Harry Potter, as he should have been.
The Doctor’s empty gaze swept over the inside of the TARDIS. Donna Noble, his last companion, was gone. He knew she’d never survive unless he left her behind. The Time Lord mental abilities she’d gained would have burned her mind out. But, all the same, he missed her.
Sighing, he spun a few dials. He needed a distraction. And if there was one thing the good people of Earth had mastered, it was distraction.
The TARDIS appeared in a small suburb in Little Winging. More specifically, in the back yard of Number 4, Privet Drive. The Doctor stepped out, looking around curiously. “Well, this is different.” He noted. “Usually, I’m in the middle of a war zone.”
When he looked back on it, he realized that voicing that opinion might have been a mistake.
A large man, wielding a shotgun, burst into the yard. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”
The Doctor blinked in surprise. “Sorry. Didn’t actually mean to land here. I was headed for Cardiff. Interesting things always seem to happen there.”
“Well then get back in your… your…”
“TARDIS.” The Doctor supplied.
The man blinked. “What?”
“It’s an acronym. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.”
Unexpectedly, a small boy ran outside, throwing himself in the man’s path. “Don’t hurt him, Uncle Vernon! He didn’t mean anything! Hurt me, if you want!”
The Doctor did something he didn’t do very often: His jaw dropped open in shock. This boy, who couldn’t have been more than three, was offering himself as a sacrifice to this… The Doctor couldn’t think of what to call him. If the boy reacted this way, then The Doctor wouldn’t insult the race by calling him human.
Vernon growled at the boy. “Get out of the way, freak!”
The Doctor put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Hold on. I’m going. And I’m taking him with me.”
Vernon’s eyes lit up. “Are you really? You’ve come to take him away?”
The Doctor nodded. “Yes. We’ll just be going.”
Vernon grinned widely. “Yes, yes, by all means! Go!”
The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS, ushering the boy inside. Quickly, he ran over to the console, and got them into the time vortex.
The boy was now looking at the floor. “You can drop me off anywhere, sir. I won’t burden you.”
The Doctor felt like hitting something right then. Whatever that… whatever-he-was had done to this boy, he obviously considered himself to be less than dirt. The Doctor knelt in front of the boy. “That’s not how I operate. I took you in, so I’ll hang on to you until you can look after yourself. Believe me, it’s no burden. I like having people around.” He grinned. “Now, since it’ll be awkward to call each other ‘Hey, you,’ let’s introduce ourselves. I’m The Doctor.”
“No, no. Just Doctor.”
“Oh. Well, I’m Harry. I don’t know my last name. The lady at the day care told me, but I forgot.”
“You mean your uncle never told you?”
“No. Until I went to day care, I thought my name was ‘freak.’ The lady said it’s Harry.”
The Doctor kept his breathing under tight control. “Alright, Harry. Do you mind if the TARDIS has a little poke around your mind? She can bring up the memory of your last name.”
Harry nodded. “Sure.” His eyes glazed over for a moment, then he shook himself. “Potter. I’m Harry Potter.”
Grinning, The Doctor held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Harry Potter.”
12 Years Later, June 1st
“Are you sure about this, Doctor?”
“Yes, Harry. It’s time you rejoined your people.” The Doctor gave his longest lasting companion a grin. “After a year, if you want to come back, you can. In fact, I’ll go forward a year as soon as you go. You won’t miss a thing, alright?”
Harry sighed. “Alright. Now, what year are we in?”
“1995, 12 years after you left. To the day. Now, you’ve got everything?”
Harry held up his sonic screwdriver. “Everything I could possibly need.”
“Right then! See you in twelve months!”
Waving good-bye, Harry left the TARDIS. He stepped out onto a cobblestone road. He knew from The Doctor that this place was called Diagon Alley. He hadn’t had much to do with the Wizarding world, at his own request, but The Doctor had a point. As much control as he had over his powers, he’d need professional training. First thing: Money.
The Doctor had informed him that he’d be able to access funds from the bank in the Alley. Harry assumed that The Doctor had set up an account at some point. He was usually pretty good about things like that.
As soon as he’d entered the building, a small creature appeared at his side. “Harry Potter?”
Harry looked down. “Yeah. What can I do for you?”
“We’ve been informed of your arrival. Follow me.”
Shrugging, Harry did as he was asked. He was led to a teller at the end of the long counter. The creature behind the desk looked up. “Ah, Mr. Potter. Excellent. I’ll require a drop of blood for you to access your vaults, since we were informed that you do not possess a key.”
Nodding, Harry held out his hand. The Goblin pricked his finger with a dagger, allowing a drop of blood to fall onto a piece of parchment. It glowed for a moment. The creature nodded, satisfied. “Good.” He passed Harry a bag. “This has direct access to your vaults. If you reach into the left pocket, you will pull out Wizard money. The right produces Muggle money.”
“Well, thanks! How much do I have?” Harry asked.
“A little over 100,000,000 Galleons.”
Many other Wizards would have fainted. Harry, however, simply nodded, and went on his way.
His next order of business was a wand. He didn’t really understand why he needed it, since he’d learned years ago how to use magic without one, but apparently it was the law. Strange.
He waltzed into a shop called ‘Ollivander’s.’ “Hello! Needing a wand here!”
And old man appeared, almost as if from nowhere. “Ah. Good morning. Needing a replacement?”
“Nope. Never had a wand. First time.” He looked around at the many shelves. “Did you know that your wands have a vibrational frequency?”
Ollivander blinked. “No… I didn’t.”
“Well, they do. Fascinating, really. Here…” Harry brought out the sonic screwdriver, and scanned his right arm. He started scanning the wands, until the screwdriver went into a high pitched whine. “And here we are!” He pulled the box down, and took the wand out. He waved it. The wind picked up, and he was surrounded by golden light.
Ollivander stuttered a bit. “Er… Uh… Right. That’ll be seven sickles…”
Grinning broadly, Harry paid, and went to his next stop: The Portkey station.
“Excuse me, I need a Portkey to Hogwarts, please.” Harry grinned at the man behind the counter. “As soon as possible.”
“Yes, of course, sir. Will you require a return trip as well?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The man handed him two crystals. “The blue one will trigger in 30 seconds. The green will activate when you tap it with your wand, and say ‘return.’ Upon said return, you will be charged two galleons.”
Harry nodded. “Thanks! See you when—” he was cut off as the Portkey activated.
“—I get back.” Harry looked around. He was in the entrance hall to a castle. “Oh. Never mind.”
“Greetings, young man. How can I help you?”
Harry turned to see an old man in purple robes approaching. He smiled in greeting. “Hello! I’m here to see about attending school.”
“I see. And your name?”
“Harry Potter, sir.”
The old man froze on the spot. “Excuse me? Could you repeat that?”
“When can you start?”
Harry blinked. “No interview? That’s a bit suspicious.”
Dumbledore gulped. “”Oh… Yes, I see how—”
Harry waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s a bit suspicious. Just part of how I think. Anyway, I can start at any time. I don’t have much in the way of plans, except for a bit of shopping I want to get done before the day’s out.”
“Excellent.” Dumbledore looked extremely relieved. “Can you be here at 7 AM tomorrow? Preferably with school robes, a cauldron, and potion supplies? We’ll provide your text books.”
Harry hesitated. “Well… I don’t have a place to stay. I had to leave my previous arrangements to come here.”
Nodding, Dumbledore took his necklace off. He tapped it with his wand, and muttered ‘Portus.’ He handed it to Harry. “When you’re ready, just hold it, and say ‘Hogwarts.’”
Harry nodded, and brought out the second crystal. “Return.” He vanished.
Dumbledore practically ran up to his office, making a floo call. “Cornelius, I think we might be saved!”
Once Harry returned to Diagon Alley, he got his robes, potions equipment, and a magic trunk, before heading to the Magical Menagerie.
On a trip to Reptilius 7, Harry discovered he had the ability to communicate with reptiles, even without the aid of the TARDIS. Since he knew he was allowed to have a pet at Hogwarts, he wanted one he’d be able to communicate with intelligently.
After a few moments of poking around, he found what he was looking for: A baby wyvern. “Oh, hello!” He slipped into what he called ‘lizard tongue.’ “Hi, there. Pleased to meet you. My name’s Harry.”
The wyvern’s head came up. “Greetings, Harry. My name is Slitheen. Are you here to buy me?”
“If you like. I won’t force you into anything.”
“Oh, I’d like. I’m sick of being in this terrarium. However, you need a special license, from what I’ve heard.”
“Don’t worry about that. Give me a minute.” He went up to the salesman, pulling out his psychic paper. “Excuse me. I’d like to buy that wyvern.”
The salesman sneered at him. “You’ll need a license.”
Harry held up his paper, focusing on it showing the proper license.
“Oh! Very well. That’ll be twenty galleons.”
Ten minutes later, Harry was walking down the street, Slitheen on his shoulder. “So, how’d you get the name Slitheen?”
“My dam encountered a large, bulbous creature that called itself that. She decided it was a good name.”
Harry snickered to himself. “Really? Quite a story. Say, can you hide yourself? I need to go into normal London.”
“Yes. I can go unnoticed.” Putting word to deed, Slitheen became invisible.
Harry grinned. “That’s handy, isn’t it?”
Heading through the Leaky Cauldron, the pair went into Muggle London.
Harry’s main reason for coming into this part of London was for a computer. He knew it wouldn’t be as good as the TARDIS, but he needed something.
It didn’t take long to find a good laptop. He asked for a few specific features, which were installed quickly, and he went out into an alley. He’d packed everything into his trunk, and was ready to go. He grabbed Dumbledore’s necklace. “Hogwarts.”
When Harry appeared in the entrance hall, he was surprised to find a large group there to greet him.
“Mister Potter!” An older man wearing a bowler hat strode forward. “I’m Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”
Harry kept his face impassive. He was holding off a reaction until he had the whole score. “Are you? Well, that’s interesting. And why are you here, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Well, for you, of course!” Fudge said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We thought you’d disappeared forever!”
“Uh… Huh. I can see how that would interest something like Child Protective Services, but you’re the head of government, right? How does it interest you?”
Fudge began to look uncomfortable, so he changed the subject. “Oh, Harry! This is Rita Skeeter! She’s here to do a piece on you for the Daily Prophet!”
Harry’s screwdriver was in his hand instantly. He aimed it at her photographer’s camera, causing smoke to come out of it. He took a deep breath. “Alright. I think that’s enough. Listen here. No one asked me if I want to be interviewed, no one asked if they could take my photograph, and you, Minister, haven’t answered my questions. I consider that to be quite rude.” His eyes fell on Dumbledore. “And the only way he could know that I’m here, is through you.”
Dumbledore nodded sadly. “Yes, I’m afraid you’re correct. For reasons that I will explain to you, I felt I should call Minister Fudge. The rest… Well, he arranged that.”
Harry regarded him for a moment, then nodded. “Right.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rita scribbling notes frantically. He smirked. “Slitheen. Torch it.”
Slitheen shimmered into their visual range, and blasted a fireball at Rita’s notepad.
Fudge’s eyes went wide. “You… You have a wyvern?”
“Clearly.” Harry replied dryly.
“Do you… have the proper paperwork?”
“Could I have bought her if I didn’t?”
“I… suppose not.”
‘That’s what you think.’ Harry thought to himself. Out loud, he cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, Professor, I need to unpack, and I’ve got a bit of a project I’m working on.”
“Yes, of course. Winky!” A small, green creature appeared. “Could you take Mr. Potter to a guest room?”
“Yes, Professor. Winky do.”
“Dumbledore, I must protest!” Fudge blustered. “The public has a right to know about him!”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “Really? The public has a right to invade my privacy? Sod that.”
Fudge, who by this point was losing track of his arguments, snarled at him. “Oh, be quiet!”
Harry’s face broke into an evil grin. “No. You be quiet.”
Fudge tried to retort, but he couldn’t. He opened his mouth, moved air through his vocal chords, manipulated his tongue and jaw correctly, but no sound came out.
“There. Much better. Alright, Winky. Let’s go.”
Once Harry got situated in his room, he pulled out his laptop. The Doctor, once they’d discovered Harry’s magic, had made a thorough study of it. He’d discovered that the magic put out a powerful EM field which, while having no effect on The Doctor’s technology, or the TARDIS herself, would render modern technology inoperable. So, Harry was taught how to use a sonic screwdriver to protect electronics from EM fields.
Harry unscrewed all the coverings, and set to work. While he was at it, he advanced the inner workings a bit, putting quantum circuits into the appropriate areas. When he was finished, he put it all back together, and booted it up.
As the screen came up, Harry grimaced. “Oh, hell. Windows. The one thing humanity never got right. That won’t do… I’ll have to get into the visual basic.”
There was a knock on the door. “Mr. Potter. May I come in?”
It was Dumbledore. “Sure thing, Professor.”
Dumbledore came in, and walked over, sitting on the bed. “I’d like to apologize again, Mr. Potter, for Cornelius’ actions. I tried to warn him against pressuring you so, but…”
“He’s a politician.” Harry finished, not bothering to look up from his coding efforts.
“Yes, quite. Now, you asked him why he took such an interest in your return…”
By the end of Dumbledore’s story, Harry was laughing uproariously.
“Harry, this is hardly a laughing matter. Voldemort returned in May, and we cannot combat him without you.”
“But that’s what’s so hilarious!” Harry chortled. “You’re hanging all your hopes on me! I mean, I can do it, sure, but if I’d stayed with my relatives, you’d all be screwed in the worst way.” His laughter quieted some. “Anyway, I guess it’s a good thing I was sent here now. Got to solve your problem before I can go home, after all. And knowing The Doctor like I do, it’ll take 365 days to do it.”
“The Doctor? Doctor who?”
“No, no. Just ‘The Doctor.’ Anyway, go on. I’ve got work to do.”
Dumbledore nodded, and got up to leave. Just as he got to the door, Harry stopped him. “Oh, just one more thing. How’s being homosexual going for you?”
Dumbledore whipped around. “How did you know that?”
“You just told me.” Harry grinned.
Dumbledore quickly made an exit. That boy was frightening…