Harry and the Doctor

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or the Doctor. In fact, if I ever claim to own the Doctor again, he's promised to make sure my parents never meet (which inadvertently leads to the Great Depression of 1965, and the end of the world in a nuclear apocalypse in 1971, thus causing my favorite TV shows to never be produced....)

It was a dingy street in London. There was a store with a poorly dressed manikin in the window and a door that looked like it hadn't been opened in a long time. The street was empty of people and even the curbs were curiously empty of cars. Old newspapers moved in the slight breeze. The place seemed abandoned.

The old, blue police box gave the gray street a little color. The fact that it hadn't been there a minute ago went unnoticed by the non-existent pedestrians and car traffic.

The door to the police box opened, and a young man and woman came out.

"This is dump," the woman said. "Why exactly are we here?"

"Because the trichrometic bedsister assembly broke."

"Yes, but why_here_? I thought we were going to be closer to my mum's place."

"That wouldn't be a good idea. At the moment, you're just eleven, and aren't in that apartment."

"Oh. I suppose we should stay away, then. Can you get parts for a psychotic resister here?"

"In truth? No. . . ."

"What!"

"However," he said, quickly, "I can get something to jury-rig it up. Then we'll be able to get to Altair and get a good replacement."

"Fine, whatever."

"Did you see that?" the man asked. He was in a suit, but inexplicably wearing trainers.

"What?" The young woman was in jeans and a t-shirt with a Union Jack design on it.

"That old man, walked right through the window."

"That's impossible. The window would have broken. Or he would have. Have you ever seen a beard that long?"

"Yes. The Eldest on . . . . Never mind, he's walking away. I think I'd like to talk to him. Be right back." The young man walked quickly towards the old one who was walking slowly towards the street, lost in thought.

Albus Dumbledore trudged away from the entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies deep in thought. Things had spiraled out of control last year, and he had to take some of the blame. In the end, he was reacting; dancing to other's tunes. No more.

His interview of Umbridge had not gone well, but he did get a little information out of her. He'd have to use some of his diminishing political capital to protect Harry and the others from her accusations. Dratted woman! He'd also have to quickly get a defense teacher so as to make sure Fudge didn't foist another on him.

"Look out!" a voice yelled, and a hand grabbed his arm, jerking him back from the road. Suddenly, he was against the building, and a large, purple, three decker bus went speeding past, missing him by inches.

Again, with hardly any actual movement, he was at the curb again. He looked and saw what happened.

The stranger had grabbed him by the arm to pull him from the on coming Knight Bus. To get better leverage, he had grabbed the nearby lamp post. That had probably saved both their lives, as the lamp post had been magically moved out of the way of the bus, as all things should be. Dumbledore had no doubt that the bus' magic had been changed to not do the same to living things. He had just been the victim of an assassination attempt.

The bus, halfway down the street, disappeared with a bang.

"Thank you, young man. I believe I owe you a life debt."

"What?" The man seemed shook up. He looked at the building where the lamp post had put him, and down the road. "What?" he asked again. Dumbledore had the impression that he was speaking rhetorically.

"It seems I may have annoyed the wrong people. It's so nice to know that you're making enough of a change in the world to have your enemies try to kill you."

"Does that sort of thing happen often?"

"No. Most don't have the courage to try to attack me, as they didn't this time. I bet whoever set this up was in Ravenclaw."

"Sorry, don't know it."

"You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you? I'd remember you if you did, I'm sure."

"No, never went to Hogwarts."

"Were you a Baubaxtons student?"

"No, I didn't go to school in England."

"Ah, the New World! Salem? Great Lakes? Not IOU?"

"I taught at Illuminati University several times."

"Ah! Which school?"

"C.T.H.U.L.H.U. College of Temporal Happenstance, Ultimate Lies and Historical Undertakings. I've taught off and on a number of times in the past and future."

"Oh, one of their Technomanacy disciplines. I may be old fashioned, but give me simple magic any day."

"Who's your friend?" the young woman walked up to them and asked.

"I'm not sure, although I do think introductions all around would be useful. Hello, I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose."

"And I'm Albus Dumbledore, I'm sure you've heard of me."

"No."

"No."

"Headmaster of Hogwarts? Chief Mugwump of the International? Head Warlock of the Wizengamot?"

"No, sorry."

"No, sorry."

"You're not a witch, are you? You're not a wizard?"

Rose answered first, "No. Just a normal human, which the Doctor has shown me is a pretty good thing to be."

"No, not a wizard."

"Then how did you see the Knight Bus?"

"It was right in front of us. You didn't see it."

"I allowed myself to be distracted ."

"What bus? Wait a minute, I vaguely remember something about a bus. It should have hit you!"

"She's obviously a Muggle. But what are you? A squib?"

"I already told you, I'm the Doctor."

"And you taught at IOU?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore was never sure why he trusted this man who he just met. There was something about him, something almost _magical?_ that led him to the path he took with his next question. "Are you any good at Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Magical defense? Sorry. Do know some Venusian Judo, but that's hardly the same thing."

"But you live and work in the Muggle world? Would you be available to perhaps teach our Muggle studies class?"

"I'm not sure I'll be in the area long enough. . . ."

"But you see, with Voldemort back, it's absolutely essential that we get a good defense instructor. If you teach the Muggle studies, I can move Professor Carter to Defense. And if I don't, the Ministry will saddle me with another stooge whose job it is to monitor the students and not actually teach. We have to get the students trained, it may be the only thing that saves them."

"Which Ministry?"

"The Ministry of Magic. Where are you from?"

"Galifrey, actually, but Voldemort? I think I encountered him before."

"Despite what the ministry has said, he really is back and he'll take over the world if we cannot stop him."

"Isn't that being a bit dramatic?"

"I wish I were. You might not be old enough to remember. . . "

"I'm a bit older than I look," the Doctor muttered.

". . . but we were losing the last war against him. There is a very slim chance of success this time, which is more than we had the first time. But with the Ministry interference, we'll lose for sure. Please say you'll help us."

The Doctor turned to Rose, and asked, "Ever want to be a teacher? Mold young minds? Inspire the next generation? Get apples on the desk and tacks on the seat?"

"I didn't think we were going to be here that long?"

"Nonsense! There's always time to lend a helping hand."

Dumbledore suddenly looked embarrassed. "There is one question. . . ."

"Yes?"

"Illuminati University. What does the "O" in IOU stand for?"

"I'm sorry, you're not cleared to know that."

"Drat. That's what the Arch-Dean told me, too."

"If it's any consolation, I wasn't told, either."

Rose and the Doctor were sitting in the Tardis' lounge. The Doctor was reading over the text books for the classes he was going to take. Rose was looking over volumes on the Wizarding World that they had bought at Flourish and Botts.

She closed a book and exclaimed, "I don't believe this! I mean, magic! But not only that, a whole hidden world."

"Yes, the Clarkes are rather good at that."

"Clarkes?"

"Refers back to something known as Clarke's Law. It says, 'Any sufficently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.' The Clarkes are a subspecies of human who have the ability to modify the universe at the quantum level with a special organ in their head. As it is so intimately tied to their thinking, it has some interesting side effects. For example, if they believe they cannot do something, then they cannot.

"It also screws with their critical thinking capability. They are, as a group, some of the most illogical of your whole illogical race. They are always on the brink of extinction due to their own foolishness. It seems as if their extra ability is actually a deterrent to survival."

Don't know what to do with this. I originally wrote this as a Pretender/HP cross over (replace Rose and the Doctor with Jarod. Also Jarod never taught at IOU, but he did study at Miskatonic :-) Jarod's unique ability gives him the ability to see the magical world, a trait most Muggles don't. I was going to do the Pretender story Harry's 5th year, with Jarod doing the appropriate punishment to Umbridge at the end. But I couldn't think of a plot to fill in the rest.

With the Doctor? I'd just ignore HBP and continue from the end of OotP. But not soon (or ever).

Tom A.