He was staring at the stars again, mouthing words as his eyes scanned the sky. It was clear where he wanted to be, back with his family, sailing between suns and planets. His mind was clearly already there.
"Why do you stay here?" the question came unbidden from her mouth.
He gave her a sad smiled, "I'm a bit of a freak, a Time Lord wizard. No Time Lord had ever been magical before. Even with all my science and logic I still have magic. I'm a danger if I don't control it, it'll react badly with my TARDIS when she's grown and we sail together. I want to help people, save planets, do an awful lot of running. And to do that I need my magic to be mine to command…Hogwarts is in my blood Hermione, as much as running is. My parents, the parents who saved me, came here and so did there Potters before them…"
She came up beside him, "Tell me, what's it's like up there."
He smiled again before it slowly disappeared, "It's not something that can be explained like that; you have to experience it. Oh, but Hermione, I'm gonna take you up there someday I promise you that…"
"Tell me about your family then, explain them…"
"My family is…is all that's left of a once proud race." He closed his eyes, gulping, "My Dad's planet is gone, to a War. It burned, it's going to be burning forever. Their hubris is what destroyed them. They made him destroy them, for it was either them or the Universe…My Dad was always an outcast because he used his power to help people; he's been running since he was eight. You see," Harry stared at her now, and she saw whole galaxies start and die in his eyes, "When Time Lords were eight they were taken to the Academy, think of it as Tine Lord Hogwarts, and their sorting was both wonderful and cruel. There was an opening to all of time, called the Eye of Harmony, and the children were forced to look into it, to behold all of time…Some were inspired by what they saw, some went mad, others…others ran…My uncle is of the second category, my Dad is of the third. He ran, he ran from what he saw and he's been running ever since. He flunked his classes because he was stubborn and went against the laws and traditions of his people; he saw them for what they were. Pompous old arrogant bastards who lorded over all of creation when they could have stopped countless wars, saved countless worlds…He was not allowed to get a TARDIS…But, but one day he saw an old Type 40 being hauled off to be decommissioned, killed I should say because all TARDIS are, were, sentient, and he stole her. Or," Harry gave a dry chuckle, "If you ask her, she stole him. She calls him her little thief…" he stopped laughing, eyes heavy with pain, "He wandered the universe, healing people, healing worlds, picking up his title, The Doctor…He picked up assistants from time to time but his kind grew angry with him and so they forced his death and then exiled him…But," he spat angrily, "Oh, they called him back when they had use for him. And then cast him aside again and again…until the War. Until they forced him to commit genocide against his own people. His family, his friends, all gone for the good of the universe…Now, now he stormed the universe, taking a hard line with evil…until he came upon a young shop-girl on 21st century Earth…"
Harry smiled, "At all of Nineteen Earth years my mother, the pink and yellow human girl Rose Tyler, saved the broken and lonely Time Lord. She took his hand and she ran with him. Brushing off his brusque manner and angry lashing outs. She showed him compassion, she showed him acceptance. She took his wounds and set to healing them. She loved him as no other had in a very long time. And then she did something so amazing and so terrible to save him…"
"What?" Hermione whispered breathlessly , hanging on every word.
"This pink and yellow human swallowed the Vortex, became one with the last TARDIS, became The Bad Wolf all to save The Doctor and she did…" Harry's voice dropped off slowly, "She was to sacrifice her life for his…" Harry smiled though, a sad smile, "But he saved her. No human could handle that power, neither could a Time Lord but he had extra lives. He pulled it from her, regenerated for her. And then, then she shocked him again. Most companions who have gone through a regeneration leave him, the idea that when he dies he can change his face, reboot himself being far too alien for them. But Mum, Mum stayed. She stayed and she again took his hand and they ran…Until…Until one day they were torn apart, she out of his reach in a parallel universe. The Walls separating them, mocking them…He grew dark again, angry, hurting. He picked up two more companions, my Aunt Martha and Aunt Donna. He was living but only because his body wouldn't let him die…during this time he gained and lost a clone daughter, my sister Jenny. He also managed to save my mad Uncle from himself. But the universe wasn't done yet…The stars were going out…"
"What?" Hermione squeaked, looking up at the sky to see that the stars were still there.
"Reality was breaking down," Harry said simply, "History unraveling; an old enemy was up to no good. He was determined to destroy all of reality…but Mum got back to my Dad, she had been jumping universes to warn him. Together they and friends, other former companions, defeated the enemy. However, during this adventure Aunt Donna became a Time Lady and she and Dad both gained a clone-son between them...and that's the story, until my biological Mother called for help, she was the granddaughter of a former companion so she could send an emergency sequence. Dad and Mum saved me, turned me into a Time Lord to save me…And then we found Jenny again, alive and well, it's been pretty calm since then…."
"What is your family doing then?"
Harry grinned, "Jenny's off to University on New Earth, circa 48th century…My brother, the other clone child, Brion, is working with his mother and our Uncle Jack for Torchwood Three, Cardiff, Wales circa twenty-twelve. They're waiting for their TARDISes to be grown and ready for adventure. My mad Uncle, The Master and his wife Lucy are also on New Earth circa 48th century for mental help…My Aunt Martha and Uncle Mickey also work for Torchwood Three. My Grandpa Wilf, Aunt Donna's Grandfather, is an amateur astronomer. Aunt Donna's mother, my Grandmother, is a temp and a bitch… " he smiled, "Mum and Dad are still traveling, they'll pop back for me when the year's through."
He was staring at the stars again, mouthing words as his eyes scanned the sky. It was clear where he wanted to be, back with his family, sailing between suns and planets. His mind was clearly already there.
"You miss it." She said.
"I've been on the move my whole life," he replied, "Never in one place for so long. Hopping here and there, helping as needed…My Aunt Martha says my family has the biggest case of wanderlust in the universe…But I need to be here, to learn and train with my magic…"
"You miss it."
"My hearts pulse with the flow and ebb of time, my hearts sing with the music of the Universe. Every chord and note… Each night I went to sleep to the crooning of the TARDIS, every morning I woke to adventure. Our arrival on any planet was a boon and a punishment. The Son of the Storm, they called me, the Wolf's Cub. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, helped too in some cases; I've circled nebulae and I've circled Black Holes. The Universe was my playground and my friend. ..Oh, it's completely terrifying and so so exciting…"
He turned to her suddenly, eyes dark and stormy, "I can let you hear it all Hermione…but you have to trust me…"
She did not hesitant in telling him, "I will always trust you Harry Potter. With my life."
He smiled a wide, manic smile, and placed his hands to her temples, breathing, "Let me in…"
Suddenly she found herself in her mindscape, with Harry.
"Impressive." He told her; her mind was a great library, everything and every memory filed properly. However there was a new item, a blue door carved with swirls. Harry took her hand, gave her a smile, and said, "Run!"
And so they did, through the blue door and down a corridor. She did not know how long they ran from her mind but suddenly they came to a balcony. It was overlooking a thousand different orchestras and choirs, each waiting for some cue.
"Where are we?" she asked breathlessly.
"My mind, or at least a part of it," he replied softly, "The full mind would drive you mad, if not kill you…Hermione, do you know what makes the Universe tick?"
"No."
"Maths, mathematical equations. Do you realize what music is made of?"
"Sounds and notes. Arranged into coherent patterns…"
"Math, Hermione. Maths at its' purest forms is music. That's why the Universe sings, it's beautiful maths in motion. Everything that has existed, exists, and will exists sings and it's the most gorgeous of music…This is what a single blade of Earth grass sounds like…" he nodded and one of the bands began a soft, slow song of low notes. Achingly slow as it grew. Violins and fiddles played it.
"A tree." Another band began, a similar song to the Song of the Grass, but it was even slower and at an even lower pitch. It was mostly the drums although there was a cello mixed.
"What you sound like." She leant forward eagerly as a third band began. Her song was slow, soft, and methodical but there was an undercurrent of greatness not yet reached. It was the sound of knowledge and learning, of books and tomes. But then it picked up, becoming fierce and hard as it went, eager and happy. At first the winds and violins played, but the drums and the brass joined in as the tempo quickened and the volume grew.
"Hedwig," the fourth band began, light and high, flitting over the notes and using mostly just the wind section.
"The entire Earth…" the entire group of orchestras started, and it was grand and swelling; she could hear the songs of the grass and the tree and her own mixed in, but there was so much more. So much beauty and life being celebrated. The choirs joined in, singing in every language known to man and woman, the sounds and words mixing. Deep down Hermione knew, tears sprung to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks in great waves, knew without a doubt that the Earth sang this song daily. It was glorious and heartbreaking and life-affirming.
It tapered off, slowing into silence. More orchestras materialized, fully set up and waiting for their cues.
"Me." This melody was chaotic, as if it couldn't or wouldn't settle, stick to a single melody.
"My father," if Harry was chaotic, he had nothing on the sound of his father. Wild and unsettled but steady and calm,
"Gal—" he stumbled over the word, pained, "Gallifrey, my father's world…' The melody was ancient and wise and very very peaceful. Majestic. But it began to build to a chaotic mess of brass and drums and anger and war. It became so harsh, so loud that Hermione covered her ears instinctively. The choirs followed, starting out in a beautiful musical language but then growing harsher. It became unbearable, horrifying, but she couldn't get away; she was trapped in Harry's mind…and then suddenly, it was silent. Unnervingly, chillingly silent and she nearly wept at the loss that imposed itself upon her heart. Gallifrey was gone, he had told her before but if they heard the music of the universe…That silence, it broke her heart that that's all they heard of their ancestral home.
Suddenly they were apart, in the physical world again and she found tears running down her cheeks. She looked up to Harry, wanting to say something, anything, but she found him sobbing in a musical language and all she could do was hug him as he did so…
He had known that this was coming, a three day weekend that was to be dark and very stormy. So he rented a large ballroom, paying a good sum of gold to Hogwarts, and rented a few House-elves to lay down carpeting and function as staff for the weekend.
The carpet they put down was very soft, very thick. It was a soft pink color, being neutral to all Houses, and easy on the eyes. Next came the various bits of furniture; plush armchairs, soft sofas, rainbows of bean bag chairs, small and large square and circle side tables, several large tables with benches and chairs. Lamps and lanterns were placed here and there, hung from walls and the ceiling, burning a multitude of differently colored lights. Bookshelves came next, tall and short, stout and wide they were placed against walls and each other, bolted to the floors and walls with elf magic. Thick curtains were used to dress the windows, left open but with the option of tying them shut block the lightning that would soon flash. Several fireplaces appeared, gifts from Hogwarts herself, and they were lit easily, the flames merrily crackling and heating the room.
Calming and patient portraits were moved and hung in the room, ready to aid the students. The shelves were lined with books of both magical and muggle origins, ready to be read. Board games were piled upon some of the larger tables, waiting to be used. Crayons and markers and paper waited for use too
On another table were ever full, ever heated pots of hot cocoa, coffee, and various brands and flavors of tea, with ever full dishes of sugars and spices, an ever filling, large basin, with several dozens of tongs accompanying it, of marshmallows of all sizes, and an ever full, ever-chilled keg of milk. Racks of butter-beers and racks of mugs and cups hung from a wall and another few ever-full kegs, this time of Pumpkin Juice, sat beside them.
On another table sat an ever chilled platter of various chocolate sweets, next to several boxes of graham crackers and dozens of long forks and tongs. Several coolers were dotting the rooms, ever chilled and full of bottled waters and muggle juice boxes and pouches.
The ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and stormy, despite the real sky being blue and sunny, and lightning flashed with great booming thunder as the great oaken doors were forced opened and back with an ominous thud.
Harry Potter stormed in, green eyes nearly black with blue flames dancing within them. His magic was palpable. With calm, measured steps he walked to the Ravenclaw table, demanding, 'Who did it?"
His voice was dark and ancient, power that made even Dumbledore step back in fear.
The Ravenclaws cowered, shaking and trembling under his gaze.
"Who did it?" gold power began condensing in his palms, "Who hurt Luna Lovegood. Tell me or I will turn every Ravenclaw here into squibs…"
That pronouncement drew gasps from most but someone found their voice to protest, "Impossible! Nobody can take magic!"
Harry laughed darkly, moving his palms against each other and then pulling them apart to from a ball of golden energy, "I am the son of the Sealer of Gallifrey, the Destroyer of Worlds, The Oncoming Storm. From him I inherit the powers of a Time Lord, physics bend to my will should I so wish it. I can bend reality should I so wish it. I am the son of Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf. From her I inherit the control of the fabric of time and space. My will is done. My commands followed." He spoke calmly, stating simple fact, growing the ball in his hands, "I am the son of the Potters, James and Lily. The most powerful wizard and witch in their class. My Merlin Index is already the level of an adult fifty years my senior. Magic which I can infuse with the Vortex…"
He felt it, radiating off her. Suddenly he was serious.
"Hand it over Hermione," he ordered, face of stone and voice of granite.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stuttered, not meeting his eyes.
He leaned close, whispering in her ear, "You've a time-travel device. Nothing special really, can only go backwards and only in units of hours. But unless you are an agent of UNIT, Torchwood, the Time Agency, or my family you shouldn't have it." She shivered as his breath hit her ear, a blush spreading over her cheeks.
He leaned back, crossing his arms and waiting.
She squeaked out, "It's a Time-turner Harry, on loan from the Ministry."
Muttering what sounded like "incompetent baboons masquerading as people" he closed his eyes and relaxed.
She was dying. Dying in agony. By poison with no antidote. Her skin was pale, showing off her now sickly green bulging veins as she writhed. Sweat drenched her form as her body tried to fight the inevitable.
She was dying…He made a snap decision.
'Har-Harry?" she whimpered as he approached her bed.
He leaned close, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, asking, "Do you trust me Hermione?"
"For-forever."
"Close your eyes then."
She did as told, trusting him to ease her pain. She didn't realize he was going to die for her. She would later, once she woke up to a different face on the boy she loved. She would ream him later, when she was able to sit up without dizziness and vomiting and he was back in control of his body, calling him crazy and stupid and he-shouldn't-have-wasted-a-life-in-saving-her-beca use-she-was-no-one-special. And he would look at her fondly, with strange yet familiar bright blue eyes large and open and truthful, and say that he didn't know of a better way to die than saving the girl he loved. And she would gasp and forget her fury, her guilt, and merely curl up in his lap and cry. He would hold her close, whispering in his dead, beautiful language just how important she was to him and to never, ever scare him like that again and how worlds would burn so he could protect her.
But for now he took both her hands in his, beginning to hum with the power of the Vortex, and leaned forward and kissed her deeply. He drew the toxins from her body into his, ignoring the fires of regeneration as they erupted. No, he pushed them down, bottled them away. Still they licked and slashed at him.
Once sure he had saved her he pushed away from her, going to his hands and knees as he began suffering seizures. His eyes closed and he mentally said goodbye to this body, the one he was born in and the only one that connected him to the Potters. He began to glow, softly at first but then it grew brighter and brighter until he burst into starlight with a scream of sheer agony. He landed on the floor, only semi-conscious as he gulped great heaving breaths and felt for the first time his own double-beating hearts.
His muscles still seizing, his blood racing as things set to rights. He was hungry, so hungry now. Steven threw him an energy drink, the type Jack used upon revival, and Harry chugged it. It was quickly followed by a half-dozen more before Harry was set. They wouldn't replace food, he did need to eat soon, but it bought him some energy he needed right then. He tried standing up, only to have his knees give out.
Steven and Amy caught him, arm over each set of shoulders, and began making him walk. He didn't quite have control over this new body yet so he was rather jerky but he managed with their aid.
They met on a battlefield, smoke blotting out the setting sun and blurring the hues of the sky together. Harry was astride Ginger, a sword strapped to the saddle.
Voldemort had his army behind him, thousands strong a mass of black. Giants flanked them, carrying a gigantic club each.
Voldemort sneered, 'My, my; Harry Potter all alone, abandoned by his friends…Come to die…"
Harry smiled benignly, "I'm never alone."
Suddenly Hermione rode up on Snowbell, "He has me."
Neville appeared on his horse, Cobalt, 'Me too."
Amy came next on Scarlett, "And me."
Steven showed up, mounted upon Lassie, "Never miss a fight."
Draco joined them, astride Knuckles, "Count me in!"
"Us too!' a large crowd advanced to the conflict, made up of Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. The teachers were with them.
"House-elfs help too!" hundreds of House-Elves appeared.
"Can't go fergetting 'bout me," Hagrid joined, wielding a large sliver war hammer.
From the forest emerged the entire Centaur herd, followed by Threstrals, "We stand with Harry Potter." Firenze announced.
Multiple whooping, wheezing sounds started as four police boxes arrived. The doors opened and people began pouring out.
"Torchwood would never stay out of a battle," Jack Harkness as the Torchwood battalion drew their firearms.
"UNIT wouldn't either." The Brigadier rumbled as UNIT operatives streamed from another box, weapons primed for action already.
"Companionship is for life." Martha said as she, Mickey, Jackie, and Pete carried out Uzi.
"Never will be too old to stop evil," Sarah Jane joined the scene, armed with a simple rifle and dressed in an ammo belt. The rest of the companions were similarly attired and armed.
"Affirmative Mistress!" K9 agreed.
"Never did like war though." Wilfred came next, armed. After him came a squadron of war veterans.
"Cats have nine lives anyways, what use are they if we don't use them?" Luis came along, leading a merry band of warrior-cats.
"Same for the Time Lords," Jenny joined, carrying a rapid fire, semi-automatic gun.
"Touch my nephew and die." The Master hissed as he appeared. He looked particularly unhinged and was armed to the teeth.
Mighty roars shook the ground as the sun was blocked by an incoming grouping of dragons and their riders.
One landed, revealing Luna, "Sorry we're late, Padua here got turned around…Ended up following a river…"
"Can you die?" she asked suddenly, having long became used to his double throbbing pulses and wondering just how alien he really was.
Instantly the light, carefree face he often had to force fell completely. 'Yes."
"You can?"
"Thirteen times over."
She found him set up on the Quidditch Pitch, targets, both stationary and mobile, set up . With fluid movements he strung arrow after arrow, letting them fly.