A.N.: Hello, dear readers! To be honest, I thought I wouldn't be able to write-slash-post a new chapter until mid-December at the earliest, so I'm quite pleased to be able to present chapter 3 to you before then. Enjoy! ^^

Disclaimer: Alas, ownership of Harry Potter and Doctor Who has not suddenly transferred to me and they continue to be the property of J. K. Rowling and the BBC, respectively. *sighs*

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Chapter 3

This. Was. Perfect!

The Master had to suppress an unreservedly gleeful laugh as he sauntered into the living room, his mind replaying the entire conversation he'd just had with the Potter boy. Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, for ten years hailed by many as the successor to Albus Dumbledore's position of 'Leader of the Light'… and, yet, the human boy had had no knowledge of any of that, no idea the wizarding world existed, hadn't even known he was a wizard! In fact, the Master – or, rather, 'Harold Saxon' – had been the boy's first contact with the wizarding world. The Time Lord's control slipped for a moment and his outwardly charming smile transformed into a barely restrained grin.

A change in his plans would usually have been cause for displeasure, but it seemed that luck was on his side. The sheer potential of this…

The moment the news had broken that a one-year-old toddler had somehow become the downfall of that wannabe-ruler Voldemort, the Master had started thinking of a way of ensuring the newly-minted hero wouldn't become a thorn in his side. 'Saviour of the Wizarding World'. What a title to bestow upon a child not yet even able to string together a full sentence! Not to mention it was a title no less sanctimonious than his best enemy's, 'The Doctor' – the Master had all but considered it a given that from the moment he could walk Harry Potter would be raised to follow all the values held by the wizarding world's so called 'Light Side' and worship the very ground trod upon by its esteemed leader, Albus Dumbledore. After all, he'd reckoned, it was what any self-respecting manipulator would have done to ensure their position of power and, loathe though he was to acknowledge it, the elderly wizard had shown himself to be a fairly skilled one. For all intents and purposes, Harry Potter would have been the wizarding world's version of the Doctor, annoying tendency to ruin the Master's plans included, and it was this Harry Potter that he had been preparing himself to deal with.

It wasn't often that the Master found his reasoning regarding a field he was universally acknowledged to be the best in to be so tremendously off.

The boy's lack of knowledge hadn't been the only surprise, either. For someone who was meant to be the wizarding world's 'Golden Boy', the very epitome of 'light' and 'good', there was an unexpectedly dark side lurking beneath the surface. Oh, how delightfully that anger had smoldered in those green eyes upon the young wizard realizing he'd been lied to by his relatives his entire life and been denied his birthright; and the Master had easily recognized the telltale signs of the first embers of revenge finding a home within the boy's heart.

There was no doubt in his mind that Harry Potter would make his relatives pay for withholding such an integral part of his identity from him and not only would the boy enjoy it, he would be clever about it. The way he'd held himself and spoken with a level of maturity beyond his years had hinted at the latter, but it had been the book he'd been holding which had confirmed it for the Master: 'Quantum Phase Transitions'. This apparent level of intelligence had certainly come as a surprise – the apes of this planet were capable of understanding advanced physics on that level only at a much later stage in their education, yet here was a child who'd not even completed his 11th year of life and was already tackling such material. If that interest extended to other fields of science and mathematics as well… a smirk found its way onto the Master's lips while he sent a third text message from his phone and promptly started on the fourth one.

The boy would likely find himself either frustrated or disgusted by the wizarding world's ignorance of non-magical advancements and technology. Yet another venue through which the Master would be able to draw Harry Potter to his side, he concluded.

Amber-flecked hazel eyes idly surveyed the living room, noting the almost eye-wateringly 'normal' air created by the furniture and its positioning, the dull colours screaming 'ordinary' and 'boring', and the myriad of family pictures propped upon shelves and adorning the walls that were meant to give off the impression of a loving family living in this house. The Time Lord paused in his inspection and focused his attention on the photos. Except… it wasn't the entire family he was seeing depicted. One person was rather conspicuously absent from every single frame: Harry Potter. Well, well, well, what an interesting implication. The Master made a mental note to investigate this further once the young wizard had started his first year at Hogwarts.

After a final press of the 'send' button he returned his phone to his inside coat pocket and turned back towards the entrance hallway, quickly schooling his face back into a generally affable look when he spotted Petunia Dursley dithering at the living room's threshold. He silently observed her alternating anxious glances at him and at the staircase with no small amount of curiosity. Oh, what was this? She was cautious of him? Putting her under that mild hypnosis earlier had been child's play and she should not have been able to be aware of it. Did the woman possess some sensitivity to telepathy? No, she was very much plain and there was nothing out of the ordinary about her. Perhaps her anxiety simply came from the precarious position he'd placed her in by informing her nephew about his heritage; a glint of evil amusement entered his gaze as he recalled the Potter boy's reaction. For concern to already be present, Mrs. Dursley would have to have cause for it, meaning that there was something about her nephew that put her on edge. Intriguing. A precarious position for her indeed.

One to which he could give a little… push.

Liking the idea that had just occurred to him more and more by the second, the Master listened for a moment to make sure that the young wizard wasn't on his way down before effortlessly catching the woman's gaze during one of her worried glances in his direction. "You will write and sign a note stating Harry Potter has full permission to stay with friends for educational purposes for the rest of the summer. You will obey me." His command was instantly followed and less than a minute later the signed paper was in his hands. The Time Lord allowed himself to meanly grin at the woman when, task now completed, she came out of the hypnosis and stared at him in a mix of confusion and apprehension. "I recommend you consider what you're going to say and do once your nephew decides to… address… your withholding of information," the Master remarked almost as an afterthought, a subtle sinister note to the otherwise casual comment.

The effect was immediate and Mrs. Dursley's trepidation visibly grew. Excellent. Her mind would now torment her with image after image of how that particular conversation with her nephew might go; and the longer it didn't take place, the more the tension would rise and drive her mad with distress. Ah, how he wished he could be there to see the result of continuously strained nerves snapping when the Potter boy finally confronted her…

"I'm ready to go, Mr. Saxon."

A quick clearing of his throat prevented the laugh that escaped him from being recognized as such when the harmless statement caused Mrs. Dursley to visibly freeze in place. The timing couldn't have been better! The Master stepped around the near-petrified woman and joined the young wizard at the foot of the stairs with a genial smile.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter! I've just spoken with your aunt and – in light of her actions towards you – your aunt has agreed to you staying with me the rest of the summer so that you may become better acquainted with the wizarding world." It was a calculated gamble, throwing so many surprises at the boy within such a short space of time, but the opportunity to establish himself not only as someone he could trust, but also as his primary source of information about and insight into the wizarding world was too good to pass up. If this succeeded...

"She what?!" the exclamation fell from Harry's lips before he could suppress it, eyebrows rocketing to his hairline.

Well, he could hardly be blamed for his surprise, the young boy reasoned. After all, his aunt voluntarily doing anything even remotely nice for him was surely one of the signs of the apocalypse. In other words: it was an utterly and completely unlikely event and hell would sooner freeze over than allow the occurrence of such a phenomenon. Yet, there was no lie in Mr. Saxon's eyes. His own narrowed in suspicion and darted towards the once more motionless figure of his aunt as he tried to figure out what her angle in this was. Aside from getting him out of the house for the entire next month… wait. Out of the house. For the entire next month. Possibly until the start of the winter holidays, even, maybe longer if boarding during the break was allowed! Furrowed eyebrows gradually relaxed the more Harry considered the situation and realized the benefits. His aunt had, amazingly enough, thought of a win-win situation for both of them. A delighted expression settled over his face and he turned his attention back to the official in front of him.

Perhaps there was a modicum of intelligence in his aunt after all.

"Thank you, Mr. Saxon." The gratitude in his voice was heartfelt and the smile he gave him was cheerful in a way that he hadn't experienced in longer than he could remember. For the first time since he'd begun despairing over having to wait until his majority to get away from the Dursleys, he had hope.

"It is your birthright, Mr. Potter – leaving you ignorant of it would be a crime," came the man's reply, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes, before he started down the hallway, calling out over his shoulder. "Shall we, then?"

A crime. His hold on the two letters clutched in his hand briefly tightened. Yes, that was certainly an appropriate word for it, Harry considered. Anger lanced through him again and his attention snapped to Petunia, who had marshalled enough nerve to turn around and face him. There was fear in her eyes and Harry took a moment to enjoy the knowledge that she was aware of the ramifications of her action and that this would not be the last time the subject of what she had done would be raised; however, it was the distinct lack of guilt that rooted him to the spot as hurt agonizingly closed its claws over his heart. He hadn't thought he cared enough about his aunt, his blood family, to feel the pain of betrayal – he was mistaken. Burying the emotion deep down, the young wizard bared his teeth at her in a dark grin, a manic note to the turn of his lips as he stepped closer and murmured: "Until next time, my dear aunt. I very much look forward to our conversation."

Harry didn't deign her with the chance to answer as he pivoted on his heel and strode after Mr. Saxon, reaching the man where he'd been waiting for him in the open doorway of n°4. Smiling at him, the official continued on towards the car waiting for them, ready to drive them to wherever it was that wizards and witches went shopping; ready to take Harry away from Privet Drive for, if he was lucky, the better part of a year. Freedom was within reach. The near-euphoric feeling that surged through him at this thought brought a small skip to his step for the last few feet to the black vehicle before he stepped inside after Mr. Saxon, his forefinger lightly tapping an excited four-beat against his Hogwarts letter.

Speaking of which…

The instant he had closed the door behind him and put on the seatbelt, Harry avidly gazed at the invitation to the school, his fingers gently running over the course material as he finally had the opportunity to inspect it more closely. Parchment. An envelope made of actual parchment! In this day and age! With a small grin he flipped the letter over, gaze lingering on the crest embossed into the broken wax seal. A wax seal. Was this standard practice in the wizarding world, he wondered, using wax seals and parchment like they had never gone out of fashion? He would have to ask Mr. Saxon. Just as delighted over the oddity within his grasp as he had been when he'd first felt and seen it, Harry removed the two pieces of parchment from within and read the first one for what felt like the hundredth time.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards )

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Here, here was further proof, if he'd had any doubt remaining after Mr. Saxon's revelation, that he indeed had a place in the wizarding world. The wizarding world… what was it like? What were the people like? What was their way of life like? What were their traditions? If there were wizards and witches, were there also magical creatures? How close to – or far from – the truth were the fairy tales of the non-magical world? Question after question raced through Harry's mind while he continued to quietly marvel at this unexpected development in his life; questions which he could hardly wait to discover the answers to. In fact, the young boy realized with a start, he needn't have to wait at all! After all, there was a reliable source of information right next to him.

It was only then that he registered that his backseat companion had been completely silent since the car had set off from Privet Drive.

Turning towards the government official, he found amber-flecked hazel eyes thoughtfully observing him. The moment Mr. Saxon saw that Harry's attention had shifted he gave him a friendly smile. Now that the previously irritating mystery of the 'impending event' feeling had passed and some of his shock over the revelation of the existence of magic and the wizarding world had settled, Harry took a few moments to look at the man beside him more carefully. Actually, for someone connected to a hidden society of magicals, Mr. Saxon appeared surprisingly ordinary. He paused; amended his assessment after a longer glance. No, not ordinary, simply not overtly extraordinary – beneath his unassuming outside appearance, there was something in his eyes, something… other.

"I imagine you have some questions, Mr. Potter," the man remarked, his tone carrying a faint note of amusement, and Harry wondered whether his intention when he'd turned towards him had been so transparent.

"Many! I…" the young wizard's voice trailed off, abruptly finding himself both overwhelmed by the sheer lack of knowledge he possessed – a decidedly unfamiliar state for him – and intimidated by the thought of entering into this whole new world so woefully unprepared. Lowering his gaze to his lap, he started to idly trace the corner of one of the parchment pages, the latter action a vain attempt at forcing himself not to react to the surge of resentment elicited by the realization of the extent of the consequences of his aunt's decision to hide this entire part of his heritage, of his very identity, from him. His frustration only barely covered the hint of bitterness that found its way into his words as he bit out: "I don't even know where to start."

"Just pick one and we will go from there." A sudden weight on his shoulder made Harry glance up, the steady feel of Mr. Saxon's hand offering a welcome anchor amidst the emotional turmoil inside him. A serious, yet still understanding expression settled on the man's face as he continued: "What your aunt did is detestable, but not something that can't be rectified – and we will have a whole month to get you as up to speed as possible." The gravity of the moment was broken by the almost impish grin following the removal of the hand from of his shoulder. "Chin up, Mr. Potter! Going by that book I saw you holding earlier, you are an intelligent young man. Compared to advanced physics, it will be a piece of cake."

For a few moments all Harry could do was blankly stare at Mr. Saxon, bewildered by the acuity of his observation. Never before had an adult treated him as something other than a child. Yet here was one who had not only taken notice of his intellect and acknowledged it, but had also addressed him with respect. The man had once again said 'we', too. Until now Harry had been cautious about believing the seemingly genuine offer of help, but with his continued inclusion and his new summer living arrangements it was increasingly looking like Mr. Saxon may be someone worth trusting. Lessons learned the hard way kept the young wizard from unquestioningly accepting the camaraderie proffered to him, but he could feel himself relax, tension he hadn't even been aware of slowly receding while his self-confidence returned. Learning had always been an enjoyable activity for him and knowledge – something to be sought; and he would not be venturing into this alone either. As for his aunt… he would take his time in dealing with her act of familial betrayal. A quick peek towards the driver revealed that there was a partition up between the front and back of the car, which presumably meant that openly talking about magic wouldn't be an issue. A tentative smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Since he was on the subject of family…

"Were my parents magical?" The way his aunt had spoken of his mother and father had always bugged him. Oh, he had figured out early on that the death of her sister leaving her with the unwanted responsibility over her nephew had only been the tip of the iceberg of reasons for her deep-seated hatred, but he had never been able to lay his finger on the main one; on what had eventually led to her so freely calling them all 'freaks'. If they were magical that would certainly be an explanation; though, being magical, how could a car crash have killed them? Surely something so mundane couldn't end the lives of a witch and wizard, even if they were drunk?

"Your parents were both magical, yes," Mr. Saxon confirmed with a small nod. Harry's heart soared at this new piece of information about his parents, not least because it was something that connected him to them beyond merely being their son. However, his moment of joy quickly vanished, flowing unstoppably from his grasp like sand between his fingers, when he caught sight of the sombre bearing of the official. "Some of the finest of their generation, it is said – and it's because of this that they were murdered by a dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort. He was a terrorist and targeted those who opposed his ideal of a 'pure' wizarding society. He was the Hitler of the wizarding world, one might say, and your parents stood up for a fairer and more inclusive magical society." A poignant pause followed, as if to make sure he had Harry's complete attention. "The night he attacked them in their home, there was only one survivor – you, Mr. Potter."

Murdered. Murdered. Not a car crash. Not an accident. Not drunk. Targeted. Murdered. Shock warred with fury. Just when he had thought his aunt's duplicity had reached the bottom of the barrel, he had the rug pulled out from under his feet and discovered it could and did go further. Teeth clenched, Harry closed his eyes, the fingers of his free hand digging into the denim material of his black jeans. How dare she lie to him about his parents' death? Their nature as wizards he could understand, maybe even someday forgive, but this? This was taking it too far! He had considered his parents weak when they had been strong; feckless when they had been brave and had worked towards a good cause; wastrels when they had been heroes who had taken down a dangerous terrorist. A tidal wave of sorrow suddenly welled up in the wake of the hot anger that had been coursing through him, leaving the young boy feeling oddly numb. He opened his eyes and aimlessly looked through the car's window at the passing landscape while his mind recovered and slowly kicked back into gear.

Too many emotional surprises in too little time, the Master assessed. Whether this was something he would be able to make use of or not remained to be seen, but he had already made some excellent progress in establishing himself as a trustworthy figure in the young wizard's eyes. Harry Potter was turning out not to be at all what the Time Lord had expected, indeed, but that merely meant that he now had that much more room for manoeuvre in regard to his plans for the wizarding world. Provided he didn't rush everything and made the right choices, then by the time the Doctor found his way back from Malcassairo his influence over the magical world could be deep-reaching enough that even if things somehow went wrong, he'd still have a good enough base of operations from which to move.

As long as he played his cards right, that is. For one, it would not do to allow the Potter boy to dwell too much on what he had just told him. Honestly, for Harry Potter not to know even his own story… why keep the boy in the dark? Had he been meant to enter the wizarding world with as unbiased a viewpoint as possible, opinion completely malleable? Dumbledore had either decided to take a major risk or had made a big mistake; whichever the case, his loss was now turning into the Master's gain. Clearing his throat, he affected a mien of displeasure and commented: "I see your aunt has been even less forthcoming than I'd thought…"

Mr. Saxon's voice drew the young boy back from his thoughts and Harry turned away from the window, a morose look on his face. "Indeed," he sullenly confirmed, barely stopping himself from sneering at the thought of his dear aunt. Now was not the time to sort out that particular matter, especially when it was one that he wouldn't be able to satisfactorily resolve for a while yet. Briefly shaking his head, as if the physical action could help him shake off that upset, he decided instead to turn his focus to that which had put him into his current state. "Thank you for telling me."

"You, of all people, have a right to know," Mr. Saxon waved off, speaking of him knowing as if it were a given thing. A faint smile tugged at his mouth. The man had no idea just how unusual the concept of having a right to know was to Harry and it made the young wizard warm up more to the official. "I feel I should warn you, Mr. Potter, that the wizarding world by and large views you as its Saviour and has given you the moniker of 'Boy-Who-Lived'."

The what? Boy-Who-Lived? Saviour?

"I… see." Actually, he didn't see at all. Not for the first time that day his eyebrows had shot straight into his hairline. Hiding his bafflement over this news was a futile endeavour and so the boy didn't even make a feeble attempt at doing so. What a ridiculous moniker, just because he had survived when his parents had not! As for him being the wizarding world's Saviour – how on Earth had the magicals come to that ludicrous conclusion?

"Indeed." The lilt of amusement in the man's voice was unmistakable. Harry blinked. Had he spoken that last bit out loud? "I myself never understood where this certainty in your status as saviour came from, nor why it was felt necessary that you be given a title based on speculation – after all, there were no witnesses to what happened that night."

"I wonder who decided that I am this important figure..." The fact that at least Mr. Saxon didn't buy into the entire nonsense was reassuring. Harry shook his head – this was something he'd need time to process. Later. At the moment there were other questions with far more accessible answers. Well, probably. "Aside from my status as some sort of 'wizarding Messiah'," he rolled his eyes, showing just how ridiculous he found this, "what else about the wizarding world should I know?"

"Aside from that little detail…" Mr. Saxon grinned faintly and shot him a conspiratorial wink, pulling a smile from Harry. "For one, seeing as we're about to acquire the supplies you'll need for the upcoming school year, you should be aware that the currency is different to that used in the non-magical world: instead of pounds and pennies there are galleons, sickles, and knuts. There are twenty-nine knuts to a sickle and seven sickles to a galleon. Your financial security was seen to by your parents prior to their deaths, I would imagine. Aesthetically... imagine every fairy tale involving a wizard or witch that you've ever heard of and apply it to reality." A near-grimace crossed the man's face. "Magical society is behind modern times in some aspects, I'm afraid, so fair warning, Mr. Potter – prepare for a bit of a culture shock."

'Behind modern times'? Harry's imagination immediately began weaving together image after image of a medieval-style society with paved streets and storefronts from bygone ages visited by people wearing heavy cloaks and, stars forbid, pointy witch's hats, still living in the belief the Earth was the centre of the universe, had never heard about gravity, lacked all knowledge of electricity and… and… his brain momentarily blanked out as the scenario his mind was putting together reached a level of absurdity beyond his ability to envision. An uneasy feeling settled over him and the young wizard warily confessed with a disconcerted expression on his face: "Pending on the extent, a month may well not be enough for me to get used to the wizarding world."

The Master could not hold back a laugh upon hearing the boy's reply. There was a comical note of dread in the Potter boy's voice which perfectly reflected the emotions the Time Lord had observed flash through those emerald green eyes in the wake of his declaration about the magicals' level of advancement. 'Behind modern times' was putting it mildly: if Earth as a whole was currently a Level 5 according to intergalactic standards, then the wizarding world was limping far behind at a mere Level 2. The stubbornness of the majority of magicals to consider anything by the non-magical as 'lesser' was nothing less than infuriating to anyone knowledgeable in the sciences continuously being studied and developed in the mundane world. The boy shot him a small scowl before sulking, crossing his arms in front of his chest for added effect. The Master grinned.

Surprisingly adult though some of his mannerisms and reactions were, he was still a ten-year-old child.

"Fear not, Mr. Potter. At the end of the day, wizards and witches are human and their motivations are hardly different from the non-magicals'." It was hard to keep his general disdain of humanity out of his voice, but he was nothing if not an accomplished master in the art of lying while telling the truth. "You'll be able to see that for yourself soon enough," he continued and pointed towards a rapidly approaching sign stating that they were entering the London area.

It was a remark that instantly snapped Harry out of any further worries over his ability to cope with the wizarding world's potentially backward level of civilization and technological advancement. Yes, there in the near distance he could see the unmistakable London skyline! The now familiar rush of excitement brushed away any anxiety he'd been feeling and prompted him to lean towards the car window with undisguised eagerness, heart beating faster at the thought that he would soon be stepping foot into the wizarding world.

He would soon be reclaiming his birthright.

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A.N. What a hectic month November has been! However, I am delighted to announce that I'm one step closer to achieving my Master degree. *does a victory sign* That said, I doubt I will be able to get another chapter out until the end of January – I'm now entering the 'study like crazy' phase in preparation for my final exam.

Master: As you should be! *nods decisively* The pursuit of mastery should come first and all else – second.

Lady A: You would know about that, wouldn't you? *smiles, amused* Still, you're quite right. Hopefully, by the time I write-slash-post the next chapter I shall be the bearer of a new title.

Master: As if I would ever allow my benefactor to be someone unsuccessful. *smirks* However, the Master will always be me.

Lady A: *raises hands with a soft laugh* Of course – I would never dream of taking that title from you, Master. I mean, look at the positively masterly plans you're making for the wizarding world! *gestures towards this chapter*

Master: A commendable attitude. *grins* Certainly one deserving to be encouraged.

Lady A: Well, you heard our favourite Time Lord, my dear readers – it is to be encouraged. So LEAVE REVIEWS, PLEASE!