[FINALLY MORE WEASLEY]

Chapter 17

"Dumbledore, sir?" asked Rory hesitantly.

"Yes, my boy?"

Rory stifled a laugh. He wasn't about to get into an explanation of how he came to be over two thousand years old. He cleared his throat, looked around at the others in the Headmaster's office, and said, "Well, sir…I couldn't help noticing your ring. It bears the mark of the Deathly Hallows."

"I thought this was the Peverell coat of arms," replied Dumbledore, lifting the translucent grey stone into the light and inspecting it closely.

"Yes, sir, but the original meaning of the symbol has been largely lost …except to incredibly geeky scholars like myself, who live to pore over ancient fairy tales."

Dumbledore locked eyes with Rory, who continued, "If that's the Stone of Resurrection, and your wand is the Elder Wand…well, combined with Harry's cloak…one could be the Master of Death."

He glanced at Amy, and seeing she was totally baffled, explained, "A person worthy of uniting all three Deathly Hallows…very powerful magical objects…becomes the Master of Death."

"Well done! Fifty points to Hufflepuff!" cried Dumbledore.

"Um…what?"

"You are very perceptive, young man. Indeed, I do intend to give these items to Harry, when he requires them."

"And…when will that be?"

"After we've destroyed the horcruxes."

"Horcruxes, plural?"

"Someone please tell me what a horcrux is," said Ron.

Harry Potter stepped into the room. "Ah, excellent timing. Did the lesson go well?" asked Dumbledore.

"Actually, yes," said Harry. "I think I've got it, now."

"Where is Professor Snape?"

"He was called away."

Harry rubbed his left forearm, recalling the ache he had shared when Snape had been summoned by the Dark Mark, interrupting their lesson. Harry couldn't convince him not to return to Voldemort. He knew it was in his best interest that Snape continue to spy, but their reconciliation had changed how he felt about the man.

"Everyone have a seat, and we'll all get on the same page," said Dumbledore, retrieving a large book from a cabinet and placing it on his desk. "'Secrets of the Darkest Art,'" read Hermione, tilting her head.

M looked up self-consciously. "Darkest?"

The Headmaster nodded gravely. "The creation of a horcrux is considered the foulest act of dark magic. Those with weak stomachs should probably take this opportunity to leave."

M again blushed with shame that only increased exponentially as Dumbledore filled them in on the grisly details. His disgrace gained a note of rage when he learned that the only way to destroy the horcrux was to damage the vessel beyond repair. I let him defile my TARDIS, he thought.

"You didn't know what you were doing," whispered the Doctor, as if reading his mind.

"That doesn't make it all right."

The Doctor was slightly unnerved by the wild look in M's eyes, and the fact that he was biting his lip again. "Would you like another calming potion? The healer said you can have one every few hours until you start to feel better."

M considered this for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. The Doctor nodded, despite his increasing concern. He didn't want to treat his friend as if he were sick, but he didn't like seeing him in distress, either. "I've got one in my pocket if you need," he continued.

"Okay," replied M, forcing a smile.

The Doctor turned to the group. "At least we know about one of the horcruxes. The TARDIS should respond to our homing beacon."

"Is it truly indestructible?" asked Dumbledore.

"Nearly. There are ways to destroy a TARDIS…all of them highly unpleasant…but there are ways."

"Well, that's good news. We've already dealt with three horcruxes so far…Professor Quirrell, Tom Riddle's diary and this, Marvolo Gaunt's ring. Harry, remember when you accompanied me earlier in the summer to persuade Horace Slughorn to take a teaching post at Hogwarts this term? I believe he has knowledge that can help us find the other horcruxes."

"I have an idea," said Amy. "Why don't we pop to the future and see if you've found these horcruxes, then bring them all back here? What do you think, Doctor? Any fixed points lurking around?"

"Other than those two getting married…" he said, gesturing at Hermione and Ron, who suddenly seemed to have been Stunned, "…I think we're in the clear. As far as I can tell, there's no reason it shouldn't work. But to protect wizard and witch timelines, only the experienced time travelers should go."

The Doctor clapped once, excitedly, then leapt from his chair. M stood up beside him, then swooned and nearly upended the tea table. The Doctor caught him before he hit the floor, and helped him regain his footing. M blinked several times and said, "Thanks."

He then turned to the wizards and witches, and continued, "Thank you all for your help. I'm sorry I gave my TARDIS to Voldemort…but I swear I'll fix my mistake."

The Doctor smiled at the group and said, "See you in a few minutes and also in a year or two. Please try not to die, if you can avoid it."

Supporting M by the elbow, he strode out of the room.

Harry squinted, confused. "Don't think about it. I die all the time. It's no big deal," said Rory, taking Amy's hand and following after the Time Lords.

"Help yourself to whatever's in the wardrobe," said the Doctor, gesturing at M's tattered sweatshirt.

"Um, where would that be?"

"Through there, three corridors to the left, past the pool."

M lingered for a moment, then looked timidly at Amy and Rory. "I'm sorry if I caused you trouble."

"It's okay," said Amy.

"Bygones," said Rory.

M headed down the passageway. "Why can't he accept that it was the drums that made him mad?" Amy asked the Doctor.

"He knows they did, but they were a part of him for so long, it's going to take time for him to separate his real personality from the brainwashed identity."

The Doctor frowned. "What is it?" asked Amy.

"If only I'd helped him sooner, so much suffering could've been prevented."

"You're here for him now. That was an incredibly generous thing you did for him."

"Generous would've been giving up all my regenerations, like River did when I was dying. This wasn't just for him…it was for me, too."

"Right. Now that you're not the only Time Lord, and he's finally willing and able to be your companion, you must be happy."

He looked away, guilty. "It's all right," Amy continued. "You're allowed to be happy. We're happy for you, even if it means you don't need us anymore. We had talked about, y'know, stopping."

The Doctor ran over to Amy and Rory, and rested a hand on each of their shoulders. "I do need you, Ponds. We've just made a new friend, is all."

He returned to the controls, scanning for energy fluctuations and contemplating how far into the future they should go. Rory said quietly, "He's being pretty nonchalant about this. I mean, deep and pure love, Amy…enough to bring someone back from the dead. That's not exactly casual."

"No, it's not. He's probably just afraid that things will get screwed up, so he's trying to play down how lucky he feels."

"But you can see it in his face."

"I know. Adorable, isn't it?"

M caught his reflection in the mirror, and started. His hair was a deep auburn. His face had changed, too. Still brown-eyed, still fair complected, but with a longer nose that had a discernable bump at the bridge. It wasn't an ugly face –everything looked symmetrical and in the proper place– but it would take getting used to. The body was slighter than the previous one, but no taller. His trousers rode low on his hipbones, and the black hoodie hung loose over his chest. Only the trainers seemed too tight. He threw everything off and rummaged through the racks of clothes. What the Doctor referred to as a wardrobe was more like a walk-in closet stuffed with costumes from every imaginable period of history. M searched until he found the more reasonable selections. He paused when his hand brushed by a blue pinstripe suit, but he was sure that the sleeves would be too long. Finally, he settled on a white button-down shirt, a gray jacket, jeans, and a pair of cordovan shoes. He turned to leave, and promptly collapsed.

"I know you've got a lot of clothes to choose from, but it's taking him a really long time. What if he fainted and drowned in the pool or something?" asked Amy.

The Doctor looked up at her, stricken, then took off running. "Are you trying to terrify him?" asked Rory.

Amy shrugged. "I'm a mum. We worry."

The Doctor sprinted to the wardrobe, breathing hard. M was passed out on the floor, expression peaceful. The Doctor shook him gently and called his name, but there was no response; he was in a deep, recuperative coma. The Doctor picked him up and carried him through a short hallway into his bedroom, surprised by how light he was. "When you wake up, we're getting pizza and root beer floats."

He lay him down on the bed and took off his jacket and shoes, then arranged the covers around the sleeping man. He rose and dimmed the lights. "No locked doors this time."

He paused by the hatch and added, "I'm glad you're here. Please, don't leave."

The first thing they saw when they opened the TARDIS doors was a half-demolished Hogwarts. All of the wards had fallen, and they walked in through the front gates, which were hanging open. It was eerily still and quiet. Suddenly, a voice called out from far above. "Doctor! Rory! Amy!"

They looked up to see a figure on a broom hurtling towards them from a high tower of the castle. Harry Potter landed a few feet away and said, "Good to see you."

His face managed to look both solemn and content. He certainly appeared two years older. "Good to see you, too. What happened?" asked the Doctor.

"Voldemort is gone. You're looking at the aftermath of the final battle. It happened a month and a half ago, but I've been waiting here, for you."

"Ah...I should've mentioned that you didn't have to do that. We could've traced you anywhere on the planet."

"No, I wanted to wait. I wanted to be alone. Lots of people died, Doctor. Lots of good people, who were my friends…and they died because of me, or rather, because of Voldemort's fixation on me. We found all the horcruxes and destroyed them. It turned out that I was also a horcrux. I tried not to die…but I had to, so I did, and I then I came back to life. You were right, Rory, it wasn't a big deal. Voldemort killed the part of his soul that was in me, because I was the master of the Elder Wand, but Voldemort thought it belonged to him."

"Sorry, what?" asked the Doctor.

Harry smiled and sighed. "No, I'm sorry. Here," he said, pulling a thick roll of parchment from his pocket. "It's all in here, the horcruxes and what we had to do to find and destroy them. How I came to be the Master of Death, in order to defeat Voldemort. And a list of those who died."

The Doctor took the scroll. "You understand that if I show this to your past self, it could re-write time in unpredictable ways."

"Yes…but it's a long list of names."

"We'll do our best."

"Thank you. Um…there's one thing that bothers me. The red time machine…after Voldemort was defeated, it just vanished. If it contains a piece of his soul, there's a chance he could return someday."

"If it had been destroyed, I would know. I'll find it and take care of it."

Harry sighed with relief. "If you don't mind, I'd really like to go to the Burrow now, and let everyone know I met you. By the way, Hermione and Ron have been discussing marriage a lot lately."

"Well, they ought to be…their wedding is in six months."

Harry's jaw dropped in amazement. "Thanks again, Doctor. Amy, Rory."

Harry looked around. 'Is your friend still with you?"

"He's sleeping off the regeneration, in the TARDIS."

"Oh, right. For you, that only happened a few minutes ago. Rory, your family misses you a lot."

"Don't worry, we'll be back in time for your sixteenth birthday."

Harry squinted, then shook his head. "Shouldn't I remember that?"

"You will, in a few days. I mean, unless this timeline splits off into a parallel universe, or ceases to exist. Seriously, d-"

"Don't think about it. I remember. All right. Well…goodbye. See you soon."

"Would you like a ride?" asked the Doctor.

"Nah, I'll just Apparate."

Harry waved, gripped his Firebolt Mark Two tightly, and vanished.

Back inside the TARDIS, the Doctor pulled out the list of names and separated it from the rest of the scroll. He glanced at it quickly, then neatly folded it and put it in his jacket pocket. Then he scanned for the red TARDIS. "She's nowhere in the universe. But she didn't explode, so…ah, ha! Oh, how clever! I've just traced her last coordinates. She flew back into the time-locked dimension, sealing the tear and its mirror-tear behind her, trapping that piece of Voldemort forever."

"But if the tears have sealed, doesn't that mean we can't get home?" asked Rory.

"Nah, they're still there in the past…there's a large enough window to get back through."

The Doctor was beaming. "We can win this one."