| Home | Most Recent | Categories | Authors | Titles | Help | Search | Log In | |
| Ninth Doctor | |
Harry Potter and the Lord of Time by themonkeycabal [Reviews - 5]  Author's Notes: This is a gift fic, written for greenet who requested a Ninth Doctor/Harry Potter/Stargate:Atlantis crossover. | |
The warning went out late on a wintery October evening, a desperate call that traveled faster than the bitter gales could blow it, and long before the sun rose to force its way through the heavy, snow-filled skies, dozens of men and women had been roused from their warm beds. Meetings were had all through the blustery night, messages spirited back and forth from offices and homes and pubs across the land. By mid-morning the winter storm had passed and the sky was clear and bright. Unfortunately, the warning of the night before had not passed, and the crisp cheer of the day was shadowed by a terrible dread.
And as such things go in the world in these dark days, that dread was centered around one boy.
Harry Potter was more aware of the dark things that crept through the world than most people his age. On his eleventh birthday he'd discovered something extraordinary about himself -- he was a wizard. Unfortunately for Harry, while he discovered the magnificent world of magic, it all came at a terrible price, and with dreadful answers to questions he'd never known he had.
As an infant his parents had been cruelly murdered by a dark wizard whose name left even the strong shuddering in fear, he'd then been given into the questionable care of his magic-hating, muggle aunt and uncle, neither of whom could stand the sight of Harry, and, to add insult to injury, the wizard who'd killed his parents, who tried to kill Harry in turn, and who most had thought had died in the attack himself, had returned. And to all of that, there were the innumerable attempts on his life, various magical accidents, and the horrendously bad luck he tended to experience with annoying regularity. You might say, that at fifteen, Harry was just a bit jaded.
So, knowledgeable as he was, had Harry known of this new dread surrounding him, he probably would have sighed and shrugged and maybe looked for something, or somebody, to hex. And, in fact, if there was any possibility of it getting him out of his homework, he might very well have welcomed the trouble. The least evil could do once in a while is get a fellow out of having to write twenty inches of parchment on the fifteen uses of chicken feet in divination.
However, since he was unaware of the approaching darkness, Harry's thoughts weren't filled with dread for his life, that fine, bright, promise-filled morning, they were filled instead with dread for his next class, Potions, and for his friend Ron's showing in the next Quidditch match, and filled with wondering if there was some way to turn his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher into a small turnip without it getting him expelled. The very last thing he truly expected (and given his life, he wouldn't be surprised by much) as he walked through the courtyard of Hogwarts, his wizarding school, was to hear a strange whining howl, and to observe the rather remarkable appearance of a large, blue box not ten meters in front of him.
Harry stopped dead and blinked twice at the sight. Behind him, one of his best friends, Hermione Granger, a clever girl, gifted with the remarkable ability to walk around with her nose in a book without running into anything, ran into Harry's back.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione huffed irritably and bent to retrieve her book from the snow drift it had tumbled into when she collided with Harry's back.
"There's a blue box," he told her, sounding rather dazed.
"A what? Harry, you're not making any--"
Harry turned around and grabbed Hermione's robes, tugging her up next to him. She let out a squeak at his sudden move, and dropped her book into the drift again. She was just drawing in a large breath to tell him off, when she noticed he was pointing emphatically. Following his arm, she gasped at the strange blue box.
"What is that?"
"A blue box," Harry told her.
"You know what I meant," she said snappishly. "How'd it get here?"
"It just appeared. Just now. Can you apparate a big, blue box?"
Hermione raised a hand and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "You cannot apparate inside the grounds of Hogwarts," she told him tightly, and for roughly the seventy-ninth time in five years. He was catching up on Ron, to whom she'd recited that piece of information at least one hundred and twenty-one times in five years.
"Then explain the blue box, which just ... appeared." Harry waved one hand vaguely in the air, still staring at the box.
"It's a telephone box," Hermione said, pursing her lips and studying the object.
"I know it's a telephone box, Hermione. That doesn't explain how it got here."
Just then, the door of the box opened and a tall man with close-cropped hair, dressed all in black, stepped out. He squinted up at the painfully blue sky and took a deep breath, letting it out with a wide smile.
"Fantastic morning," he said happily. Looking around he caught sight of Harry and Hermione, and his smile turned into an almost frightening grin. "Hello."
"Er," Harry replied smartly.
Hermione, not quite as dumbstruck as Harry, and more cognizant of the potential threat this strangeness could represent, pulled out her wand and was trying to tug Harry back away from the man and his box.
"Who are you?" Hermione asked with a great deal of suspicion.
"I'm the Doctor," he told her as if that explained everything.
In fact, it explained nothing, and there wasn't much that Hermione hated more than not knowing something. She bristled at the man while she tried to push the still-staring Harry behind her with one arm.
"Hermione, stop it," Harry hissed, trying to swat her away. She pulled her eyes off the strange man long enough to give her friend an impatient glare. He really could be astonishingly dense where his own personal safety was concerned. Between him and Ron, Hermione wondered at the fact that she hadn't had a complete nervous breakdown yet.
"Doctor!" Hermione and Harry both jumped at the sudden arrival of Hogwarts' Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He clattered down the steps behind them, his robes flapping around his legs and his long, white beard flying up over his shoulder as he sprinted over to greet the man.
"Albus! Nice to see you."
"I can't thank you enough for coming." Dumbledore reached the Doctor and the two men warmly shook hands.
"Think nothing of it. Always happy to help." The Doctor clapped Dumbledore on the shoulder in a rather brotherly fashion.
"Nevertheless, I know it's short notice."
The Doctor laughed. "What's short notice to me? Besides, she's been whittering on about coming back to England for a week. I ought to thank you, you're saving me from having to suffer through tea with her mother."
"Ah, a new companion?"
"Yeah, this is--" The Doctor frowned then glanced back over his shoulder. With a great sigh, he stepped back to his box and stuck his head in the door. "Oi! Rose! Today!" He pulled his head out and turned back to Dumbledore, rolling his eyes as he did.
A brief moment later a young women with long blonde hair and an alarmingly multi-hued scarf stepped out behind him. "I couldn't find my coat," she told the Doctor tartly. "I had to go to the wardrobe, but apparently, the TARDIS thinks great, ugly circus tents are in fashion."
"I see you found your coat, though," he replied, nodding to the denim jacket she wore.
"Found it in your room. Any reason why it'd be there? You haven't taken to nicking my things, have you?"
"'Course not," he said, affronted. "No idea why it was there. TARDIS is probably having you on."
"Wish she'd leave off messing with me for a bit, it's got to be your turn by now."
The Doctor smirked and put his hand on her shoulder, pulling her up next to him in front of Dumbledore.
"Albus Dumbledore, meet Rose Tyler. Rose, Professor Dumbledore."
Smiling, Rose held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Professor."
"Lovely to meet you, Miss Tyler." Dumbledore shook her hand as warmly as he'd shaken the Doctor's, and he fairly beamed down at her as he did. "It's rather brisk out, can I interest the two of you in some tea?"
"That'd be great," the Doctor agreed and Rose nodded happily, rubbing her hands together against the bitter chill.
Turning to lead the strange pair inside, Dumbledore finally caught sight of Harry and Hermione standing nearby in the ankle-deep snow.
"There you are, Harry," he boomed, sounding quite delighted. "Perhaps you and Miss Granger would care to join us for tea? The kitchen sent up some delightful little cakes today. Poppyseed."
Harry, still trying to puzzle out the blue box, simply nodded. Hermione, however, was torn.
"Sir, we've got Potions next."
"Oh, I think Professor Snape can spare you," he told her with a tired smile. "In fact, I believe I'll send for Mr. Weasley to join us, as well."
***
Twenty minutes later Harry, Hermione, and Ron Weasley, were sitting in overstuffed chairs in front of a crackling fire in Professor Dumbledore's study. Each had a cup of tea in hand, and a small plate of cakes. Behind them, the Doctor was poking happily around Dumbledore's collection of magical instruments, and Rose was gently stroking the Headmaster's phoenix, Fawkes, who preened happily under her fingers. Dumbledore himself had disappeared just minutes after he'd tucked them all in his study, and he had yet to return.
Harry craned his head around the high wings of his chair, and watched the Doctor. He must be some sort of wizard, but he didn't look like any wizard Harry'd ever seen. He supposed that the blue box might not be all that strange; Ron's father had had an enchanted Ford Anglia for a while, after all. But he just didn't look like a wizard, he wore muggle clothes, for one, and so did the girl with him. And he seemed to take in everything in Dumbledore's office with a near child-like delight, but not with a great deal of recognition.
The Doctor looked up from a small mirror suspended by thin gold wires over a finely-carved ivory plate, and caught Harry's eye. The man smiled at him, and in his eyes Harry could see a kindness and understanding that made him almost uncomfortable. He'd never get used to strangers knowing more about him than he did himself. Sitting back in his chair, he contemplated a cake, picking the small red berries out of it.
"Who is that bloke?" Ron asked after a minute, and for roughly the twelfth time.
"He just says he's the Doctor and that's all we've heard," Hermione told him in a whisper.
"Mind you, I'm not complaining 'bout anything that'll get us out of class with Snape. You should've seen the look he gave me when he was told Dumbledore wanted to see me. But, what do they want with us?"
"I expect it has something to do with Harry."
Ron gave her an eloquent look that told her that while she may think he was rather dim, he was not actually a complete moron. "Really? You don't say. What would anybody want with Harry?"
Harry frowned sourly and continued to pull his cake apart.
"Well, if you're so very clever, Ronald, I wonder why you keep asking me," Hermione snapped and took a large, angry gulp of her tea.
The trio fell into a sullen silence. Ron set about consuming his cakes with great fervor, Hermione hid her face behind her teacup, taking sip after sip, and Harry, having reduced one cake to a pile of crumbs, set to work on a second cake.
A few long minutes later, Professor Dumbledore returned with the head of Gryffindor house, Professor McGonagall. Professor McGonagall gave them a stern looking over as she entered, as if she expected that they'd got into some mischief in the Headmaster's study, and once satisfied that they were up to nothing more than tea, she turned to greet the Doctor almost as warmly as Dumbledore had.
"Doctor, I'm sorry to have called you out on such a day."
"Ah, Minerva, you lot really have to stop apologizing. Never a bother, and you know I don't get to stop in your world near often enough."
"Well, thank you, Doctor. Perhaps, then, we'd best get down to business," she said with her characteristic brusqueness, though after five years, Harry knew well enough to tell when that brusqueness hid worry.
"Excellent."
"I wish I could offer you the hospitality of Hogwarts for more than a few hours," Dumbledore told him, "but time is short for all of us, more so for myself, I fear. The Ministry won't tolerate me here for much longer." His voice was light, and even amused.
"Always did like the rebels," the Doctor said with a laugh. "So, you've got a problem with time, I'm your man."
"That's exactly what we hope." Dumbledore turned to the three friends who were watching the interactions over the tops of their chairs. "Miss Granger, you recall your experiences with the time turner?"
Hermione gaped for a moment, surprised on being called on so suddenly, but she recovered quickly. "Yes, sir."
"And you understand the great danger of such an object."
"I do, sir. Awful things have happened to wizards who've worked or meddled in time."
"Quite correct. There are only a handful of time turners in existence."
"Good thing, too," the Doctor muttered, then caught the curious eyes of his companion. "They send you back in time. I destroyed quite a few a while back, but the Ministry of Magic insisted on hanging on to some. Great, fat lot of bureaucratic idiots."
"Hm, yes, well," Dumbledore coughed. Harry suspected he was hiding a smile. "We've had word from the Order of the Phoenix that one of them has disappeared from the Ministry. We fear that Lord Voldemort may have his hands on it now, or will soon enough. So, you see, our time may be dependent on whims of a particularly evil man."
The Doctor nodded gravely and leaned back against a serpentine chest of drawers, arms crossed over his chest. "You want me to find it?"
"No, actually, I fear that the damage may have already begun. We have several members of the Order tracking it now, and I have a much larger task to request of you." Dumbledore nodded again in Hermione's direction. "Have you ever heard of the Time Lord, Miss Granger?"
"I ..." She stopped, confounded for a moment by not having the answer readily to hand. Her brows drew down in a frown as she thought. "Yes, sir," she said triumphantly. "Symballine Chronallous mentioned the Time Lord in her book Great Temporal Catastrophes of Wales and Other Blunders." Ron rolled his eyes as she rattled off the title and slouched down in his chair, nicking a cake off her plate as he did. "Supposedly, he could move through time however he liked. Could even change it. It's been suggested that the Troll Rampages of 1294 were caused in part by a wizard who brought back a troll army from the future and it was only ended when the Time Lord stepped in."
"You know," said the Doctor thoughtfully. "I've got a lot of patience for a lot of people, but Trolls ... I've never met a bunch with such lousy humor, and that includes the monks of Saint V'raz the Eater of Livers. At least the monks made decent beer."
Hermione, ever the champion of misunderstood magical creatures everywhere -- though, she quietly admitted that she could well do without ever meeting a troll again -- gave the Doctor a rather dark glare. He smiled back sunnily. "Professor Binns seems to believe that the Time Lord is little more than a myth, sir."
"Ah, well, Professor Binns, for all that he himself is no longer tangible, does have a small difficulty with the intangible," Dumbledore told her evenly. "My good friend the Doctor, here, goes by many names, some of them you may have come across in your studies without ever knowing it, but, you do seem to be familiar with him as the Time Lord."
"That's not possible. He'd have to be over eight hundred-years old, and there are no more philosopher's stones," Hermione exclaimed.
"Nine hundred, actually," the Doctor informed her, tapping his chest. "Or, thereabouts. And your logic's a bit faulty, isn't it? I mean, being a time traveler, me, it's not like I was stuck in 1294, is it?" Hermione blinked at him and closed her mouth with a loud click.
"The Doctor is not from our little planet," Dumbledore explained with great patience.
Ron, who's head had reappeared over the back of his chair, and had himself been gawping at the Doctor at the pronouncement of his age, slid wide eyes over to the Doctor's companion, who was studying one of the portraits on the Headmaster's wall. The portrait seemed to enjoy the attention and was busily grooming his beard, preening as much as Fawkes had been earlier.
Rose, realizing she was being stared at, glanced over at Ron. Holding up her hands, she shook her head. "Oh, not me, I'm from London."
Dumbledore walked over to a tall glass cabinet and pulled out a heavy, rather gaudy-looking, tarnished gold pendent, set with a roundish, rough cut, very ugly stone of aquamarine. "Harry, come here, please."
Sitting up reluctantly, Harry put his destroyed cakes down on the table in front of the fire and absently brushed the crumbs from his fingers. Would it really be so difficult, he wondered, for somebody to, just once, come straight out and say 'here's the problem, here's what we're going to do', without the strange half-conversations and history lessons? Not that the Time Lord didn't have the potential to be really fascinating, but, he was just so very sick of the never knowing.
Harry crossed the room to Dumbledore, trying to ignore Professor McGonagall's silent fretting and the Doctor's cool, unreadable gaze. "Sir?"
"I want you to take this, Harry," he said, holding out the pendant by its long, thing chain, "and hold on to it until you see either myself or Professor McGonagall again."
"Why, sir?" He asked, as Dumbledore dropped the heavy object into the palm of his hand.
"I am going to turn you over into the care of the Doctor for a time. When I, or Professor McGonagall, have determined the time turner no longer poses a threat, we will summon you. Wherever you are, and more specifically whenever you are, we'll be able to contact you through this stone."
"But, why, sir? Why am I being sent away?" Harry's voice rose in childish petulance. While he knew they were concerned for him, he was tired of, yet again, being sat out of things, like some delicate china pot they were afraid might break.
"Potter, mind your tone," Professor McGonagall chided him sternly.
Dumbledore waved her off, and, with a sigh, placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Because, Harry, I do not know what Lord Voldemort may be attempting, but I can make an educated guess. And while I hope I am not correct, I hope even more strongly that I have not disastrously miscalculated. The Doctor can take you out of the time-stream, keep you safe from whatever Voldemort may do to time here. If something goes terribly wrong, the Doctor may be able to fix it. I think you'll agree that we'd all prefer things not come to the uncertainty of that, but the best way to assure at least one thing does not come to possibly irreparable harm, is to take you safely away to where Voldemort's twisting through time cannot harm you."
"I understand," Harry muttered, still staring down at the pendant in his hand.
"I suspect you're just saying that to please me; well, Harry, I hope you realize it gives me no pleasure to have one of my students under such constant threat. Nor does it give me pleasure to keep you from your studies. Nevertheless, I will do what I must to keep you safe, however you might dislike it." Harry chanced a look up at Dumbledore and tried not to flinch away from the intense gaze.
"Yes, sir."
"Thank you, Harry." He slid an arm around Harry's shoulder and steered him over in front of the Doctor. "It might help for you to look at this as an adventure. There aren't many who'll ever get to travel around with the Time Lord. I've only ever been to Cornwall in 935, myself." The Doctor chuckled softly and nodded his head. "And, for as much trouble as finds the three of you together, I think much more might find you when you're separated, so I'll be allowing Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to join you." He smiled over at the pair. "If they wish."
"'Course we do," Ron exclaimed with a fierce shout. Catching himself, and the warning glare McGonagall sent his way, he blushed. "Sorry, Professor, I mean, yeah, I'd like to go with the Doctor."
"Me, as well, Professor," Hermione said as confidently as she could, though the existence of the Time Lord, and perhaps his comment on her logic, seemed to have shaken her somewhat, and her voice wavered slightly.
The Doctor uncrossed his arms and clapped his hands together loudly. "Fantastic." He glanced back to his companion, a shockingly wide grin on his face. "This'll be fun."
***
"I believe we should further investigate '941, the ruins were--"
"The ruins were a boring waste of time."
Monday morning, the city of Atlantis, Pegasus Galaxy. The start of week meetings with the heads of the various departments that made up Earth's Atlantis expedition, were not going smoothly on this particular Monday morning. Doctor Rodney McKay, chief scientist of the expedition, was, for reasons unknown to everybody else, determined to make the head of each science department cry before they left the conference room. Colonel John Sheppard, the commander of Atlantis' military forces, had returned just the day before from a harrowing mission that left him bruised, exhausted, and nursing a minor concussion. Doctor Elizabeth Weir, head of the expedition itself, spent a late night going over paperwork from Earth, and woke that morning feeling the edges of a migraine creeping across her skull, and only a handful of pain pills and a copious quantity of coffee were keeping the threatening headache at bay -- barely.
"They were not. They were fascinating." The head of the Anthropology department was looking slightly shellshocked by McKay's abrupt dismissal of her suggestion.
"The entire planet is a waste of time," Rodney reiterated. "Does it have food? No. Does it have technology? No. Does it have a current civilization? No. Does it have the barest hint of Ancient anything? No." Rodney raised his hand, forestalling more comments from the other scientist. "I can hear you now, 'but, Doctor McKay, some mysterious lower primate species on the planet stacked a bunch of stone blocks on top of each other, quite possibly because they thought it would look a lot like the tree they called home. I think we should waste as much manpower and as many resources as possible studying the exact formation of the block structures, because we really think it might be a breakthrough in our understanding of why trees are tall.' A pointless waste of time and resources," he concluded firmly, tossing the file folder to the center of the table where it slid to a stop in front of Elizabeth.
Elizabeth picked up the folder and gave a small smile to the anthropologist, whose face was slowly purpling as she glared at McKay. "Thank you, Dr. Lee, I'll go over your recommendations for '941 and get back to you this afternoon."
McKay snorted and whispered in a slightly sing-song mocking tone, "Waste of ti-ime".
"And thank you, Dr. McKay, your opinions on the mission have also been noted," Elizabeth told him sharply, and Sheppard, slouched wearily in his chair, snickered.
Doctor Lee pushed herself out of her chair with some force, sending the chair thudding against the wall of the conference room. Nodding to Elizabeth and Sheppard, she shot one last bitter glare at McKay and fled the room.
McKay chuckled and tapped his fingers on the table. "She'll probably go back to the lab and cry."
"You're an absolute prick, McKay," Sheppard told him through a yawn.
Elizabeth sighed and rubbed at her forehead firmly, trying in vain to push back the looming headache. "Gentlemen."
Yawning again, Sheppard sat up, wincing as he did so, the bandage on his ribs pulling painfully at bruised flesh. "Who's next?"
Elizabeth ran her finger down the morning's agenda. "It looks like Doctor--" A whining, grinding hum began to fill the room, interrupting her. She looked sharply at McKay, whose brows were drawn down in a confused frown.
"What the hell is that?" Sheppard exclaimed, shoving out of his chair, spinning around. There, on the far side of the room, a strange outline had begun to appear with the hum. A blue box with a pulsing light on top. Sheppard called for security while Elizabeth and McKay got to their feet as well.
"Does that say Police Box?" Sheppard asked, sliding his eyes over to McKay without actually turning his head away from this new threat.
"Uh ... yeah," McKay replied, staring at the strange object, perplexed.
"Thoughts?"
"Well, it's blue."
"That's why they pay you the big bucks, Rodney."
Before McKay could come up with a suitably vicious retort, the door to the box opened and a tall man in a black leather jacket stepped out. "Here we are, Atlantis. City of the Ancients. We'll find my friend--" He stopped and took in the people staring back at him, and the appearance of the armed marines at the doors, pointing large guns at him. "I seem to be off a bit."
Behind him, four teenagers appeared. The eldest, a blonde girl in a pink t-shirt and blue jeans, sighed. "How far off?"
"Good question," the man replied brightly. He looked back at the Atlantians. "Hello. Mind telling me the time? Or, more specifically, the year?"
McKay had recovered from his shock first, and waved a hand at the newcomers. "What are you? The pied-piper of kiddy land?"
The blonde girl's eyebrow shot up and she gave him a frosty, considering sort of glance. "That would make you, what? The elf Father Christmas kicked out of his workshop?"
Despite the inherent threat of strangers appearing out of nowhere in the middle of their conference room, Sheppard couldn't quite stifle his laughter. The man in black looked equally amused.
Elizabeth, who'd had more than enough of allowing the strangeness to continue unquestioned, held up her hands and pointed a finger at the man. "Who are you? And how did you get here?"
"I'm the Doctor, this is Rose Tyler." He put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "And these three? They're just having a little holiday. You are?"
"Not amused."
The Doctor grinned broadly and crossed his arms. "I can see that. So, year?"
"2005," Sheppard told him. "How'd you get here?"
Rose smiled up at the Doctor. "Only missed it by 24,000 years, Doctor. Give or take."
Giving the girl a slightly sour look, the Doctor stepped back and put a hand on the side of the blue box, patting it affectionately. "This is my ship."
"It's a blue box. What the hell kind of ship is that?" McKay asked skeptically.
"It's disguised, and it's called the TARDIS," Rose told him tartly, obviously not taking to the scientist. "Time and Relative Dimension in Space."
"A time machine?" Sheppard asked quickly.
The Doctor nodded, looking almost impressed. "Clever." He stepped away from his ship and looked at the three younger teenagers. "2005. Sort of a problem." Then he shook his head and patted one of the boys on the shoulder. "Nah. It'll be fine." Turning back around he nodded to Elizabeth. "Don't suppose my friends and I could take a look 'round your city? I haven't been here for ... well, few thousand years relative time. Nearly three hundred for me. I sort of promised them the sights," he said, the last in a stage whisper.
"I really don't think that's going to be possible," Elizabeth told him, still baffled, and now becoming increasingly annoyed as things remained murky while the moments passed.
"Alright, then. Don't supposed you'd tell the blokes with the guns that shooting kids is bad for the conscience?"
Elizabeth and Sheppard shared a look, each confused and slightly alarmed, but Sheppard wasn't feeling a particular threat from this bunch. It paid to be cautious, but ...
Sheppard turned to the tense marines, each just as boggled by the blue box, and waved his hand, motioning them to lower their weapons. "Wait outside," he ordered.
McKay, still slightly stung by the elf remark, was uncharacteristically quiet as he busily looked over each of the new arrivals with the searching eye of a scientist looking at a suspicious specimen. Blonde girl, guy in black, lanky red-headed boy, girl with a frizzy mass of hair and a book in one hand, boy with insane hair. Boy with insane dark hair. Boy with insane dark hair and green eyes. McKay blinked twice and glanced over at Sheppard. Man with insane dark hair and green eyes.
"Are you--?" He pointed back and forth between the boy and Sheppard.
Catching the gesture, Sheppard gave McKay a quizzical look. "What?"
"You ... and that kid ..." McKay shook his head and stared the kid down. "What's your name?"
The boy's eyes narrowed and he glanced over at the Doctor, then back at McKay. "Harry Potter."
"You're British?"
"Yes," he replied carefully.
"How old are you?"
"Fifteen," Harry replied, his lips thinning with some irritation of his own, clearly not liking McKay's abrupt interrogation style.
McKay ignored the irritation and turned on Sheppard. "Where were you fifteen years ago?"
"McKay!"
"Well?"
"Not in England," Sheppard bit out through gritted teeth.
"Huh," McKay replied, not sounding like he entirely believed Sheppard. "Maybe it's contagious. Like ... like SARS or ebola."
Sheppard frowned and glanced at the kid, trying to see what McKay was seeing. When realization dawned, he snarled slightly and raised a hand to try and smooth his own wild hair. "It's just hair, Rodney."
"Not like you'd have much to worry 'bout if it was contagious," Rose snarked lightly, gifting McKay with a sweet smile.
The red-haired boy guffawed loudly, and Sheppard couldn't help but laugh again himself. McKay scowled darkly.
The Doctor, strange and intense grin back on his face, strode forward and pulled out a chair, dropping down to sit at the conference table.
"So, you lot gonna introduce yourselves, or what?" He poked at McKay's computer. "You're not Ancients, human by the looks of you. Love to know what you're doing in their city."
"You know the--" Elizabeth started, then stopped herself. Eyeing the Doctor closely, she gingerly took her seat again. "I think we need to back up. You got here in a time machine."
"That's right," the Doctor said with an indulgent smile. "Goes through space, too. Anywhere, anywhen."
"And you knew the Ancients?"
"Long time ago. Sort of boring, but nice enough. Did a decent fry-up."
"And you're human?"
"Nope." The grin just never did go away, did it? Elizabeth couldn't tell if she found it unsettling or infuriating. It was possibly worse than Sheppard's permanent smirk. "Well, the lot with me are, but me? Nope. Now it's your turn." The smile remained, but his gaze sharpened, and Elizabeth found herself sitting back, moving slightly away from him.
"I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir, that's Colonel John Sheppard and Dr. Rodney McKay. We are a scientific and exploratory mission from Earth."
The Doctor stared at her for a moment then sat up suddenly and snapped his fingers. "The Atlantis Expedition. Can't believe I forgot you lot were here now. Got a lot of stuff up here, you know." He tapped his forehead. "Easy to lose track of little bits sometimes."
Rose, standing behind the Doctor, snickered and rubbed at his head in a fond gesture. Behind her, the younger teenagers were gathered together in a whispering knot, and the redhead rolled his eyes and said softly, "Told you he was mental." Unfortunately, his voice wasn't low enough, and the Doctor craned his head around to look at the boy, who responded by ducking his head and blushing furiously.
Any further questions were cut off when both Elizabeth and Sheppard's comms came alive, relaying a confused and desperate warning. Sensors had picked up a Wraith hive ship far too close to Atlantis for comfort.
Elizabeth stood quickly and pointed at the Doctor and then his box. "You need to leave now."
"What's wrong?" the Doctor asked in such a way, forceful, demanding, his voice hard and alert, that Elizabeth found herself responding.
"We have enemies out here. They think we're dead, which is one of the few things keeping this city safe. However, we've just detected one of their ships nearby. If they discover us--"
The Doctor was out of his chair like a shot, and out of the room before anybody but Rose could react. As soon as he'd stood she'd been at his heels. Sheppard sprinted out of the room after them, calling off the marines who'd raised their weapons as the strangers stormed out of the room. Rodney followed next, at a run.
Elizabeth hesitated, looking at the three teenagers. "Maybe you'd better go back into your ship."
"Not our ship," said the redhead. She'd really have to get their names.
The girl elbowed him, and smiled uncertainly at Elizabeth. "Please, Doctor Weir, the Doctor, he's supposed to look after us, and he gets a little ..."
"Narky?" the redhead suggested.
"Uncomfortable," the girl pronounced firmly with a glare at the boy. "If we're in the control room without him or Rose."
"That's only 'cause Ron can't seem to stop himself pushing all the buttons," Harry spoke up, a weak smile on his face.
"I just did it once," Ron exclaimed, reddening again.
"And the heating stopped working properly for two days," the girl pointed out smugly.
"Alright, alright," Elizabeth held up her hands and closed her eyes, feeling the headache finally take hold. "You'll need to stay close but also stay out of the way. And I'll be having a few words with your Doctor."
***
When Harry and his friends stepped into the city's control room, Harry caught sight of Rose and the Doctor huddled around one of the computers. Doctor McKay lurked behind them, a dark and unhappy presence.
"Wraith," the Doctor muttered darkly. "I do remember them."
Rose leaned closer to the monitor, reading the words the Doctor tapped with one long finger. "Who are they?"
"Space vampires. Suck your life force. Nasty. They spend thousands of years destroying human settlements in this galaxy."
"Can we do something?"
He glanced up from the monitor and smiled at her. "Yeah, I think we can."
"Space vampires?" Hermione asked, more interested in what the Doctor was doing than in their new surroundings.
Next to Harry, Ron was gaping at the computers, lights, cables, and various gadgets that filled the city's control room. Harry had to admit it was incredibly impressive. He was so used to the magical world now, that he'd started to forget the world of muggle technology. Though, this looked a lot more like the sort of thing he'd see in one of those sci-fi movies his cousin Dudley was always watching, rather than something you generally saw around town.
"Oh, it's you lot," the Doctor said absently. "You should've gone back inside the TARDIS."
Hermione cast a furtive glance in Ron's direction. "Sir, you don't like it when we're--"
"That's right," the Time Lord muttered, turning around to face them. "Ron, don't push any buttons."
Ron's mouth shut with a click and his face fell into a sullen frown. "Well, I wouldn't do, would I?"
Rose seemed to take pity on Ron, offering him a gentle smile. "Don't worry about it, Ron. You didn't mean to do it."
"He meant to push the button," the Doctor argued. "You've got to really reach for that one. Not like you're just lolling about and accidentally lean on it or something."
"He didn't mean to break the heating. He doesn't know this world, yeah? He won't do it again. Be nice," she chided. He sniffed and turned back to his monitor.
Harry was inching forward slowly, wanting to get a look at what they were finding so fascinating, when Colonel Sheppard brushed by him, bumping him enough that he had to take a step backwards to keep himself from stumbling. The Colonel's hand shot out and caught him by the shoulder.
"Sorry, buddy," the Colonel gave him a fleeting smile, made sure he was steady on his feet, and then was off again to the other side of the room.
Looking back towards the Doctor, Harry saw Weir watching him, her face set in grim lines. She stepped over to the Doctor.
"Doctor, they really shouldn't be in this room," she said tightly.
The Doctor glanced over his shoulder at Harry and his friends. "They're not doing anything. Just keep Ron away from--"
"It was only the once!" Ron exclaimed.
The Doctor grinned at him and turned back to Weir. "You've got bigger problems than them."
"Yes, we do," Weir agreed. "And we have work to do and we can't do it if you're in the way."
"So, tell me," the Doctor said conversationally. "How you planning on getting rid of this hive ship? Got a big plan? Got a big ship? Got a big bomb?"
Weir's face hardened and she crossed her arms. "That's really not any of your business."
"Everything's my business, Doctor Weir." He stood up abruptly and crossed over to a large screen at the back of the room. The screen seemed to be tracking the progress of the enemy ship, though Harry couldn't suss out some of the strange symbols and numbers. "In less than twelve hours this ship'll be in range, and they'll know you're here. Then what?"
The Colonel was watching the Doctor, and he glanced over at Weir with a shrug. "You've got a suggestion?"
"Yep. Watch these three for a couple of hours. Keep them out of trouble."
"And that'll stop the Wraith how?" Weir asked, sounding deeply annoyed and frustrated. It was much the same tone Hermione used when she thought he and Ron were about to run off and do something stupid, or when they skived off their homework.
"Won't, but it'll free me and Rose to go take care of them." He smiled at Rose, a hesitant sort of smile Harry hadn't seen in the week or so they'd been traveling with him. Hesitant wasn't a word that usually went with anything the Doctor did. "Be easier to stop than a Dalek."
"You know I'm game," she told him, smiling back confidently.
"Always knew I picked right."
Harry and Ron exchanged skeptical looks at the Doctor's rather soppy tone. Hermione caught the look and rolled her eyes at the pair of them, muttering something under her breath that sounded like a exasperated condemnation of boys in general and he and Ron in particular.
"Well," the Doctor exclaimed loudly, his mood changing faster than one of McGonagall's transfigurations. "No time to waste, places to go, ships to blow up. We'll see you in a few hours."
"Wait, wait, you're just going to go destroy the ship," McKay pulled himself away from a technician he was hounding, "with a mouthy blonde and a blue box? Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"You want the full list or should we sum up?" the Doctor asked him.
"Hilarious. No, really, you're both charmingly witty. Do you, at least, want to tell us what to look for?"
"Look for the ship disappearing off your sensors there. It's really not that hard." The Doctor started out of the room, Rose following. "Back in a trice."
The control room fell silent, every pair of eyes in the place watching the Doctor and Rose as they disappeared, then they all turned to the command trio. McKay threw up his hands and stomped over to sit down at the computer station the Doctor'd been using. Sheppard scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it a bigger mess than it already had been. Harry sympathized. And, Doctor Weir just looked tired, her face was pinched, she had her eyes closed, and was obviously trying to take deep, steadying breaths. Harry glanced over at his two friends, both of whom were looking uncomfortable and uncertain.
Harry didn't really know how Rose did it. His life was pretty unpredictable, already, but a week with the Doctor was exhausting. Sure, they'd seem some amazing things, they'd been places he'd never expected to be, and he'd really enjoyed their trip to the third Quidditch World Cup, though, they'd only been able to stay for a few hours, but the Doctor's way of life seemed to be just to stumble from one bizarre mess to another without pause. Harry found himself suddenly longing for the regularity of his class schedule.
Doctor Weir roused herself enough to have one of the blue-clad soldiers take the three of them into her office. The room's glass walls allowed them to look down into part of the city or back over into the control room.
"What's that?" Hermione muttered, staring down into the large room below them.
Harry stepped up next to her. Below them, there was a huge, bronze colored ring, set upright into the floor. "Wow. No idea."
"It's a stargate," Colonel Sheppard stood in the doorway, watching them.
"A stargate, sir?"
"Yeah, it's a little complicated to explain, but basically it forms a stable wormhole between two points. There are stargates on hundreds of planets. They can connect with each other. Then you step through one to come out through the other."
"Sort of like floo powder?" Ron asked, coming over to stand next to Harry and Hermione to get his own look at the stargate.
"What's floo powder?"
Spending so much time with the Doctor, who seemed to know more about their world than they did, Harry'd almost forgotten they were among muggles again. "It's a sort of magic, Colonel. Um, you throw a pinch in the fire and say where you want to go and then step in, and it'll take you to the fire of the place you were wanting."
"Magic?"
"Yes, sir."
"Huh. You're magicians?"
"Wizards, sir."
"Okay, that's new. Never met a wizard. Interesting." The Colonel sounded a little bemused, but he wasn't dismissive or even particularly skeptical. Harry found he was starting to like the man a bit.
"Our sort don't usually interact with muggles much. Non-magic people, that is," Harry informed him.
"But you've obviously been around us some."
"Hermione's muggle-born, and I was raised by muggles. Ron comes from a wizarding family, so he's sort of new to all these computers and things."
"That explain his fascination with buttons?"
Ron glowered. "Right, that's just not funny anymore."
Sheppard chuckled and pushed himself off the door. "Sorry. So, can I get you kids something to eat? Something to drink? We're between shipments from Earth, so the food gets a little strange around here, but I can probably scrounge up something worth eating."
"No, sir, thank you," Hermione said politely.
Sheppard nodded. "Okay, I've gotta get back. Make yourselves comfortable, rearrange Elizabeth's furniture, steal her pen caps. You need anything, I'm right out there." He jerked his thumb at the control room.
"Wish I'd brought my wizard's chess," Ron said glumly after Sheppard disappeared. He dropped down onto the office's couch with a sigh. "If the Doctor's too long, this'll get dead boring."
"You could work on your charms, Ron. I'll even let you use my book to practice with," Hermione offered generously.
Ron didn't look like he found that such a fantastic suggestion, but after fifteen boring minutes had passed, he'd relented and was soon sending the book through its paces, while Hermione gave him a running commentary on his technique and suggestions on how he could improve it. He was trying to ignore her, but by the dark scowl on his face, it looked like he wasn't having much luck.
Harry, meanwhile, was looking at the various objects Dr. Weir had decorating her office, and glancing over papers on her desk, full of words on subjects he couldn't really grasp. Atlantis and everything about it seemed as alien and far removed from the muggle world as the wizarding world was.
"What are you doing?" It was obviously Dr. McKay's turn to check on them. He stood just inside the door, wide-eyed and staring as Ron sent the book flying across the room, bat wings sprouting from its spine. "Stop that! Stop that! What are you doing?" McKay snatched the book out of the air and held it at arms length while its wings flapped limply against the cover.
"I was just practicing," Ron said defensively.
Hermione jumped off the couch and ran over to take the book back from McKay. "I'm sorry, sir. He's been behind in his homework, so I thought we'd--"
"His what? His homework for what? What was that?"
"Magic, sir."
"There' s no such thing as magic," McKay scoffed, though he was still warily watching the flapping book.
Possibly drawn by Dr. McKay's shouts, Colonel Sheppard had entered the office behind him. He smirked at McKay. "Rodney, you go to work through a wormhole every day and fight space vampires. Don't you think there could possibly be magic?"
"What we do is science. Which happens to be real," McKay told him. "How sad that I have to remind you of that."
"And yet," Sheppard waved his hand at the book. "You just saw the book fly across the room and turn into a bat." He squinted at the book. "Sort of." Hermione tucked the book behind her back.
"I'm sure there's a rational explanation."
"Whatever, Rodney. Look, you're not exactly kid friendly. How 'bout if you go back to work."
"I'd love nothing more." Mckay turned on his heel, and with one last, suspicious glance at Ron, left the room.
"Ignore him. He's all bark."
Harry smiled. "It's alright, sir. He's not near as bad as my aunt and uncle."
"They're ... what did you call them? The non-magic people?"
"Muggles, sir. Yeah. My aunt and uncle hate magic."
"And what about your parents? Bet that hair drives your mom crazy. My mom spent every morning trying to get my cowlicks to behave. Never worked, but she never gave up."
"My parents are dead, sir," Harry said quietly. "They died when I was a baby."
"Sorry to hear that."
Harry shook it off and grinned at the Colonel. "But, yeah, my aunt hates my hair, too. Actually, there's not much about me they do like. 'Cept maybe when I'm not around." Harry wasn't sure why he was telling this bloke so much about himself, except that he seemed easy to talk to and didn't mind talking about magic, though, he himself was obviously a muggle.
Sheppard smiled at him, and Harry was both relieved and sad that it wasn't a smile of pity, but a smile of real understanding. Sad, in large part, because it meant that there was probably some part of the Colonel that knew what it was to be unwanted, and Harry wouldn't wish that on most anybody.
"Seems like you've got some pretty good friends here, though," Sheppard said, nodding to Ron and Hermione. "And, what's the deal with that Doctor guy?"
Hermione, never one to pass up the opportunity to share what she knew about most anything, spoke up, "He's called the Time Lord, sir. We're with him to keep ..." she trailed off and looked over at Harry. There were limits to how much she would share. "There's some trouble back home, and our Headmaster knows him, so the Professor asked the Doctor to look after us for a bit. Just until it's sorted."
Sheppard, watching her closely, no doubt noticed that she was leaving something out, but he seemed content to let it go. "So you've traveled in time?"
"Yeah, it's been brilliant," Ron exclaimed. "Well, except the four hours we spent in the place that smelled like a sewer and was decorated with rat heads."
"I've already written thirty inches on the day we spent in London during the Goblin Rebellion," Hermione said brightly. "It was absolutely fascinating."
Ron groaned and cast a baleful glare Hermione's direction. "How much more extra credit do you need, Hermione? You've already got top marks, it's not like they get more top."
"I think it's an interesting subject, Ron," she told him haughtily. "It's not about the extra credit."
"John." Doctor Weir ran across the bridge from the control room, calling out for the Colonel. "The hive ship just disappeared."
Sheppard straightened. "Looks like maybe your friend came through for us," he told Harry.
It was another twenty minutes before the TARDIS reappeared, this time showing up down in the room below the control center, just in front of the huge ring. The Doctor and Rose stepped out a few seconds later, rumpled and covered in grime and disturbing stains, but otherwise unharmed. Hand in hand, they climbed the broad steps up to the control room.
Harry and his friends, ignoring the blue-clad soldier at the door to Dr. Weir's office, dashed out of the room to meet them.
Dr. McKay, beating the trio to the Doctor, was standing at the entrance to the control room, blocking their way.
"How did you do it? What did you do?"
"You wouldn't understand," the Doctor told him wearily, trying to push past.
McKay was insistent, though, and moved over to block his way again. "Try me."
The Doctor glowered darkly and dropped Rose's hand to grab McKay by the arm, steering him over to a corner. "Fine, try and keep up, then."
Harry walked warily over to Rose, who looked just as tired as the Doctor. "Alright, Rose?"
She gave him a small smile. "We're okay. Big ship. Lots of running. Definitely easier than a Dalek, but there were loads more Wraith."
"What were they like?" Ron asked curiously, eyeing a tear in the sleeve of Rose's t-shirt.
"Ugly. Big. Bad breath. Space vampires, is about the best description. Be happy not to meet them again."
Harry glanced over to where the Doctor was talking quietly to McKay. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was clear that the Doctor'd been right, and McKay wasn't entirely understanding what he was being told. His irritated scowl faded into a puzzled frown and from there into thoughtful confusion. The Doctor ended his lecture with a, possibly unnecessarily, rough pat on McKay's shoulder.
"Suppose you'll figure it out eventually," he said and left the scientist to ponder whatever it is he'd been told.
Walking over to Harry, the Doctor held out his hand. Harry could see the thin chain of the pendent dangling from his fist. "Open your hand."
Doing as he was told, the Doctor dropped the pendant into his hand, the aquamarine stone glowing brightly. The Doctor wrapped his hand around Harry's and closed his eyes for a moment.
"I can go home now?"
"Yeah, just got to tell when to send you," the Doctor muttered. "It's tied to the time-stream from when you left. Send you back too early, the problem stays; send you back too late, you'll have more homework than you'll know what to do with." He offered a thin smile, eyes still closed.
Harry felt the stone grow warm in his hand, warm enough to be uncomfortable, and growing hotter. When it felt like he couldn't stand to hold on much longer, the Doctor let him go.
"That'll do it. Time to get you back."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"You're welcome, Harry," the Doctor said, his face uncharacteristically sober.
"So, you're leaving?" Colonel Sheppard stood nearby, leaning against a computer station.
The Doctor's mood changed again, quick as lightening, and he was grinning at the Colonel. "Yep. Had plenty of fun, bit of adventure, nice to meet you, but off we go."
"We can't offer you lunch or anything? I mean, you did just save our skins."
Rose laughed quietly and shook her head. "Happy to help."
"All part of the service," the Doctor agreed.
"Nice service," Sheppard said with a smirk. "End up here accidentally, destroy a Wraith ship, not even time for tea? Well, maybe scratch the tea; Elizabeth and Teyla have some brew that I'm pretty sure turns them evil, I don't want to test the theory, though."
Dr. Weir, who'd walked up in time to catch the last from Colonel Sheppard, gave him a frosty glance, then stuck out her hand to the Doctor. "I really can't thank you enough. I know we weren't particularly welcoming."
"Nah, I understand." He took her hand and gave it a firm, warm shake. "Not a worry. And this? This is what I do. Wouldn't want life to get boring, would we?"
"We could ... I'd be happy to show you around Atlantis before you go," Weir offered, a small self-effacing smile on her lips.
"Maybe Rose and I will come back, but now it's time to get this lot back home. Bit of a dangerous life, mine. Some minder I'd be if I got them hurt, and the longer they're with me, the more likely that is. I get enough of an earful from Rose's mum about that anyway."
"There's nothing we can do for you?"
"Just ... just keep exploring, keep learning. You're doing it right. One of the things I love about humans, always curious, always reaching out. You want to do anything for me, that's it."
Weir cocked her head to one side and studied the Doctor, a small smile playing on her lips. "I think we can manage that, Doctor."
"Fantastic."
"Have a safe journey, and you're always welcome here. All of you."
Sheppard pushed himself away from the computer station and nodded to the Doctor. "I'll walk you guys down to your ship."
***
John stared up at the strange blue box in his gateroom and smiled. One of the weirdest days of his life, and that was really saying something.
"Bigger on the inside, huh?"
"It's enormous," Ron pronounced. "Hermione got lost looking for the library. Took us nearly three hours to find her."
"The room moved, I swear it," Hermione said in a huff.
"Probably," the Doctor allowed. "The TARDIS rearranges stuff from time to time."
"And nicks things," Rose muttered darkly, though she patted the corner of the ship fondly.
"She only does that to you," the Doctor told her cheerily.
Laughing, John shook his head and reached out a hand to shake the Doctor's. "Well, Doctor, it's been truly bizarre."
"Hasn't it?" The Doctor grasped his hand firmly, then stepped closer to clap him on the shoulder. "Watch your head, Colonel, you've got lots to do yet."
John smirked a little uncertainly but nodded just the same. "Sure. Will do." Turning to the younger teens, John shook each of their hands in turn, saving Harry for last. "Good luck, Harry. I get the feeling you've got a lot on your plate." Harry shrugged and looked away from John. "Hey, us guys with vindictive cowlicks have to stick together. You ever need anything, any of you," he smiled at Ron and Hermione, "you can reach me through Peterson Air Force Base in Colorado Springs. Even if you just want to kick me a letter sometime. It'll get to me."
"Thanks, Colonel," Harry said softly. "I mean, really, thanks."
"No problem." John stepped back and gave them all another smile. "Doctor, Rose, hope you'll come back soon. Wouldn't mind a trip in that box of yours."
"Think you can handle it, Colonel?" The Doctor asked, raising his eyebrows comically.
"Maybe, maybe not. I've flown most everything at least once, but I still don't have any hours in a time traveling blue box."
"We'll see if we can't do something about that." The Doctor clapped his hands together, then waved the kids into the box. "In with you all. Places to go, time's a-wasting."
"See ya 'round, Colonel," Rose told him before she disappeared into the box, the Doctor following, shutting the door behind him.
The strange grinding howl started up, and within seconds the box had vanished, leaving behind a bemused and amused Colonel.
"That was interesting," Elizabeth said, coming up to stand next to him.
"I think the word you're looking for is 'surreal'," John told her with a smirk.
"I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to write my report on this. I'm half-afraid Earth's going to decide the stress has finally gotten to me and it's time to recall me," she laughed, crossing her arms while she stared thoughtfully at the stargate.
"Strange guy in a blue box shows up with four teenagers, hive ship shows up, strange guy and one of the teenagers attack hive ship with blue box, hive ship destroyed, strange guy and teenagers leave. I think I can even do it with bullet points. It'll look professional. Earth will be impressed."
Elizabeth shoved at his shoulder and snickered lightly. "They'll think we're suffering from some sort of mass-delusion. Something in the water, maybe. Well, at least Rodney thinks he got something out of it. The Doctor did something to the hive ship's engines, made them go critical. Some sort of temporal flux field. Whatever that means. Rodney's going to be lost to us while he figures it out."
"I should've kissed the Doctor before he left," John said wryly.
"I should've kissed him. We've still got to finish the morning's meetings, and with Rodney busy, I won't have anymore weeping scientists on my hands for at least another week. It'll be heaven."
"Meetings?" John whined. "Aw, Liz, can't we have a 'we survived another close encounter with the Wraith' holiday? I know where Zelenka moved his still."
"Tomorrow. And don't call me Liz, Shep."
"I like it when you call me Shep," he told her with a teasing leer. She rolled her eyes and started back across the room, up to the control center.
"Meetings, Colonel. Now."
"You're no fun, you know that, right?"
"I do. Move it, mister."
With one last look at the spot where the blue box had stood, John shook his head with a laugh, and resigned himself to meeting hell. It was a damn sight better than Wraith attack hell. "Thanks, Doc."
##
Script for this archive provided by eFiction. Contact our archivists at help@whofic.com. Please read our Terms of Service and Submission Guidelines.