Chapter 67
Judith prodded what remained of Andrew Fuller's skull with the probe attached to the mind analysis machine, which he'd put together from bits and attached to the mind scanner. Both of which had a smell of burning solder and overheating electrical insulators.
"Anything?" She asked looking to Harry and Ioan who were looking at the screens and readouts.
Harry shook his head as he manipulated the energy flow again via the series of sliders and controls, careful that he didn't burn out anything else.
"I think any more power into what's left and we'll cook it," Ioan said sniffing the air.
Harry exhaled. "Fine. Owen should be here soon anyways." He flicked the switches on the machines and powered down everything and followed Ioan and Judith out of their make-shift morgue and into the barn where they'd laid out everything that they'd got from Andrew Fuller's office.
Harry was feeling much better today, having had Draco around the other day and having a good chat and an even better laugh.
Admittedly it was over quite a dark topic. But they had each shared dark things in the past. Their friendship was a unique one that Harry'd never thought would have actually come about.
From what he had seen thus far within the pensieve that friendship remained strong throughout that nightmarish vision of the future that he had thus far ventured into.
It had been good to have a break, take stock, and try not to be brought down by the memories that were still bouncing around in his head. But there were few positive moments to hold onto. Harry had wondered if it would have been better to leave the past...or the alternate future where it was, hidden, obscured by the vortex in its own averted timeline or whatever or wherever it was.
"Okay, do your presentation thing." Harry waved a 'go' signal at Judith and Ioan.
"This isn't CSI, we're not going to explain everything with fancy CGI." Judith looked at him critically.
Harry dramatically sighed. "Why not? Why can't life be full of nice graphics and CGI?" He grabbed a printed piece of paper that was sitting on the table. "The traces of the unknown powder?" He looked to Ioan.
"Probably not magical. We've got enough to do a few potions but I'll leave that up to you Harry," Ioan explained.
"I'm feeling better everyday," he answered. "UNIT and the Torchwood database?"
"Closest match is a compound," Ioan pointed to the bottom of the page. "What Torchwood calls Compound B67. In almost exclusive production and use at Torchwood Three."
Harry exhaled. "Of course. The dungeon of the Captain and his wandering pants." He set the page down and looked to the pair. "And also one of the people on the Valiant."
"You still want to tread carefully?" Judith asked.
"I want to be in the best position of knowledge when I go and see Jack and that means getting through all those memories and then locking them down in my head," Harry replied.
"Very wise," Judith said. "I'll look into the Compound B67, see if anyone else has been using it," she said taking the sheet of paper, folding it up and slipping it into her pocket.
"Had a chance to look at Susan's photos?" Harry asked Ioan who'd indicated one of his friends had some special wizarding lamp to look at wizard photos under to bring out the best image. Or let you slow down the movement...or something. It was one aspect of wizarding 'technology' that he was hoping to fix with regular technology. However the magic in the Department of Mysteries had corrupted most of their digital images leaving only their film photos, he'd left Judith to develop those it was more her era than his.
Thinking of moving photos also made him think of Colin Creevey, when he'd been snapping every 5 minutes when he first came to Hogwarts and his death, his body carried in by Oliver Wood.
Suddenly Harry grabbed for the bench as a wash of memory splashed through his senses like a bucket of jelly dropped from a great height.
"Are you...alright Harry?" He heard Judith ask as he fought a desire to keel over.
"Absolutely," he lied as the concept of a traitor thundered through his mind. "Just my internal thoughts getting ahead of themselves," he continued somewhat untruthfully. "Photos?" He prompted as the world stopped spinning and the herd of thoughts halted their stampede.
Ioan nodded. "Nothing that we didn't notice when we got in there, except for the body." He walked over to the other side of the room where he retrieved a small box and magnifying glass.
Harry peered at the offered photos. "They certainly look like the room we saw. Except with a body this time," Harry looked hard at the image. At least the photographer had used a tripod so there was no shaky hands style to it.
Just the flickering lights.
"Did we take any of the lamps when we were in there?" He wondered looking to Ioan and Judith.
"The lamps?" Judith asked. "I was up a ladder" She paused looking at Harry. "if you remember."
Ioan seemed in thought for a second. "I think I did," Judith looked oddly at him. "Harry said bag everything!" He exclaimed. "I put it in one of the borosilicate containment vessels we bought at that trade show," Ioan said to Harry.
"I knew that would come in handy." Harry mused to himself as Ioan ducked out of the room.
"And why do you think the lamp is useful?" Judith asked.
"Because it's something we didn't check." Harry said thinking again to himself.
"And you think there's something hiding in the lamps?" Judith asked as Ioan returned to the room with the extinguished lamp.
"It wouldn't surprise me," Ioan said as he set down the large vessel that held the lamp.
Carefully Harry and Ioan pulled apart the lamp revealing...
"Nothing interesting." Ioan said disappointedly.
There was a fluid inside, a wick and a connection where it had attached to the wall.
Ioan looked at Harry, Harry still had a thoughtful look on his face. "You still want to go back and get the others don't you?"
Harry shook his head. "Not for the moment. Not when we have many things to look into." He looked at the clock on the wall. "Cauldwell should be here shortly. Maybe he'll reveal something," he paused. "If we don't find anything we can always sneak into the Ministry and steal the other lights."
Judith theatrically coughed. "You do remember we're official, your Hogwarts lady friend got us there officially."
Harry nodded. "I do remember. But sneaking in lets us nosy around a lot easier."
Ioan chuckled. "Absolutely," he paused. "I'm not going," he said firmly.
"Of course not. Harry I will do the sneaking, when he's better," Judith said matter-of-factly. "It's always fun to walk around like you own the place."
"Yes," Harry silently cursed his injuries. He hated being this injured, through entirely his own fault. He looked at the clock again. "Time to go meet our expert."
-/
Walking up to the road Harry winced again and hissed as he exhaled a breath and leant against a fence post as he waited. It wasn't long before Owen Cauldwell appeared with a very soft pop and seemed mildly surprised to see Harry waiting for him.
"Harry," he said as he shifted a bag he had slung over his shoulder. "I'm surprised you're waiting."
"This isn't a busy road, and Draco said you'd be here on the dot," Harry paused. "Plus I can't sit around the house drinking awful infusions and reading even worse books waiting and musing on my own curiosity getting me into trouble."
"No. It's good you're able to move around," Owen said as Harry gestured down the driveway towards the barns.
"We've got the body in a makeshift cold store in there," Harry explained.
"Your organisation doesn't deal with bodies?" Owen asked in a curious tone.
"Not like this," Harry said carefully. "Draco explained the nature of the League of Paranormal Investigations?"
"A little. Draco implied you would have your own things to say," Owen said as Harry showed him into his workshop area that held some chairs and other things he'd been working on prior to his injury. "You can put your bags down, there's just a few things to get out of the way. Money, secrecy, that sort of thing," Harry said casually.
Owen laughed a short laugh. "I like this, Harry?" He paused again curious as to use his first name. Harry nodded. "Upfront about money and secrets."
Harry smiled. "You're coming into LPI as an independent contractor, this is what we're offering, it's based on what I talked to Draco about. If it's not enough please say, I'll cross it out and change it," Harry said showing Owen the page. It was probably comparable to what Ioan and Judith got on a day by day basis possibly a little less. Not that he ever worked it out like that. LPI was very well funded by the wizarding government, despite his initial tenuous relationship with Minister Shakelbolt he had not argued about continuing to fund LPI. Additionally his agreements with the UK government had gone from strength to strength with his continuing strong ties with the security services.
"That's...very generous Harry." Owen said after a pause.
"The next page is just about secrecy and things like that." Harry handed him a fountain pen. "Going into the future, if you find this job interesting we might look into bringing you in on other things. If that's something that might interest you?" Harry asked as he leaned against one of his chairs.
Owen looked over at him as he finished reading the page and signing it. "Perhaps. I shall see if anything comes of today's work," he said handing it to Harry.
"I can assure you there will be no face huggers bursting out," he paused. "We checked."
"What?" Owen looked at him strangely.
-/- \\-
"Interesting," Owen said for the third time as he waved his wand over the long expired body of Andrew Fuller.
Harry remained in the corner of the room, sat upon a stool watching. He didn't need to be there and he very much felt like he could be inside resting. But Owen had said he didn't mind observers, nor did he mind Harry was recording the audio in the room. Judith had commented she didn't need to watch two men in a room wand waving.
Especially with a corpse in the room. Ioan didn't want to be in the room full stop.
Harry could understand Ioan's point of view.
"Susan was right to be concerned. There are several minute scars indicating surgery. Which is interesting," Owen indicated with his finger to points along Andrew Fuller's legs and upper body.
"It is? Couldn't he have just needed surgery?" Harry asked.
Owen looked up with a wondering amused expression on his face. "Wizards avoid surgery, especially with regard to the methods that muggles use. It is very rare for surgery to be conducted like this."
Harry was silent for a moment as he thought this over. Back when he'd brought Ginny back from the 1970s, the Healers Craddock and Williams had seemed, not just disturbed by the amount of work, blood and alien tech they'd had to pull out of her, there was something else.
"That explains some things," Harry vocalised his inner musings. "But healers still know how to open someone up." Ginny the Mad Cow Wealsey still survived and the Healers knew what they were doing.
Owen nodded in agreement. "It is however preferable to use magic-based treatments than to 'open up' the body as you say."
"Disturbs things does it?" Harry wondered aloud.
"Sometimes," Owen answered vaguely. "I won't be sure of what has been done till I 'open him up'. You tried levitating the body then?" Owen asked, Harry had informed him of what Susan had told him.
Harry nodded. "Ioan, and I tried all the spells we could think of. Nothing could float or manipulate the body. I was relieved my magic body bag contained him."
Owen looked over to the side table where it was still rolled up. "Yes. A fascinating solution, not one that would have been considered by wizards. Whatever prevents his body being affected by certain spells would still need to work with others," he mused to himself.
Harry shifted and felt a twinge of pain go through his chest. He decided to ignore it, he was tempted to go back up to the house and make himself another cup of 'essence of woodland' but pushed against that. He had been trying to manage his pain rather than dousing it. He was just sitting here, he didn't need to do anything.
"Still in pain?" Owen asked with concern having noticed his twinges.
Harry nodded from side to side. "I'll work through it. I've been injured before."
"I could tell from your scars," Owen said as he pocketed his wand and removed two leather rolls of what revealed themselves to be medical tools from his bag.
"And you're not squeamish?" Owen seemed to want to check.
Harry laughed. "If you knew the things I've seen and done Owen you would..." Harry trailed off and shook his head. "Few things make me squeamish, let's just say that."
Owen watched him. "Very well." He looked over to where the red light was still on. "Your recording device?"
"Still on and running. Isolated from here, so magic shouldn't corrupt it," Harry said of it.
"Then I shall begin," Owen calmly announced.
-/
Harry had thought this was going to be more interesting than it was, it seemed, Owen was a very internalised worker. He'd mentioned he'd report to him at the end, even though Harry had said he'd be in the room with him when he was doing it.
After the first hour Harry had decided to leave Owen to it and make himself a (regular) cup of tea.
As the kettle boiled he heard Judith creeping up on him. "Would you like a cup Judith?"
"See, you're learning Harry, and yes. Make one for Ioan as well," she said. "You get bored of watching an autopsy take place?"
Harry paused as he got out the mugs and his larger teapot. "Yes."
"You've not got enough going on in your head to keep you entertained?" Judith queried curiously.
"I'm closer to sorting it all out," Harry paused. "We dodged a big bullet," he sighed. "And it was the Doctor, he gambled and we won, but we had to lose first," Harry said as the kettle began to whistle and Ioan walked in.
"Did I miss anything? I heard 'dodge a bullet'." Ioan asked as he got some biscuits out of the cupboard.
"Harry's just explaining how the Doctor's to blame for everything and we should interrogate Martha Jones about what happened for ourselves," Judith explained brightly.
Harry frowned. "I didn't mention Martha."
"I extrapolated," Judith said cheerily. "We should do the same to Captain Harkness."
Harry carried the tea tray through to his lounge where he could sit with some relief and relax. He'd been holding steadfast through the ache in his ribs. "As much as I would like to hook Martha up to one of our mind analysis machines I think talking to her might deliver a better outcome."
"You ruin all the fun Harry," Judith exclaimed dramatically.
"I'm not sure we'd learn much by analysing her brain, if what Harry's said happened. He's," Ioan paused. "Or his other self is more interesting," Ioan paused then clarified "At the centre of things."
"At the centre..." Harry repeated. "I wonder if that's why all those memories permeated through the Veil, because I was some sort of nexus point?"
"Your ego again Harry," Judith chastised looking to Ioan. "You shouldn't be inflating it."
"I rely on you to come along and prick his bubble," Ioan challenged Judith in an amused tone.
"Thinking of pricks," both Harry and Ioan looked at her. "What of your Captain?"
"He's not my captain, and I don't think interrogating or torture will work on him ether," Harry commented.
"Nor death," Judith added.
"No." Harry said. "Which is why interrogating him won't work."
Judith opened her mouth to say something but Harry cut her off. "And I'm not going to prostitute myself to Captain Jack to get information out of him."
"Pity," Judith sighed.
-/
Harry returned to Owen over an hour and a half after he'd left him, as Owen had not come up to the house.
"I was beginning to get concerned," Harry said as he walked into the make shift autopsy room. "I thought I'd..." Harry trailed off as he found that Owen Caudwell had taken him to his word to 'do whatever you need to' in order to work out what made Andrew Fuller and his body special and resistant to certain spells.
"I utilised some of your 'bio-hazard' containment vessels," Owen explained, motioning to some bins and drums he'd left in the make-shift room.
"I see," Harry said, his eye drawn to the body of Andrew Fuller. Parts of which had been dissected down to the bone, while other parts were apparently still intact. "Did you discover-"
Owen cut him off. "What made this wizard impervious to certain spells?" He asked raising an eyebrow at Harry. "Indeed," Owen paused to pull off some rubber gloves. Noticing that Harry noticed. "Some muggle technology is simpler than the wizarding solution," he explained as he pulled on a fresh pair. "There are various small surgical incisions throughout his body, there were things implanted on the bone and below the skin."
"Things?" Harry asked moving in closer. Owen held up a dish.
"I removed some from his left heel." He passed Harry the dish.
Harry looked at it. It was small and looked not quite metallic. "Odd."
"Very," Owen looked at him "It's most intriguing," he paused and pointed to the heel area. "At each point of incision there appears to be intense use of dittany, from the residue the levels are above that of what a normal wizard could withstand," he paused. "Potentially toxic."
Harry felt a twang of memory and thanked Merlin that it wasn't from his pensieve memories. Owen was watching him. "That's familiar," Harry explained slowly. "And not in a good way. But it is in keeping with what I suspect Fuller was deeply involved in."
"And that was?" Owen inquired.
"Dark and dangerous things," Harry didn't so much explain.
"I see," Owen said, not seeing.
"It probably isn't pertinent to this Owen," Harry said looking at him seriously. "There's things LPI's encountered that I don't want to burden you with considering."
Owen looked at him carefully. "I see, and understand. Just looking at you, it gives me some insight Harry."
Owen continued to explain all the other minor things that Fuller had in his body until he came to the remains of the skull and even more so the remains of the brain, what was left of it.
"I noted that, I assume you or your colleagues attempted to probe the remains?" he asked.
Harry nodded. "We were trying to illicit a response from what remains of the brain matter."
Owen looked at him with curious fascination. "You thought you could extract something from a dead body?"
"Not one this long dead, no, but we thought we'd give it a shot," Harry admitted.
"What interesting work and devices you have access to Harry?" He wondered.
Harry smiled mysteriously. "You have no idea Owen. No idea."
"If this is what you face I might like to," he replied.
Harry regarded him curiously. "Often there's people trying to kill us." Harry turned around, half expecting Judith to have crept up on him to correct what he'd said. Owen gave him a puzzled expression. "Just paranoid," Harry said by way of an explanation.
"That would come, Harry from people attempting to kill you I assume?" Owen asked in an amused, though somewhat serious tone.
Harry nodded from side to side mulling over what Owen asked and then shook his head. "That's mostly from Judith snarking at my desire for an interesting life not filled with sedentary times and boring social outings."
"I see..." Owen trailed off and then returned to the lack of brain on Mr Fuller. "It is disappointing that there is little remaining of the brain, it would, even in death have enlightened to what life this wizard lived."
"It would?" Harry asked surprised. "I wouldn't have thought many wizards leave their body to whatever passes for science in the Ministry."
"They don't," Owen paused. "But there have been some studies done and conclusions drawn from what information there is."
"Interesting," Harry commented wanting to know more but sensed that if he asked Owen Cauldwell would answer obliquely as Harry often did. Harry nodded for Owen to continue.
-/
As Owen neared the end of his report to Harry, Harry asked the question he'd been wanted to know. "Did he kill himself, or was he murdered?"
"It is entirely possible that he killed himself. The angle of the skull's destruction and the dislocation of his shoulder is in keeping with a spell with enough force to blow apart the skull and brain matter sprayed away from the skull," Owen explained.
Owen continued. "But likely it could have been done by someone else."
Harry sighed. "I wish there was the wand equivalent of gunpowder trace evidence," he said mostly to himself. "We don't have a wand of his to test to see what he did."
"Taken by whomever took the body before you were aligned with it presumably," Owen wondered.
"Presumably yes," Harry mused. "Probably disappeared or sold off to someone for a large amount of cash."
"Only if it's a pre-war wand," Owen commented off-handedly.
"Yes. Is there anything to that?" He asked Cauldwell curiously. Daphne had inferred something similar when they'd been in the 1970s, but he'd been a little distracted at the time finishing off Ginny's minion they'd encountered to press her further on it.
"Supposedly. But there are many other wand makers now. Ollivander isn't the only option for new Hogwarts students," Owen seemed to speak from a position of knowledge on the subject, or at least his tone suggested this.
Harry wanted to press him further on this and many other topics, but they were still standing over a dead body trying to discern its secrets.
"I will prepare a detailed written report for LPI within the next few days Harry," Owen said, seemingly signalling the end of their discussion after Harry remained silent – in thought for a little too long.
"There's no rush, I don't suppose..." Harry trailed off. "No, never mind."
"No, please ask," Owen pushed.
"Don't suppose the typewriter has made it into wizarding report writing?" Harry asked curiously. Owen shook his head. Harry sighed. "Maybe I'll invent one, go into partnership with Rita Skeeta," Harry snorted to himself. "Never mind. Send it here," he said to Owen.
Owen nodded. "Also I can, if you would like look into Andrew Fuller's family, who I would assume would like his body when your organisation is finished with it."
Harry hadn't really thought of it. "I would assume that. I would also presume that he has no family to speak of," Harry answered but nodded. "Yes, if it's no trouble Owen."
He nodded. "I'll send what I find with my report Harry."
-/
It was late afternoon, almost evening by the time Harry saw Owen off to the road so he could apparate away.
"So was he useful?" Harry didn't even bother to be shocked by Judith's appearance next to him as Owen apparated away.
Harry looked at the road and turned back towards the house. "He might be. He certainly enlightened some things."
"And?" Judith pressed.
"You weren't listening?" Harry asked her curiously.
"Two men standing around a dead man talking. I've got TV shows for that," Judith shook her head.
"They'd probably cut out all the boring bits," Harry admitted. "Want to stay for dinner?" He asked. Judith shook her head. Harry gave a quick summary as he walked into his house.
"Interesting. Any ideas?" She asked.
"Too many ideas, not enough coherent thoughts," he admitted.
Judith patted him gently on the back. "That's you in general Harry Potter."
-/
Harry stood out in one of his fields, reports from Owen Cauldwell having been abandoned. Instead he'd decided to finish sorting out, compiling and working through the memories of that other alternate timeline. The Other-Harry who'd helped him, who'd prepared him for this he was eternally grateful.
Now he understood, now he had a linear progression, he had experienced it, laid it out and locked those broad brushstrokes away. What had happened, the everything that was there along with the gaps and everything in between. Those irritating annoying gaps which he was sure would have revealed more to him, but were gone, eaten on the winds of time...or something.
He wanted to shout, wanted to cry, he wanted to do so many things. Instead he stared up at the night sky, looked at the great mass of stars, the great blackness that their planet was rushing through. He shared some of its silence, staring up at the great mass, deep in thought.
He understood and felt for Harry, the alternate Harry in that destroyed world, the pain, the suffering he had seen and experienced.
There were also those irritating gaps, gaps left, Harry presumed by the way they had crashed through the vortex to find him, or maybe through the integration and affect that they had on him, his biodata. Or maybe because he was a nexus point in all of this and not everything could come through. Fortunately so perhaps? He didn't really know. Maybe not knowing was good for something things.
He was however vaguely sure that it had something to do with time travel. That was perhaps why some memories hadn't passed through the vortex to him, because they had already interacted with the vortex. Perhaps that was why a majority of the experiences, the changes to his biodata, the memories passed through, because they were unaffected, perhaps...something like that maybe?
He only had an inkling of this from some memories after the gaps that suggested something like that. He knew, felt, thought, that the alternate Harry had considered or indeed had dabbled in time travel to escape that other world. Seemingly unsuccessfully, but it had left gaps in the memories that flowed through from that alternate Harry to him. At times it felt like he was desperately grabbing at a rope made of spaghetti and greased with butter.
Now, as he stared up at the sky he wondered if he could let it all rest. Whether he could keep it all locked within his mind so he didn't, couldn't just think about it with a stray thought. To use the blocks, locks and protections Other-Harry had shown him to keep these things into his mind so no one could find them.
There was one final thing that he was still left to think on. The alternate Harry's memories, feelings and thoughts on the Doctor.
The Doctor and his choices in that timeline, the one they all so nearly avoided, the choices made to get there and now where they all were not under the Master's rule and the Doctor's gamble.
The Doctor and everyone on the Valiant escaped from that timeline.
Their, or rather his and Martha's choices only lived on in them, and now him.
What did that mean for his relationship with the Doctor? Harry wondered to himself as he looked up at the sky.
The Doctor lies.
The Doctor plays chess with planets and people.
He manipulates.
He schemes.
Harry had seen some of this in the brief time that he and Draco had travelled with the Doctor.
He knew other Doctors who did such things.
But nothing on such a grand scale, gambling the lives and deaths of the whole population of the planet on...one life? The Master's, of all people.
The Doctor had maintained that Earth was his favourite planet.
That "it is defended".
Did this timeline, what the Master had done and what the Doctor had and had not done showed that the human race had no defence against a Doctor who wanted to gamble with the human race when it suited him? Harry continued internally musing to himself.
He now fully appreciated the alternate him's choices, to leave Earth for Mars. Audacious though it was, desperate circumstances and all that. He could not have known that the Doctor's gamble would pay off. Harry knew he would do the same if faced with a situation like that.
Harry exhaled, he was essentially agreeing with himself, about another of his selves' choices.
Like the Doctor in an odd way.
Just like that Other-Harry, with his scary woman friend. Another facet, another Harry in the multiverse. Another self.
Harry gazed up at the busy night's sky again. He knew he would have to talk with Jack and Martha, that was inevitable, they were all on this planet as the Doctor had once said to him long ago when they'd been wandering through the tents at the Quidditch World Cup 'the Earth is spinning at a thousand miles an hour, and the entire planet is hurtling round the sun at sixty seven thousand miles an hour' they; himself, Jack and Martha were all here on this planet, they couldn't jump off not without a time traveller's help.
The Doctor had revealed that his choices might not be those of humanity, and Harry wasn't sure what that meant, he knew that he'd have to meet the Doctor again, visit him perhaps when he's around. Find some answers for himself.
Then as he was feeling dragged down by this revelation he'd discovered for himself he felt hands and body envelop around him from behind.
"Considering the vast sky again Harry?" Asked the woman, whose hands enveloped him.
Harry relaxed into her body. "Considering the choices. What has come before, what has not happened and how, if, it affects going forward."
There was some silence as they both stood under the night's sky, the only noise; the occasional sound of a woodland creature.
"You have finished with your...pensieve?" Daphne asked carefully. After he'd revealed what had happened to her...the other her that is, she'd not asked much. Only to say that she was here for him. She implied that she understood the incredibly personal nature of the memories within the pensieve. But also such revelations were taxing.
"I have..." Harry trailed off. Unsure if he was finished with it. He knew he needed to move forward, into the future away from it. He also was determined not to linger on it. The past, even the averted past was the past. He would learn from it, move forward. "I will live and learn from my curiosity and not be constrained by it." He finally said turning around to look at her.
"Good." She said kissing him.
"How about some supper?" He asked taking her hand in his intent on walking back up to the house.
Daphne looked at him. "Only supper," she warned. "Your injuries have yet to fully heal."
Harry looked at her with exaggerated upset expression. Daphne jabbed him lightly in the ribs.
"Hey!" He exclaimed. Daphne looked at him with a serious expression. "Fine, just supper."
-/ - \\-
Harry was feeling better, though he still had questions in his mind, he felt he had rounded off a section of the recent past. He'd flattened those memories out so they were in a line of their own broad brushstrokes and locked them away. Now he could consider the present and the future going forward, fresh, anew.
Such as pancakes at this very moment.
He'd woken from a night of intimacy with the woman he loved with a craving for pancakes.
Or waffles. Some sort of batter-based breakfast food. He was just finishing the batter when he heard Daphne call out. A worried, suspicious tone was present in her voice.
"Harry?" She called from the front door.
-/
Harry arrived there to see Daphne pointing her wand at a woman. At least that's what Harry thought when he first looked at her.
"Yes?" Harry asked slowly looking between Daphne and this woman.
"Harry...there's something..." Daphne began, but wasn't sure.
"Yes," Harry said again with a different inflection. "It's like a..." He trailed off looking at the woman.
"Like a notice me not or..." Daphne trailed off.
"Like the beginnings of the Imperius curse. That shifting of perception...something just off on how you read someone." Harry continued musing aloud. "Like looking into the face of something, and your body, your senses telling you that it's something else," he finished looking at the woman hard.
"My name is Darla von Karlsen," said the woman whom Daphne was still pointing a wand at.
"Never heard of you." Harry said, a thought niggling at the back of his mind and the front of his perception.
She tilted her head slightly. "I come representing the Da-"
Harry didn't let her finish he knew what the rest of that word was. "Oh," he paused briefly. "That," he said with an exhalation of breath. "I'll be with you in a moment," he shut the door without another word.
Daphne looked at him carefully. "This is something of your work? Something dangerous?"
"Very dangerous, and something I'm still not sure about," he admitted. "But something I agreed to, because," he exhaled again. "Of my curiosity."
Daphne smiled. "And that never gets you in trouble does it Harry?" She watched him curiously.
Harry laughed. "Never. I should be safe enough. I think Ms Von Karlsen just wants a chat."
"If not, would we be dead?" Daphne asked half playfully, but carefully watching him.
"Paralysed. Stunned at the most," Harry answered.
"Very well," she stepped aside.
"I'll go for a walk around the paddocks, and be back in time for pancakes," he said kissing her.
"You had better be Harry Potter."
-/
Harry opened the door to find Darla von Karlsen waiting patiently outside. "Should I even bother to ask how you found my house?" He asked her.
"Only if you wish for an explanation," she said simply.
Harry wondered if he really did want an answer. He motioned towards the paddocks so they could have a wander and a talk.
"My mate the Specialist hasn't come with you?" Harry asked looking around. No spaceship, saucer or blue pepper pot.
"It was considered that a human likeness would be more agreeable than their presence," she explained watching him.
"I didn't mind his presence, I hugged him and everything," Harry paused. "In a necessary in the heat of battle sort of way," he tried to explain, he was sure he was only making it sound more like he had some sort of fetish. Wanting to be in the presence of them rather than a woman in leather.
"Of course," she said in a matter of fact tone. "You do not need to explain your interactions with them."
"No, I suppose I don't," Harry mused. "So what are you doing here Darla von Karlsen, aside from scaring my houseguest."
"Your houseguest did not find my appearance agreeable?" she asked, at least Harry thought it was a question, it might be an observation. Her odd inflections combined with an accent he couldn't place made it hard to read into what she was saying.
"She and I both recognised that you're not entirely..." He trailed off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"Indeed," she answered obliquely before continuing. "This is for you." She presented him with something flat with a screen and a few buttons. It was like someone had designed a mobile phone, with their own design aesthetic. It was very them.
"And this is?" He asked taking it, feeling it over in his hand.
"Part of your agreement; a means of contact." She explained.
"My agreement. Why now?" He wondered feeling and turning the device over in his hand.
"You are aware of a major temporal event that occurred recently on this planet?" She asked. Harry nodded. "It prevented any temporal travel to this planet until recently."
"I see," Harry said. "That sort of thing creates temporal disruption," he wondered mostly to himself.
"Indeed," she agreed.
Harry was going to ask more, but he still didn't quite trust his agreement, after all it was with them not exactly the most ideal people to be doing deals with, or trusting. But they didn't need to drop a phone into him. Unless it was going to come to life and face hug him in the night. Harry wanted to glare at his internal monologue. At least he was worrying about that rather than the nightmares that despite locking away most of them still surfaced. Locking away, even the broadest of brushstrokes only worked so far. Other-Harry had warned him of this.
"If there isn't anything else?" He eventually asked Darla von Karlsen.
"No, that is all Harry Potter," she said, almost stated. It was weird, sometimes when she spoke it was very casual almost human, then other sentences, like that one was almost like them.
In some ways Harry thought he'd prefer to chat to the Specialist. At least he knew what he was getting chatting to the blue Strategist. "I'll walk you back to the house then." He said turning away from her to indicate the path they'd taken.
When he turned back she was gone, it was like talking to a wizard, without the pop of disapparition. He'd wanted to ask her who he'd get when he dialled for help, or a chat or whatever on the whatever it was phone-screen-thing she'd given him.
Tucking said device into this pocket he trudged back up to the house, waving at Daphne whom he could see watching from the window.
-/
Once inside she presented him with a plate of pancakes. "Your discussion with that individual was a success?"
Harry mused on the question. "She didn't try to kill me. That's a positive."
"Indeed it is Harry Potter," she kissed him. "Now that I have returned, my ship will be unloaded soon, what shall we do with our time?"
Harry grinned. "We could just spend all day in bed?"
"How very decadent," she gently chastised.
"Or, we could take a short trip." He asked, more requested.
"Really?" She looked at him critically over pancakes.
"To Cardiff. Have a nice meal. Maybe with Draco or Hermione or something," Harry offered.
Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. "And pursue something of your investigation with the flirtatious Captain Harkness?"
Harry nodded an admittance. "Yes. There is something I would like to ask him about, several things. But I can limit myself."
"You will Harry Potter, you're barely healed. Danger can wait," she ordered.
"Yes Ma'am," Harry mock saluted.
-/
A/N:
This sort of rounds off Harry's process of dealing going through alternate Harry's memories. Although they'll never completely leave him.
Darla von Karlsen is the Dalek puppet that does most of the talking to the Doctor in Asylum of the Daleks.
