magic these days?"
The three wizards looked at each other uncomfortably for a few minutes before Harry finally answered, "There isn't one. The Ministry is still trying to reorganize after Voldemort tore it apart and they haven't elected a new minister yet."
"Interesting," the Doctor commented with a far-off look in his eyes. He once again started walking towards the TARDIS but as suddenly as he began, he stopped, pivoted around and eyes the group with studying eye. "Would you lot care to join me?"
The three friends gave each other wondering, skeptical looks, each silently asking the other their opinion. Hermione gave Harry a small smirk and Ron gave a shrug. Harry allowed himself a glance around the room, letting his mind decide what it wanted to do, before returning his glance onto the Doctor. He let the mischievous sense of adventure he felt to shine brightly through his green eyes as he answered, "I've never been to Cardiff. Is it nice this time of year?"