AN: I hope I do all characters justice... The original plan was to have Ulrir help, but when I thought of this scenario, I couldn't not. So, enjoy! And if you haven't seen Good Omens, go watch it, I highly recommend it. Also, if you have any ideas or requests for adventures for Harry and the Doctor before they go rescue Sirius, let me know, I'm open to suggestions!

Chapter 6 finally got published, so here goes for chapter 7. If these updating problems persist, I did also post this story on AO3, so if you can't read these chapters you can check it out there.

***HPadMwaB***

Harry and the Doctor stood on a street corner in Soho, looking across the street at the bookshop. It was an unprepossessing place, which seemed to be doing its best to not attract the attention of passers-by. From here, it looked like a normal bookstore, except hardly anyone spared it a second glance, even if they were windowshopping. Not everyone was deterred, but enough people were that it became noticeable after a while – if you took the time, which not many people did.

"Low-level perception filter, it looks like," the Doctor said. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, that's where we need to be. If Ulrir's information is correct. Ready?"

Harry nodded. "I just hope it's the last stop. I want to stop worrying about this so much."

"Only one way to find out. Allons-y!"

As usual, Harry's hand found the Doctor's while they crossed the street. The boy was still amazed, even after all these months, that he was never brushed off. It was a nice feeling.

When the Doctor pushed open the door, a little bell tinkled, all proper-like. The Doctor grinned for a moment at the sound, before looking around curiously. Much like one would expect from a bookshop, it was filled to the brim with... well, books. He was almost impressed, except he was used to the TARDIS library.

"Crowley, is that you?" called a voice from somewhere in the back. The Doctor put on his brainy specs and started browsing the books, while Harry wandered around the stacks. He tried to read a couple of titles, but most of them went right over his head, so he gave it up as a bad job. He'd been practicing his reading with the Doctor, but the titles sounded boring enough that he wasn't tempted to open them.

He'd just completed a tour and had arrived back with the Doctor when the shop's owner came bustling out. Before they could say anything the man glanced at the Doctor and said, "Oh, so it is you. You had me worried there for a moment, I thought it was a customer. Why didn't you answer? Come on through to the back, why don't you."

With that, the fussy man disappeared back where he came from, leaving the Doctor speechless.

"What just happened?" Harry asked.

The Doctor grinned. "I have no idea. But I can't wait to find out!" He gestured to where the white-blond man had disappeared.

The two of them made their way to the back room, where the man was sitting with a book in his hand, although it was currently closed with his finger marking his place. A pair of glasses perched on his nose.

"So, was there something you needed?" he asked. "You don't usually come around to the shop."

Only then did he seem to notice Harry, who had sought safety against the Doctor's side. The sight brought him up short.

"Uhm," he said eloquently.

He raised one finger and frowned, then tried again. The Doctor seemed content to wait and see how the scene would play out. Contrary to popular belief, the alien did manage to shut his gob every once in a while, although only when it amused him.

The shopkeeper didn't take his eyes from Harry.

"Crowley, no offense, my dear, but you seem to have a small child attached to your hip. Were you aware of this, and if so, may I ask why? I'm just saying, I know you have a soft spot for them even if you wouldn't admit it in a thousand years, but you're still a demon."

"Oi, who're you calling demon? I thought I was supposed to be the rude one." Looked like the Doctor thought things had gone far enough.

The man's eyes went comically wide, and for the first time he really looked at the Doctor.

"... you're not Crowley, are you." he said.

The Doctor grinned. "Nope!" he said, popping the p. "I'm the Doctor."

The man blinked.

"Right. That is... uncanny. I should've known, I though something felt off. Only... even if you're not my demon, you still don't feel very human, do you? You feel like... I don't know, like neither side has jurisdiction over you? How is that even possible? Who are you?"

"I told you, I'm the Doctor. Also, I'm not the only non-human in this room, am I? You're giving me a headache with the number of dimensions you're existing in. How about I tell you who I am if you tell me who you are?"

"Oh alright, that seems fair. My name is Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate. I'm an angel."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "An angel? Really? I had no idea you actually existed! That is brilliant! Rather unexpected, yes, but brilliant nevertheless! Molto bene! Harry, I do believe Ulrir knew what he was talking about. Alright, mister Angel, we have a bit of a favour to ask."

"You haven't told me who you are yet." said Aziraphale.

"Oh, right, I did promise that, didn't I? I'm a Time Lord from the planet of Gallifrey in the constellation of Casterbouros. Pleasure to meet you."

"Wait, you're that Doctor? Oh! Oh my! I've been hoping to meet you some day. I will admit I'm something of an aficionado, part of my collection is devoted to the legend of the Doctor. You do get around, do you not, my dear fellow? Although, if it is not indelicate of me to ask... there seem to be several different Doctors running around? I have found references to old men, young men, women, with big ears or small ears, prominent eyebrows or no eyebrows at all, in all manner of clothing styles. How does it all work?"

The Doctor was bouncing on his toes, grinning madly from ear to ear. "Oh, I could tell you, but... wait, women? Did you say women? Did I forget being a woman? That seems like the sort of thing one would remember, don't you think?"

The Doctor was interrupted by a small hand tugging on his jacket sleeve. Seeing the earnest expression on the boy's face, he focused back on the task at hand.

"Sorry, Harry. I got a bit carried away there. Mister Aziraphale, could I ask for that favour first? I will explain the rest later, but this is important, and we were told you could help."

"Oh, of course. Tell me the problem and I will see what I can do."

And so the Doctor explained – again – about the Anomaly and the golden net, as well as what Ulrir had said about the two phenomena being related to souls somehow.

"Ah. Yes. Well. I can see why your friend might have referred you to me. Souls are rather part of my purview, so to speak. Or at least, human souls are. Come, child, let me see what I can do to help you."

Harry came closer to where Aziraphale was sitting. He wasn't sure just yet if he actually believed the man to be an angel, but the Doctor certainly seemed to take him at his word, and that was good enough for Harry.

He was getting used to people poking around in his head. To think, only a couple of months ago he hadn't even known that was a thing that could happen, and now he could even start comparing techniques! Ulrir had not needed physical contact, although he did require Harry imagining and subsequently opening a door. The Doctor had placed his long fingers against Harry's temples, and now Aziraphale needed the physical contact again, but instead of touching his face, the angel placed both of his hands fully on top of Harry's head, much like a priest uttering a benediction.

The sensation was quite different from the other two times. He didn't take Harry along for the right, as Ulrir had done, but he also didn't seem to be inside his mind the way the Doctor had been. The connection this time went deeper, past the level of thoughts and memories and even emotions, to the very core of his being.

After a second of eternity, Aziraphale stepped back and let go of Harry's head, looking at him with sad eyes.

"Oh. Oh dear. I'm going to need assistance if I'm going to help you. Do you mind if I call over a..." he hesitated slightly, "... a friend?"

"But you can do it?" the Doctor asked, "you can help?"

Aziraphale smiled, if not quite as exuberantly as the Doctor usually did. "Oh yes, no doubt about it, but my province is more the good souls. You know, the ones that go..." he pointed upwards without finishing his sentence. "But that... that... what did you call it, Anomaly? That does not at all fall under my jurisdiction, you see. So my friend needs to help."

"Ok, call him then," the Doctor said. "The sooner this is over and done with, the better. I'll rest easier knowing Harry is safe from the Anomaly."