Wow, this chapter is my longest yet. Hell, it's even longer than the whole story!
I have to apologize beforehand for the amount of text taken from the books. :D Sorry. Thank you so much for reading so far and double thanks to those who reviewed :D ENJOY!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Doctor Who
Oh yeah, and Dumbledore likers - sorry beforehand.
And with a loud crack, they disappeared from Privet Drive.
...
The Doctor grinned as they appeared in a small village, quickly gulping great lungfuls of cold night air. Ah! Finally something similar to his own world! That must have been something similar to vortex travel only more nauseating. It had felt as if he was being forced through a very tight rubber tube.
Looking around himself, the Doctor realized they had appeared in a small square in a deserted village, in the centre of which stood an old war memorial and a few benches. Finally his gaze fell on Dumbledore who was looking at him curiously.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him. The Doctor grinned at him.
"Never better! Finally something related to vortex's!" He exclaimed to himself. Seconds later he mentally slapped himself. Right, and he was trying to hide his new status as the Doctor.
"Are you sure, my dear boy?" Dumbledore said, seemingly ignoring the vortex comment, "The sensation does take some time to get accustomed to."
"So tell me, Harry, your scar... has it been hurting at all?"
"Er... no." The Doctor muttered. Oh shit. He'd forgotten about their connection. His eyes widened a few seconds later. Double shit! The Horcruxes! One inside him! Bugger, buggerty, shit!
"Harry?" The Doctor was jerked out of his thoughts when the old wizard put a hand on his shoulder, making both of them stop walking, and he raised his wide eyes to look at Dumbledore who was staring at him with concern and as the Doctor stared into the Headmaster's eyes he finally understood.
That was it!
Of course! How could he have not seen it before? Harry Potters death via the killing curse (courtesy of Tom Riddle) had been a fixed point in time, but then Lily Potter had created a blood/love sacrifice, ensuring his survival. This had created a hole in the wall which stood between the two neighbouring universes, namely Harry Potter's and the Doctor's. Then, while the Doctor had been travelling through time and space he must have come close to the hole in the wall which separated the two universes and got his Time-Lord essence, the fob watch and the TARDIS, sucked into Harry Potter's universe. Every person, creature and even plant in every universe had its counterpart in other universe. Harry Potter was his counterpart here, so the Doctor's Time-Lord essence had been attached to the fob watch which then went to little Harry. Then it had opened when it could no longer be contained and attached itself to Harry Potter, his counterpart. Then, the hole in the wall had sealed itself.
But what had happened to his body in the other world? It was now probably human as it had been robbed of its Time-Lord-ness Ah, yes, it was probably transported to Clara's house, via the teleportation device which he had hung around his neck and would theoretically transport him there whenever he was in immediate danger. Well, it was a relief to know that Clara was probably taking care of him now.
So all he had to do, to return to his universe, with the TARDIS was create another hole in the wall and slip through it. But what could be big enough change to cause that? After all, this universe seemed to be mostly in flux and the fixed events seemed to be minor things. Well, one of the big fixed events was that Harry Potter destroyed all the horcruxes. The other was the death of Voldemort. He couldn't change either of those. That would throw this universe into despair and he couldn't allow that. He was the Doctor.
"Harry?" Once more, he was jerked out of his thoughts by a blackened, shrivelled hand waving in front of his face, and another, on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He blinked several times, and flinched when he saw the tormented hand.
"Sir, what happened to your hand-" The Doctor asked, staring at it, faintly remembering that Tom Riddle had put a curse on the Gaunt ring which Dumbledore had then tried to slip on. Dumbledore chose to ignore him and instead shook him one more time.
"Harry, are you alright? Is it Voldemort? Are you ill?" He said urgently. The Doctor shook his head, grinning, happy that he had finally figured it out.
"No, no, I'm fine sir. Professor, what happened to your hand?" He tried again. This time, Dumbledore looked away, concern still clear in his eyes.
"There is a time and place for everything, Harry. This is neither the time, nor the place for such discussions." The older man said and started walking again. The Doctor's easily kept up with him, now that his legs were much longer.
"Now, Harry, I give you full permission to use any counter-jinx or -curse that might occur to you," The man said as he stopped in front of a house, gazing at it intently. The Doctor raised an eyebrow as he saw that the door-hinges had been manually taken off, leaving the door hanging at an odd angle. Whoever did that to the door, wanted it to appear as if he/she had been robbed or kidnapped.
"Where are we?" The Doctor asked as he pulled his wand out, feeling the tingling warmth spread throughout his body, similar to the reaction he had from his sonic-screwdriver but less intense.
"This, Harry, is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton." Dumbledore said, raising his wand to point it at the door as well. He started to advance slowly, waving his wand in intricate motions, probably tearing down wards of some sort.
"And why exactly are we here?" The Doctor asked, knowing perfectly well that Dumbledore wanted him to say that. Dumbledore paused and frowned as he stared up at the house, then he resumed wand-waving, probably having encountered an obscure ward.
"Ah yes, of course, I haven't told you," Said Dumbledore. No shit, Sherlock, thought the Doctor. "Well, I have lost the count of the number of times I have said this in recent years, but we are, once again, one member of staff short. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts."
"And you wish to use my influence and power to persuade him to do so?" The Doctor said, inwardly smirking - "My my, professor, how very Slytherin of you."
The Doctor saw Dumbledore glance at him from the corner of his eye, frowning a little. Inwardly, the Doctor did a whoop of triumph - he'd managed to ruffle the Headmaster. There was a small snap as the last ward crumbled into ruins, and Dumbledore (with the Doctor following close behind) opened the gate and walked swiftly and silently up the garden path.
When they had managed to throw the door to the side, both men entered the house, casting lumos charms.
The Doctor gasped silently at the intense feeling that run up and down his body as he tested out his first spell as the Doctor. Dumbledore must have interpreted his gasp as one of horror because he put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder as if trying to comfort him.
After all, the room was a scene of devastation. A grandfather clock, similar to the one the Weasley's had, lay splintered at their feet, it's face cracked and its pendulum lying a little further away like a dropped sword. A piano was on its side, its keys strewn across the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier glittered nearby. Cushions lay deflated, feathers oozing from slashes in their sides; fragments of glass and china lay like powder over everything. There wasn't a sign of a body.
There was something about the room though, that made the Doctor think that it looked more like a stage at a play. It seemed like everything had its own place, its own use for the actor to play in. Raising his wand, to cast more light on the room, the Doctor noticed there was a very vividly pink overstuffed but surprisingly undamaged armchair lying on its side in the corner. Frowning, he approached the armchair, wishing dearly for his sonic-screwdriver, but first he'd have to find the TARDIS.
"Not pretty is it?" Dumbledore said, as he walked up to the Doctor, gazing at the armchair thoughtfully. He suddenly smiled at the Doctor, "Well done, Harry!"
A this moment, the Doctor was sure that Dumbledore would have clapped his hands together if not for the fact that his wand was clutched in his hand. Then suddenly, Dumbledore jabbed his sharply wand into the arm-chair.
And then, suddenly, to fast for human eyes to follow (but not for the Doctors), where a second ago, there had been an overstuffed armchair, there now crouched an enormously fat, bald, old man who was massaging his lower belly and squinting up at Dumbledore with an aggrieved and watery eye.
"There was no reason to stick the wand in that hard," He said gruffly, clambering to his feet. "It hurt." He said rubbing his stomach.
The wand light sparkled on his shiny forehead, his prominent eyes, his enormous silver walrus-like moustache, and the highly polished buttons on the maroon velvet jacket he was wearing over a pair of lilac silk pyjamas. The top of his head barely reached the Doctor's chin, who was suddenly happy he'd had the enormous growth spurt.
"What gave it away?" He asked finally. Before Dumbledore could say anything, the Doctor offered his hand which the man quickly shook, frowning as if trying to figure out who he was.
"Harry Potter, pleasure to meet you." The Doctor said, watching happily as the man's eyes widened. "The door hinges were manually screwed off, and your arm-chair was the only thing in the room which wasn't damaged."
The Doctor could almost feel Dumbledore's eyes twinkling behind him as he stepped back to stand at old man's side. "This is Horace Slughorn, my former colleague." Dumbledore said when Slughorn failed to introduce himself.
"Now, would you like some assistance clearing up?" Dumbledore asked, peering Slughorn who had started gazing about with a worried glance.
"Please," said the other.
They stood back to back, the tall thin wizard and the short round one, and waved their wands in one identical sweeping motion. A little grin crept onto the Doctor's face as he saw this, they looked like two comic characters.
Instantly, the furniture flew back to its original place, ornaments re-formed in mid-air; feathers zoomed back into their cushions; torn books repaired themselves ans they landed upon their shelves; oil lanterns soared onto side tables and reignited; a vast collection of silver picture frames flew glittering across the room and alighted, whole and untarnished, upon a desk; rips, cracks and holes healed themselves everywhere. It reminded the Doctor of when one was typing up a text and one accidentally clicked on the undo button.
"So that's how you thought to persuade me, is it?" Shouted Slughorn as the chandelier screwed itself back into the ceiling. There was also a final plunk from the piano, and silence as Slughorn gestured at the Doctor. "Well, the answer is still no." The man continued as he gazed at the Doctor with a hungry expression. Not sexually. That would scare the Doctor.
"I suppose we can have a drink, at least?" asked Dumbledore, eyes twinkling, manipulative as ever, "For old times' sake?"
Slughorn hesitated, "All right then, one drink," He said ungraciously, moving over to the liquor cabinet. He quickly got two julep glasses from the cabinet and poured some whiskey into both of them. Slughorn then gave Dumbledore one of the glasses. He then grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and passed it to the Doctor with a polite smile.
They then proceeded to sink into the two sofas facing each other. The Doctor manoeuvred himself so that he sat next to Dumbledore, but in Slughorn's main line of sight. He caught Dumbledore's gaze at the corner of his eye. His eyes were twinkling again.
"Well, how have you been keeping, Horace?" Dumbledore asked, finally after an awkward and slightly grumpy silence. The shorter man (so short in fact that his feet didn't even reach the floor) glared at Dumledore.
"Not so well," Said Slughorn, "Weak chest, wheezy. Rheumatism too. Can't move like I used to. Well, that's to be expected. Old age. Fatigue."
"And yet you must have moved fairly quickly to prepare such a welcome for us at such short notice," Said Dumbledore, clearly not believing him completely, "You can't have had more than three minutes' warning?"
"Two. I didn't hear my intruder charm go off, I was taking a bath. Still," He said half-irritably, half-proudly, "The fact remains that I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who's earned the right to a quiet life and a few comforts."
Ha! Old age! That man couldn't be older than eighty. Then again, these were humans, not Time-Lords. But still, in comparison... Well, the Doctor was pretty sure he was over nine-hundred years in human time. In the Time-Lord calendar he was still a boy... or teenager.
"You are not yet as old as I am, Horace," said Dumbledore. How old was Dumbledore? Probably somewhere between 100 and 120.
"Well, maybe you ought to think about retirement yourself," Said Slughorn bluntly. His eyes lowered down to Dumbledore's shrivelled hand. "Reactions not what they used to be, I see."
Dumbledore leaned back into the sofa, covering his hand unconsciously, as if to hide his failure. "I am undoubtedly slower than I was. But on the other hand..." He shrugged and spread his hands wide, as though to say that age had its compensations.
"So all these precautions against intruders... are they for the Death-Eaters' benefit, or mine?" Asked Dumbledore.
"What would the Death-Eaters want with an old buffer like me?" Demanded Slughorn. The Doctor grinned at him, catching his eyes.
"I imagine, that they would use your potion talents to coercion, torture and murder." The Doctor said gazing at him challengingly. Slughorn frowned and turned to Dumbledore.
"Did you tell him about my being a potions master?" He asked suspiciously. Dumbledore shook his head, eyes twinkling.
"No, he didn't. It might have something to do with the fact that your fingers are littered with smudges from potions when they spilled, your sleeves got a fair share of them as well. Or it might be due to the fact that the certificate on the desk there clearly states that you are a potions master. And you have been moving a lot lately, most likely to escape your kidnapping which will happen eventually." The Doctor said grinning. Slughorn stared at him.
"You have a sharp eye, eh?" Slughorn said, gazing at him speculatively.
"Not as sharp as Sherlock Holmes's, but, yes, sharp." Slughorn looked confused at that.
"Sherlock Holmes?" He asked curiously.
"Muggle literary character."The Doctor said smiling as he remembered Arthur Conan Doyle, the real genius. Eventually, after so many years writing about Sherlock Holmes, the man had managed to attain the same skills... and habits.
"Ah, muggle." The man said emotionlessly. The Doctor raised an eyebrow and glanced at Dumbledore only to see that the man had disappeared. Probably to the bathroom.
"Oh! You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" He said quickly, "No, no! On the contrary! I knew your mother, she was my favourite student! Muggle-born wasn't she? And there was Dirk Cresswell, in the year after her, too - now the head of the Goblin Liaison Office, of course - another Muggle-born... He still gives me excellent inside information on the goings-on at Gringotts!" He stood up and walked to the desk, quickly followed by the Doctor who took a sip from his butterbeer.
Slughorn quickly pointed at a picture of a man shaking hands with a goblin, there was a signature at the bottom of the page. "See, that's Dirk..." He then gestured to the rest of the pictures. "All ex-students, all signed. You'll notice Barnabas Cuffe, editor of the Daily Prophet, he's always interested to hear about my take on the day's news. And Ambrosius Flumme, of Honeydukes - a hamper every birthday, and all because I was able to give him an introduction to Ciceron Harkiss, who gave him his first job! And at the back - you'll see her if you just crane your neck - that's Gwenog Jones, who of course captains the Holyhead Harpies... people are always astonished to hear I'm on first name terms with the Harpies, and free tickets whenever I want them!" This seemed to cheer him up somewhat.
"And all these people knew where to find you to send you stuff?" The Doctor asked, digging the knife deeper into the wound. Slughorn winced and slumped a little.
"Of course not." He said looking away, "I have been out of touch with everybody for about a year." It seemed the words shocked the man himself.
The Doctor grinned, step 1. complete.
"Well, if you were to come back to Hogwarts... you could have all of those things, additional comfort... and maximum security. Not only from Dumbledore, but from my defence group as well." Ah, the DA, that would reassure Slughorn. The man's head jerked upwards and he had to crane his neck a little to look straight into the Doctor's eyes.
"Defence group?" He asked quietly. Step 2. complete.
"Yes, you didn't know?" The Doctor asked, mocking him a little, "I created a group last year called... ah, defence association. DA. They are highly trained students that will protect Hogwarts at any cost." Well, that wasn't necessarily true...
"And where do you stand?" Slughorn asked eagerly.
"I am their leader." The Doctor said with finality as Slughorn suddenly straightened, obviously convinced. Step 3. Complete. Target.: Complete.
And then suddenly, very conveniently, Dumbledore entered the room, holding a stack of knitting magazines in his hands. Slughorn jumped slightly, as if he'd forgotten that he was there.
"Excuse me, I went to the bathroom." He said eyes twinkling.
"Upset stomach?" Slughorn said uneasily.
"Hardly, I do love knitting patterns. If you allow me, I shall take these with me." He said holding up the stack. Slughorn stared at him and waved his hand in agreement.
"Well, Harry, we have trespassed Horace's hospitality quite long enough; I think it's time for us to leave."
"You're leaving?" Slughorn asked, almost disappointingly as he gazed at the Doctor who was now smiling at him. In other words: sucking up.
"Yes, I know a lost cause when I see one..." Dumbledore said as he gazed pointedly at Slughorn who blinked. Once, twice and-
"Fine! You manipulative old man! Fine! I'll do it!" With that, the man scrambled off to the next room. The Doctor and Dumbledore then proceeded to leave the house, cross the garden and close the gate behind them.
"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said happily. The Doctor grinned back at him.
"My pleasure, professor."
"Did you like him?" Dumbledore asked.
"I was starting to..." Dumbledore glanced at him as they started walking.
"Horace," he paused, gathering his thoughts, "Likes his comforts. He also surrounds himself with the famous, the successful and the powerful. He enjoys sitting on the throne, in the shadows. He used to handpick favourites at Hogwarts, sometimes for their ambition or their brains, sometimes for their charm or talent, and he had an uncanny knack for choosing those who would go on to become outstanding in their various fields. Horace formed a club of sorts, of his favourites, with himself in the centre, making introductions, forging useful contacts between members and always reaping some kind of benefit in return." The wizard paused again. "I tell you all this, not to turn you against Horace, but to put you on your guard. He will undoubtedly try to collect you, Harry. You will be the jewel of his collection: the boy who lived... or as they call you these days, the Chosen One."
This caused the Doctor to remember the Horcruxes again and the one in his forehead. He could technically put some basilisk poison in there, after all, as a Time-Lord, the poison wouldn't affect him to much and would eventually come out of his body.
"This will do, Harry," Dumbledore said, holding out his arm to the Doctor. "If you will grasp my arm..."
Apparition this time was even awesome-er. And the familiar sense of euphoria the Doctor usually got when he travelled returned to him for a few seconds... but then they were back on Earth. Apparating was really nothing more than forcing yourself into the vortex and quickly, in a matter of seconds travelling through it and appearing in some other place. This was, technically a simplified form of time-travel.
The Doctor frowned as he looked around him. They were standing on a country lane and looking up at the top of the hill, he could see the crooked silhouette of the Burrow. The Doctor turned to Dumbledore, still frowning.
"Professor, I specifically requested to go to the Black Manor. Now that I think about it, I don't have to request anything, this is my life and you are simply my Headmaster. Nothing more." The Doctor said coldly, staring at Dumbledore defiantly who was just staring back, twinkle gone and looking slightly surprised.
"Harry... This is for your own good. It's dangerous for you out there."
"No, Headmaster. You have been trying to shape me into a perfect weapon. While I admit, you are a powerful wizard and a good headmaster, you are crossing lines here; lines that should not be crossed."
Dumbledore frowned, eyes suddenly cold. The Doctor could already feel the man's aura acting up. Ha! He'd managed to ruffle him again! 2:0!
"Then, Harry Potter, forgive me for what I am about to do," Dumbledore said in a dangerous voice and raised his wand, pointing it at the Doctor's head. "Obliviate." He intoned.
...
Right, I was actually intending to have a cliff-hanger here, but... Sorry, Dumbledore likers. :D
...
The Doctor inwardly scowled as Dumbledore led him to the back door of the Burrow which was surrounded by Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons. In the distance, the Doctor could hear the familiar clucking of the chickens. His mind was elsewhere though,
That old coot! Now he was pretty sure he hated JK Rowling for describing him so horribly. She hadn't even mentioned him being manipulative! And anyway, how could she have not created a Doctor in this universe?
The Doctor fumed silently as Dumbledore knocked on the door. How could that man try to obliviate him? Fortunately, Time-Lords and humans had different types of frequency ranges. For example if the Doctor were to go to a human hospital and do an electroencephalography of his brain, the machine would go haywire. So, when Dumbledore threw an obliviate (something which was designed specifically for humans) at him, it didn't do any damage whatsoever.
The door opened slightly, because of a huge security chain which the Doctor thought was absolutely useless, as wizards could simply blast it apart if they wanted to break in.
"Who's there?" Said a nervous voice that the Doctor (from Harry's memories) recognized as Molly Weasley's, "Declare yourself!"
"It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry." Dumbledore said imperiously, making the Doctor scowl inwardly once more. No one ever messed with his mind. Ever. Or tried to. The door opened at once and the Doctor forced himself from rolling his eyes. Dumbledore hadn't even given any proof who he was, yet because of the name, Molly Weasley instantly trusted him.
As the door opened, Mrs Weasley was revealed, a short, plump woman with flaming red hair and wearing an old green dressing gown.
"Harry, dear!" She said, after she had yanked the door open, "Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you told us not to expect you till morning!"
"We were lucky," Said the man, pushing the Doctor gently over the threshold, something that did not help mend his grudge against Dumbledore, "Slughorn proved much more persuadable than I had expected. Harry's doing of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"
As the Doctor looked around the familiar living room/kitchen/dining room, he noticed not much had changed. The hands on the grandfather clock standing in the living room area were all pointing at mortal danger, all except the one with Arthur Weasley's face and name on it.
Despite the lateness, Mrs. Weasley wasn't alone. A young witch with a pale, heart-shaped face and mousy-brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large steaming mug between her hands. Her hair looked dirty, like it hadn't been washed in a long time, and she had large dark rings under her eyes. Her skin on her face sank a little like that of a person who hadn't slept a lot in quite a while.
"Hello, Professor," she said, glancing up and the Doctor noticed that her eyes made her look much older and sadder, "Wotcher, Harry,"
"Hello, Tonks," The Doctor said with a goofy grin, hoping to cheer her up. She looked drawn, even ill and there was something forced in her smile when she looked at him.
"I'd better be off," she said quickly, standing up and pulling her travelling cloak around her bony shoulders. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."
Then with that she tried to hurry past Dumbledore after she had ruffled the Doctor's hair. Tried being the key word. The Doctor had grabbed her arm and spun her around to meet his eyes.
"It's not your fault, Tonks," he said lowly and released her, "Sirius was reckless and after being confined for so long he needed to have some fun... Just remember, it's not your fault." She smiled at him sadly.
"It's not yours either," She said silently and swept past Dumbledore and into the yard where she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air with a loud crack.
"Well, I shall see you at Hogwarts, Harry," Said Dumbledore. "I still have a meeting with the new minister. Take care of yourself." He then bowed his head to Mrs. Weasley, and followed Tonks vanishing at precisely the same spot. The Doctor scowled as the man disappeared. The moron.
Mrs. Weasley sighed and closed the door on the empty yard and then steered the Doctor to the table into the full glow of the lantern to examine his appearance. She gasped as she looked at him and she nodded happily.
"You're like Ron," She said, "Both of you look as though you've had stretching jinxes put on you. I reckon you are about as tall as Ron now. Ah finally blooming, are we? Half of Hogwarts is going to be lusting after you now!"
The Doctor blinked at her, him handsome? And lusting? God, this woman had delusions.
"Are you hungry, Harry?" She asked gesturing at the soup pot that stood steaming over the fire-place.
"Do you have fish fingers and custard?" He asked, suddenly realizing he hadn't eaten since earlier that day. Thinking back, the Doctor realized a lot of things had happened in the last 24 hours. Mrs. Weasley blinked at him.
"Fish fingers? Do fishes even have fingers?" She asked. The Doctor frowned at her, "Fish," He muttered. The plural of fish was... fish.
"Sorry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, as she gazed at him.
"Er... Nothing, it's a Muggle thing. Do you have Jammie dodgers?" Come on, wizards must have heard of that one. She shook her head. "Then tea, if you have any." He always had some food problems after re-generation. Well, that hadn't really been regeneration, but it had left him craving fish fingers and custard.
As he sat down at the place Mrs. Weasley offered to him, a furry ginger cat suddenly bolted from under the table, hissing and spitting at the Doctor who just frowned back. Urgh, he hated cats. With passion. And they hated him. With passion. Perhaps because they sensed the alien in him?
"So Hermione's here?" He asked as the cat bolted up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley nodded as she passed the steaming mug of to him and put Tonks's into the sink.
"Oh, yes, she arrived the day before yesterday," Said Mrs. Weasley, washing the mug. She then turned around, leaned against the kitchen counter, grabbed a towel and started drying wet plates and glasses the Doctor hadn't seen earlier. "Everyone's in bed, of course, we didn't expect you for several hours..."
"You know, Arthur recently got promoted!" She exclaimed suddenly, interrupting the comfortable silence. The Doctor smiled at her, "That's great! What does he do now?"
"Oh, yes, you know Rufus Scrimgeour the new minister, has set up several new offices in response to the current situation," She paused and the Doctor had the sudden feeling no one wanted to say the word 'war' yet. "Anyway, Arthur is working in the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. You know, in all the panic about You-Know-Who, odd things have been cropping up for sale everywhere, things that are supposed to guard you against You-Know-Who and the Death-Eaters. You get these sort of protective - potions that are really gravy with a bit of Bubotuber pus added, or instructions for defensive jinxes that actually make your ears fall off... Well, mainly people like Mundungus Fletcher."
"And he's still at work?" The Doctor asked as he gestured to the grandfather clock.
"Yes, he is. As a matter of fact, he's a tiny bit late... he said he'd be back at around midnight..." They both turned to gaze at the clock. As the Doctor was about to turn away, the hand with Arthur Weasley's name suddenly moved to travelling and then, as there was a crack outside, the hand moved to mortal danger. So technically what the clock was saying was that 'work' was safer than 'home'.
A moment later, there was a loud knock at the door and Mrs Weasley quickly jumped up to open in.
"Arthur is that you?" She asked. And there was a soft 'yes' from outside.
"Right... What is your dearest ambition?"
"To find out how aeroplanes stay up." The Doctor chuckled silently when he heard this.
"What do I call you when we are alone together?" Came from the other side of the door and the Doctor could see a silent flush creeping onto Mrs Weasley's face.
"Mollywobbles," She whispered to the lock and then quickly opened the door to reveal her husband, a thin, balding, red-haired wizard wearing horn-rimmed spectacles and a long and dusty travelling cloak. He quickly threw it off and hung it on the coat hanger.
"Something smells good - onion soup?" He asked, sniffing the air dramatically. His eyes finally rested on the Doctor who had stood up to greet the man.
They shook hands and Mr Weasley remarked on his no considerable height, just as Mrs. Weasley had done. They sat back down, Mrs. Weasley dropping a bowl of soup in front of her husband who quickly grabbed his spoon and started eating.
"Do you know how aeroplanes fly, Harry?" Mr Weasley asked happily if a little tiredly. The Doctor grinned and launched into an explanation.
"Aeroplanes fly because they are able to generate a force called Lift which normally moves the aeroplane upward. Lift is generated by the forward motion of the aeroplane through the air. This motion is produced by the Thrust of the engine. Drag is the force produced by the resistance of the air to the forward motion of the aeroplane." The Doctor paused to see if the Weasley was following. He wasn't. At all.
"Right, I'll give you a book about it." The Doctor said after a few awkward moments. Using the silence to his advantage, he fake yawned behind his hand, he wasn't really tired, he just wanted to get out of there and leave the two to talk.
"Bed," said Mrs Weasley at once. "I've got Fred and George's room all ready for you, you'll have it all to yourself."
"Why? Were are they?" As soon as he said it, the Doctor faintly remembered that the twins had created a joke shop in Diagon Alley and gone to live there as well.
"Oh, they're in Diagon Alley, sleeping in their little flat over their joke shop as they're to busy," Said Mrs. Weasley, "I must say, I didn't approve at first, but they do seem to have a bit of a flair for business! Come on, dear, your trunk's already up there."
"Good night, Mr Weasley," Said the Doctor pushing his chair back, making a loud scratching noise that echoed through the house. He winced as he looked up at the ceiling, hopefully he hadn't woken anyone up. Mr Weasley just chuckled and bade him good night.
Mrs. Weasley then led him upstairs to the bedroom from which everyone could usually hear loud explosions coming from, and quickly turned the lights on with a flick of her wand. She bade him good night and quickly made her way downstairs, to her husband. The Doctor grinned as he closed the door behind him. This room was more like him! Chaos! Finally!
A considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast of unmarked, sealed card-board boxes, amongst which stood Harry's school trunk and Hedwig's cage which was empty. Someone must have let her out.
The room looked like a temporary warehouse for the Weasley products and belongings.
Removing his jacket, the Doctor straightened his suspenders and clapped his hands together. He didn't feel like sleeping, sleeping and patience was for wimps! Besides, this room was filled to the brim with Weasley products, inventions and their belongings! Those two were simply geniuses! He had to check out their things.
...
It was almost eleven o'clock when the door to his room was thrown open, just as the Doctor was reaching for a book about pranks on one of the top shelves. As he glanced up, the Doctor was barely able to see a bushy haired girl before she engulfed him in a hug. Chuckling, he hugged Hermione back and rested his chin on her head for a second before releasing her. As she stepped back, Ron and the Doctor shared a manly hug, not quite as enthusiastic but nonetheless friendly.
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed happily as Ron and the Doctor separated themselves from each other. "You've grown!"
The Doctor grinned at her as she examined him from head to toe, and he spun around once, making his coat flutter a little behind him as he had put it back on sometime during the early morning. "Hello." He said a little calmer than Hermione.
"We didn't know you were here already!" She exclaimed sitting, down on one of the beds as Ron sat on the other leaving the Doctor leaning against the large desk.
"All right?" Ron asked, probably referring to the events that happened at the end of their fifth year, or perhaps the summer. Either way, the Doctor shrugged, nodding slightly, a smile slowly making its way onto his face when he saw Hermione staring at him suspiciously.
"When did you get here?" Hermione asked glancing at the unopened trunk and at the perfectly made beds.
"About one o'clock this morning," The Doctor replied wincing slightly when he glanced at his clothes. Now Hermione would think he was suffering of insomnia. Which he was. Kind of.
"Were the Muggles all right?" Ron asked, scrunching up his nose in disgust at the thought of the Dursleys, "Did they treat you ok?"
"Yeah. Fine." The Doctor said scowling inwardly, remembering the night when Vernon had locked him out. Not that he hadn't liked it falling asleep under the stars... Vernon just didn't seem to have any morals. Hermione looked oddly at him again.
"How are you? Ron, Hermione?" He asked finally as he adjusted his bow-tie and straightened his suspenders.
"We're fine..." Hermione said scrutinizing him as if looking for some sign of sickness.
"What's up with the bow-tie mate? And the dorky glasses?" Ron asked, a grin stretching on his face. The Doctor grinned at him.
"Bow-ties are cool," He loved saying that! Ah yes, the dorky glasses. That was odd, they were obviously Amy's glasses and he had found them in his trouser pocket in the early morning. That meant that the TARDIS was slowly returning his things to him. Hopefully, she would come back as well. He raised his hand to the glasses and quickly ripped them off his face, putting them back in his pocket. Call it nostalgia.
Hermione frowned at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Er... I had laser surgery this summer," He said as he fiddled with the glasses in his pocket. "I... er... found these glasses in an antique shop. They're actually quite fashionable." He said defensively. Ron laughed and grinned and turned to Hermione.
"He calls that," Ron waved a hand at Harry's clothing, "Fashionable!"
Hermione hushed him with one of her trademark glares and combed a hand through her bushy hair, gazing at Harry thoughtfully.
"Mrs. Weasley told us you were with Dumbledore last night, trying to convince a teacher to come out of retirement?"
Ron blinked as he looked at Hermione said that. "She said that?"
"Yes, Ronald, some of us weren't busy shoving as much food as we possibly could in our mouths."
"Er... Yes I was." The Doctor said quickly, before Ron could open his mouth to retort and they would start fighting again like an old married couple.
"So how was he?" Hermione asked, instantly interested. The Doctor shrugged.
"Well, he looks a bit like a walrus and he used to be the head of Slytherin... and he was the potions teacher."
"Potions? Do you reckon something happened to Snape?" Ron asked gleefully rubbing his hands together and looking suddenly very interested. Hermione glared at him again.
"Ron! Don't talk about teachers like that!" She turned back to the Doctor, "Well, did he seem like a good teacher?"
"Dunno," The Doctor replied, shrugging, "He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?"
"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," Said a voice from the door way, and the Doctor snapped his head up only to see Ron's younger sister stumble into the room angrily, "Hi, Harry."
"What's up with you?" Asked Ron with a frown.
"It's Fleur. Again." She said angrily. The proverb, speak of the Devil, could be applied here as seconds later, another young woman was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair that appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. The Doctor smiled at her and stood up as she swept gracefully to him.
"'Arry," She said in a throaty voice, "Eet 'as been to long!"
The Doctor grinned at her and swooped down at her, kissing her on both cheeks as was custom in France. The Doctor almost groaned when he felt her sniff against his cheek and he remembered that Veelas had a surprisingly good sense of smell and hearing as they were aliens and descended from an alien race from the neighbouring galaxy. If he was correct, and something had happened while he was human, the planet still existed and thriving. He had visited them a couple of centuries back, and somehow a small dinner party had evolved into the biggest food fight the planet had seen. After that they never seemed too keen to let him visit.
Fleur had probably been to the planet with her grandmother who was full blooded and knew that Time-Lords had two hearts. No doubt she could smell his Time-Lord-ness, or even perhaps hear his two heart beats.
The Doctor sighed inwardly, and forced a rather unconvincing smile onto his face as she stepped back, frowning slightly.
"I 'ave been longing to see you!" She exclaimed, forcing a smile to her face, yet subtly sniffing the air, "You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."
"Oh... is she here too?" The Doctor asked, leaning against the desk once more, gazing at the others in the room. Ron was showing him a thumbs up, Hermione had raised an eyebrow, and Ginny was glaring at the back of Fleur's head.
"No, no! I mean next summer, when Bill and I get married!" She seemed to have been exploding to say that. The Doctor grinned at her.
"Congratulations!" He exclaimed, ignoring the fact that Ginny and Hermione were trying to avoid each other's gazes.
Fleur grinned at him and ruffled his already messy hair, "You're sweet," she paused, "I 'ave to get back to Molly. I was 'elping her wiz ze lunch! It's almost ready!" Then with a tinkling laugh, she was gone once more.
"So, how was your summer, Harry? No glasses? The bow-tie?" Ginny said after a moment of silence. Okay, this was starting to get old.
Just as the Doctor was opening his mouth to say something, Ron interrupted him, "He says his clothes are fashionable! Ha! Fancy that!"
"He got laser surgery," Hermione added although she and Harry were both aware that the Weasleys had no idea what laser surgery was. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, making her look frighteningly similar to her mother. Walking to him, she adjusted his bow-tie.
"Well, I happen to think that bow-ties are cool." She said with a smile. The Doctor grinned at her, and glanced at Ron who was looking between them with a red, fuming face.
"I think it compliments my eyes," The Doctor said to Ron. Ginny laughed.
"Well, it hurts mine," Ron retorted, making all three laugh but making the Doctor scowl at him indignantly. They were interrupted when the door opened again, and Mrs Weasley head appeared over the side.
"Ginny," She whispered, "come downstairs and help me with the lunch." Her eyes suddenly darted between the Doctor and Ginny who were standing rather close to each other.
"I'm talking to this lot!" said Ginny outraged.
"Now!" Mrs Weasley said, and withdrew.
"She only wants me there so she doesn't have to be alone with Phlegm!" She said, spinning on her heel angrily, making her red hair swing around beautifully. The Doctor winced slightly as he saw this, Ginny reminding him of Amy. She then strutted out of the room in a very good imitation of Fleur.
"You lot had better come down quickly too," She said as she left the room. With that she was gone. The Doctor's eyes swept to Hermione who was watching him carefully, and he quickly cleared his face of all emotion, leaving a polite smile.
Hermione blushed as she realized she had been caught and started peering into the boxes, gazing at the odd things in them. Finally, she reached into one of the boxes the Doctor still hadn't managed to come to and pulled out a large black telescope.
"What's this?" She asked, holding the telescope up. The Doctor instantly strolled to her, excitedly. Finally! Something astrological! He took it from her and slowly ran a hand up and down the object.
"This," He paused, seeing the look of surprise on her face, "Is a CyclopsX3 telescope. Muggle actually, it's one of the new ones. It came out last year." Seeing Hermione's sceptical expression he rolled his eyes at her.
"I can like astrology! Can't I?" He asked her indignantly, Hermione took the telescope from him, gazing at it and looking for some kind of label.
"How did you know?" She finally asked him. The Doctor grinned at her and grabbed the telescope, pointing at the lenses.
"This is the first and only telescope with five lenses, one behind the other to enhance images of the stars. Ingenious isn't it?" He raised his eyes to look at Hermione and Ron who were looking at him with surprise. The three of them gazed at each other in silence for a moment. Then there was a loud bang and the Doctor vanished behind a puff of black smoke. Seconds later, he felt something punch him in the eye and he winced slightly in pain.
As the smoke cleared, he held the telescope to his now probably purple eyes and gazed at it thoughtfully. There now was a tiny fist on a long spring protruding from the end of the telescope.
"That... was odd." The Doctor said making Ron and Hermione laugh. Well, Ron laughed, Hermione just stared at him worriedly. The Doctor sat down on the bed which Hermione had just vacated and he gazed at the telescope/puncher.
That was interesting. Somehow, the twins had managed to create a pocket universe, to make the outside look different than the inside, much like the TARDIS. And it had worked on him. On him. They had also managed to create a perception filter which somehow worked on humans and Time-Lords alike. He'd have to examine that later, when the TARDIS gave him his screwdriver back.
"Don't worry, Mum'll fix that, she's good at healing minor injuries," Ron said, stifling a laugh. Hermione sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed again, next to the Doctor who was touching his eye, blinking away the tears every now and then.
"Harry," She rested her hand on the Doctor's palm, near his his wrist. "Are you all right?" She asked and the Doctor instantly nodded and smiled.
"I'm fine."
She sighed again. "Harry, I'm not just talking about the telescope... I mean... Sirius..." She said hesitating slightly. The Doctor smiled at her reassuringly.
"The Daily Prophet is giving you hell... Have you read it, mate?" Ron asked, gesturing at an old newspaper lying in the bin. The Doctor shrugged.
"Yeah, I read it once or twice. It just goes on and on about our night out at the Ministry and about the prophecy."
"Nobody knows what it said, though," Hermione said quickly, "It got smashed."
"Although the Prophet says -" Began Ron but Hermione said, "Shh!"
"The Prophet got it right," Said the Doctor, rubbing his eye in pain, and leaning back against the wall, "That glass ball that smashed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office, he was the one the prophecy was made to, so he could tell me. From what it said," The Doctor paused, taking in their frightened expressions, "it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort... at least, it said neither of us can live while the other survives."
There was a moment of horrified silence which the Doctor broke accidentally by getting hit by the telescope a second time. This time, his chin.
Seconds later, Ron and Hermione started laughing, defusing the tense atmosphere quickly.
"But, you know, it's all right. I have you guys... And it doesn't really specify when I have to finish him off, so..." He was interrupted by a shout from downstairs that lunch was ready. The Doctor quickly stood up and sped to the door, holding it open to Ron and Hermione who stared at him in surprise.
"Davai, idiom!" He exclaimed to them. Ron and Hermione turned to each other, then to the Doctor who groaned.
"It's Russian for 'let's go!'" Seeing their blank faces, the Doctor rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'm never going to say that again." And with that, he left the room, leaving two very confused humans.
...
Lunch was a lively affair (or was until one point), with everyone trading insults, compliments and other... random things. The only one's there were Mrs. Weasley, Fleur, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and the Doctor as Mr Weasley and Bill were still at work. Charlie was in Romania and Percy...
"Where's Percy? He can come to a family lunch, can't he? Or is he still busy writing reports about cauldrons?" The Doctor asked loudly. The table instantly went silent and the Doctor frowned a little. "Oh, sorry. It's odd how sometimes, things seem all right in your head but... Ow!" He exclaimed as he felt Hermione kick him under the table. Seeing the sad and almost depressive expression on Mrs. Weasley's face, the Doctor realized that this was probably not because of the cauldron joke.
"Er... I apologize, Mrs Weasley." He said slowly. Mrs. Weasley looked at him sadly, with shiny eyes.
"No, no, it's quite alright, Harry, dear. You didn't know." She said with a shaky voice. The silence that followed was soon interrupted though, when four owls swooped into the house through the open window and instantly flew over to Ginny, Hermione, Ron and the Doctor.
"OWLs," Hermione whispered. The Doctor grinned at her when she looked at him.
"Here goes nothing!" Ron exclaimed and grabbed the letter from the owl, getting a loud, angry squawk from it.
The Doctor took his letter calmly, absentmindedly stroking the owl's feathers, straightening the one's that were bent. He slit the envelope open and unfolded the parchment inside.
ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS (OWLRs)
Pass grades:
Outstanding (o)
Exceeds Expectations (E)
Acceptable (A)
Fail Grades:
Poor (P)
Dreadful (D)
Troll (T)
HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:
Astronomy: A
Care of Magical Creatures: E
Charms: E
Defence Against the Dark Arts: O
Divination: P
Herbology: E
History of Magic: D
Potions: E
Transfiguration: E
The Doctor smiled as he read through his OWLs. Overall, he wasn't that bad. Better than his marks at the academy had ever been, he was happy with that. He had failed all the subjects at the academy. His TARDIS-flying instructor had once mentioned that if he could, he would do anything to prevent the Doctor from ever having to fly it.
The astronomy grade was a little disappointing. You'd thing that after over a thousand years of travelling the universe he'd be able to do the exam with closed eyes. But to be fair, he had been distracted by McGonagall. And at the time, he was still human.
He swapped with Ron and grinned when he saw the seven OWLs that Ron had managed to receive.
"Hermione?" Asked Ginny gently, as Hermione was still slumped in her seat, "How did you do?"
"I - not bad," Said Hermione in a small voice. Ron rolled his eyes and grabbed her OWL test scores from her hand.
"Not bad, she says..." He paused, examining it, "Nine Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations in DADA!" He looked at Hermione who was looking at them with wide eyes. The Doctor passed Ron's OWL letter to his mother who was trying to read it over his shoulder and she smiled gratefully at him.
"You're actually disappointed, aren't you?" Ron asked looking at Hermione fondly. Hermione shook her head quickly, making everyone laugh.
...
The rest of the day was spent playing Quidditch and swimming in the small pond near the Burrow. After dinner though, when everyone had retired to their rooms, the Doctor crept silently down the stairs and outside where he lay down on the soft carpet of grass, and gazed up at the sky, twinkling with stars. The duck pond was currently silent. This was what he loved most about the universe. Yes, he liked running about saving people, saving planets, saving galaxies... Hell! Even the universe once in a while... But after some time, of running... he liked to lie down and stare at the stars, and just... relax.
"Hello Harry,"
The Doctor lowered his eyes slightly to look at Hermione who was standing in front of him, with a worried expression. She was dressed in her pyjamas and had a long morning robe wrapped around her shoulders. The Doctor smiled at her and patted the grass next to him as an invitation. She smiled and lay down next to him.
"I heard you coming down the stairs. They creak a lot." She said. The Doctor shrugged and looked up at the stars again.
"Sorry if I woke you." He finally said after several minutes of silence.
"No it's all right. I couldn't sleep."
"Insomnia?"
"No. You?" Hermione said, worriedly. The Doctor shrugged.
"Possibly. I don't know. I don't sleep for more than an hour at night." He said. Hermione made a sound of surprise.
"How can you possibly function then? Humans need sleep for their nerves and their brain to relax a little?!"
Taking a deep breath, the Doctor said - "I'm an alien, Hermione."
"Like a foreigner?" She asked weakly.
"Pretty foreign... From up there," Said the Doctor pointing at the sky.
"From Scotland?"
"Close." They chuckled. "Hermione, I'm serious now... I am an alien. How should I prove it?" He turned his head to the side, as Hermione propped herself onto one elbow and looked down at him thoughtfully.
"Fine, do something only an alien could do," She said humouring him, disbelief clear in her eyes. Smiling, the Doctor took her hand and put it on one side of his chest.
"Do you feel my heart-beat?" He asked her. She nodded, confusion mixing with the disbelief. He then guided her hand to the other side of his chest and she gasped, letting herself fall back to the ground.
"You have two hearts?" She asked, amazed. The Doctor grinned at her and nodded.
"Yes, and 27 brains." She looked at him with disbelief and he rolled his eyes. "Fine, I have one brain. BUT, with the capacity of 27!"
"Say I believe you-"
"You do believe me," He interrupted but she ignored him.
"-what species are you?"
"Gallifreyan. Time-Lord, meaning I can travel through time and space." He said quietly, turning his gaze back to the stars, remembering what a beauty Gallifrey had been.
"You can travel through time? And space?" She asked sceptically and the Doctor could almost see her raised eyebrow.
"Yes. My race.. We developed a machine called the TARDIS. Short for Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space. The official name is actually TT Capsule, but no one ever uses - used that name."
"Used?"
"Er... yes, my home is gone... There was a war... Anyway, I'm the last one left."
"I'm sorry." Hermione seemed truly sorry and when the Doctor turned his head to look at her, she was staring at him with shining eyes.
"And Harry? What's happened to him?"
"Well, the world is built in a way that most humans can't understand. There a fixed points in time - meaning they cannot be changed - and there are points in time which are in flux - meaning they can be changed as much as you want."
"How can you tell which is which?" Hermione asked.
"Because that is how I see the universe. Every waking second I can see what was or could be, or what must not. It is the burden of a Time-Lord and I'm the last one left." He paused, "Harry Potter's death via the killing curse had been a fixed point in time, but then Lily Potter had created a blood/love sacrifice, ensuring his survival. Just so you know: MAGIC IS SCIENCE. This created a hole in the wall which stood between the two neighbouring universes, namely Harry Potter's and mine."
"You're from an alternate universe?" Hermione asked, amazed.
"Yes," Said the Doctor nodding, "I was sucked in, or rather my Time-Lord-i-ness (my memories and DNA) and stored itself in a fob watch which then hung itself around baby Harry Potter's. So my body, in my universe is now human, until I manage to send myself back. Anyway, I got sucked into this universe because I happened to be near the place where the hole was created. Then the hole sealed itself. You have to understand that everything in every universe has its counterpart. I happened to be Harry Potter's." He withdrew the fob watch from his pocket and passed it to Hermione, "This is a fob watch. I can basically put my DNA and memories in there and turn into any species. And when I open it again, the memories and DNA will come back to me. That is what happened this summer. It opened and I became a Time-Lord again. I'm still Harry Potter... but he's buried inside."
Silence.
"And how can you go back? To your own universe?" She finally asked. He sighed.
"I would have to change another fixed point in time. A major one. And the only two major ones in this universe are Voldemort's death and the other... well that would take a long time to explain. Either way, I can't change either one because that would mean Voldemort would eventually win. Then, (theoretically of course) if I so this, I would have to put my Time-Lord Essence back into the Fob watch and then make someone throw it into the hole in the universe... Harry would become Harry again."
Silence. Again.
"You mentioned that magic is science, earlier." She said, frowning as she sat up. The Doctor nodded, putting his hands behind his head as some sort of pillow. "And in science, you can take elements away from mixtures and mix infinite amounts of elements together, correct?" The Doctor nodded once more and sat up, staring at Hermione, waiting for her to make her point. "So, technically, you could take magic away from a person. Theoretically, you could do the same to Voldemort. He would lose the Death Eater's support and you would defy a fixed point in time!"
This time it was the Doctor staring at her in shock and Hermione was the one smiling smugly.
Wow, long chapter...
I think I deserve some reviews now... Just joking... :D
Thank you so much for reading, and sorry again for taking so much from the books. Future chapters wont be like this.
THIS IS IMPORTANT! Please tell me if you want Steven Moffat and some of the other Doctor Who actors and writers in the story! Thanks. :D This chapter has about 10,000 words now... Isn't that amazing? I have never, ever written such a long chapter... Anyway, I'm rambling now, thanks for reading.