"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

Chapter 4: Beyond Dreams

If Harry had known how much he would enjoy using his powers openly around the TARDIS, he would have just levitated his cereal over to the table years ago and been done with it. It had always been the elephant in the room, so to speak, and now that his secret was out, Harry was able to throw himself into his 'studies' wholeheartedly.

He also found it immensely funny that he could amaze the Doctor of all people. The Time Lord was in the business of astounding and so didn't quite know how to deal with being astounded. For the first few months after Harry's confession, the Doctor had studied Harry's methods and cross-referenced his skills with every species in the known universe. After that, Amy and Rory thought they'd convinced him to give up and accept that Harry was just unique, but Harry doubted that the words 'give' and 'up' were in the Time Lord's vocabulary.

Harry well remembered the reaction he'd gotten from the Dursleys during the few times he'd lost control as a kid. That and the Angel incident meant that it had taken him a long time to not be afraid of his own abilities.

He'd been ten and lost in the TARDIS when he first learned that he could focus his power on any level. Somewhere between the Gallifreyan section of the library and the second swimming pool, the lights had gone off and it being the TARDIS, nothing was ever in the same spot as he remembered. He'd walked for what felt like miles by feeling the wall in the dark before he'd given up and slumped on the floor in defeat. Then the lights started.

They began - one in each palm - as tiny flames and floated up delicately into the air where they rested like lanterns. More golden than any fire he'd ever seen, they reminded Harry of the regeneration energy the Doctor had shown him –the glow had only lasted a second in the Time Lord's hands but Harry didn't think he'd ever seen anything so magical.

He hadn't been afraid, that day. His power felt warm and comfortable – friendly even – and he'd drawn more and more of the lights into the air until he had been able to find his way back to a recognisable corridor. He hadn't for the life of him been able to get them back down again though, so they had to have either faded with time or been rooted into another section of the TARDIS, probably for her own amusement.

That all changed when the dreams began.

.

.

.

It was hot, molten fire and he was at the centre of it all…. So much pain… But he would survive it, yes… It consumed him and then spread out as if to outline phantom limbs and the rush of it was exquisite…

When the stone cooled in his hand Harry was standing. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in his new form. The feel of the yew in his right hand, delicate yet capable of so much power… He had waited long for this.

'My Lord...'

Harry turned coldly to look at the pathetic remains of the man, body crumpled and white bone protruding from the neck. Harry watched the blood pool around his head with fascination, like rubies gurgling up from deep within the man's throat…

'Please, my Lord…Help m-me….'

Harry felt disgust rise up in him at the plea. He had suffered too long to tolerate weakness any longer. Now was the time for power…Nothing to stop him now…

'Let it not be said that I am unmerciful'…

'Th-thank you..my Lord..Thank' –

'Avada Kedavra!'

Harry woke up gasping, a green light burned onto his eyelids and a cold, high voice ringing in his ears. He was drenched in sweat and shaking, but that was nothing to the agony in his forehead.

'Harry! Harry, it was a nightmare, just a dream…'

A soft hand touched his shoulder but Harry flinched away. The burning in his forehead hadn't relented and he moaned, leaning into both hands.

'There's something wrong with him' –

'Harry, is it your head?' –

Harry pulled himself up into a seated position on the bed, closing his eyes tightly, as if to block out the image of the blood. But he couldn't block out that feeling, of wanting to kill and hurt and he couldn't look at either of them until he had…

'Just rest, we're not going anywhere'.

That was Amy's voice and her hand rubbing circles onto his back. Harry wanted to tell her not to touch him and he felt a sob rise up in his chest that had very little to do with the slowly ebbing pain.

'It was just a dream' he managed to choke out tonelessly when some time had passed, wanting desperately to believe it.

'A nightmare, more like'. Rory approached him from the end of the bed. 'We heard you screaming from our room'.

Harry didn't answer him. When he looked up again, he saw the Doctor standing in the doorway with something unreadable in his eyes. When their eyes met, he gave Harry a sad smile before leaving the room.

The next morning after a few hours of fitful sleep, Harry found the Doctor hanging from his swing under the glass floor of the console.

'Doctor?' he asked.

'Hello, Harry'. He smiled back at the eleven-year-old fondly. 'Grab a swing'.

Rocking backwards and forwards gently while the Doctor fiddled with a spanner, Harry found himself floundering for the right words.

'You know, when you're over a thousand years old' started the Doctor, breaking the silence suddenly, 'it's easy to forget how important a few years can be to a human. You're still so young. You all are, really'.

Harry didn't know what to say. It was times like these, when the Doctor's wild enthusiasm wasn't distracting you from really looking into his eyes, that he showed his true age.

'Last night…It was more than just a dream' said Harry. 'My scar was burning'.

'I know' said the Doctor sympathetically. 'The TARDIS energy stabilisers went mad'.

'What does it mean?' asked Harry helplessly. 'What's wrong with me? In the dream, it's like… like I wasn't even myself' –

'There is absolutely nothing wrong with you' said the Doctor, looking back at him with a sincerity which Harry found it almost impossible not to believe. 'Whatever happens, you are safe here. I can promise you that'.

Harry bit his lip, unconvinced.

'I looked up my parents, when I first came here' he admitted, feeling guilty bringing them up after so much time had passed. 'As soon as I knew how to work the console records. I think the TARDIS helped'.

'James and Lily' nodded the Doctor, savouring the names as if they belonged to long lost friends he had forgotten. 'Your mother seems to have dropped off the face of the earth after primary school, and your dad…'

'It's like he never even existed' finished Harry, a tightening in his throat.

'You'd be surprised how often that happens. I wouldn't worry about it'.

'But how do we know I'm not going to grow a second head or something?' said Harry with a grimace.

The Doctor laughed at that, returning to his work. 'Like a time head?' he asked. 'It wouldn't be that bad. I've never had a two-headed companion before'.

'Lucky you' snorted Harry.

'One thing about having two heads: you'd always have someone to talk to. There are worse things'.

The Doctor grasped Harry's shoulder comfortingly and then went back to work, letting Harry sit with him to unwind amongst the familiar din of the TARDIS in flight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of the Time Lord tonight. He also knew, however, that as long as these unanswered questions continued to haunt Harry in his dreams, the Doctor would be doing everything he could to find out the truth. And for another four years, that was enough.