Lost to time

A Doctor Who & Harry Potter Crossover fanfiction

MM Slash- but I'm not the best writer of explicitly so you've been warned. Doctor/Harry

AN- imagine Harry Potter canon happened century's before.

After lifetimes alone two lonely souls find each other, but what are two heroes to do when they both fear becoming involved.

Chapter 1

Harry stood, staring intently as the last of his generation was covered in dirt. Reading the headstone Harry felt his heart ache; 'Luna Scamander, happily returned the earth that gave her light'. Luna had been Harrys last link to life, his last true friend and the only person who had truly seen Harry for who he really was. Some had thought the airy blonde had been odd, a weirdo, but Harry knew now that she was, perhaps, the sanest person in the world. She just happened to see things that others didn't.

"Come on, Uncle Harry," prompted Rose Malfoy: Ron and Hermione's daughter, who had married Scorpius, the only son of Draco Malfoy. Looking around Harry saw that they were the last ones still standing around the grave, in a graveyard filled with his friends and family buried long ago. Even little Rosie looked ready to join them, her once illuminous Weasley red hair faded into grey and her face aged with lines. Not that Harry looked any better, but his age was a lie, a simple glamour used to make it so he could say goodbye to the last of his friends without questions and trouble.

Underneath that glamour, however, Harry Potter still looked as young and fit as the day he had defeated Voldemort, nearly 200 years ago.

Harry had first noticed something was wrong when he had been in his early 20's. After the final battle, he had done what had been expected of him. This being, he had gotten married to the girl, settled down and had became an Auror. It was during a raid when he and Ron, his partner and lifelong best friend, were attacked by a few remaining Voldemort supporters, that Harry had noticed that he had changed.

The battle was nearly over when Ron had cried out, distracting Harry as he turned instinctively to his first friend. He had not noticed the spell heading his way. He only noticed it when it hit, when the pain spread throughout his body and his life force began to be ebbed away.

However, instead of Heaven or Hell or even Kings Cross he had once appeared at, Harry went– well, the best explanation was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. When he opened his eyes Harry was greeted with a vast emptiness before a voice caught his attention.

"So, master, you have finally graced me with your presence," a voice, void of any inflection said.

Spinning Harry tried to see where the voice was coming from, who it was speaking, but the nothingness remained and he saw nothing.

"I don't understand… I'm dead," Harry said, his voice shaking slightly on the last word. He thought of Ginny, who had recently began to talk about starting a family. They had waited to have their own children, Ginny not wanting to take the time off as she was just starting out as a professional quidditch player.

Besides her, he thought of his friends, of everybody who he loved.

"Yes, but to you, to us, life and death are meaningless. You are my master and I am yours." The voice responded, and Harry finally realised it was coming from everywhere. The sound surrounded him in this empty place.

"So, I'm not dead?" Harry questioned, confused evident in his words.

"You shall never truly die as long as you are my master, Master," the voice told him from the nothingness.

Harry thought about this before he had a moment of clarity, an epiphany that had been delayed by his panic.

"You're Death, aren't you?" Harry asked cautiously. He was remembering the legend of the hallows and how the wand and stone had reappeared to him a week after the battle and kept doing so until he had finally had enough and placed them within his vault.

Suddenly the darkness lifted and Harry saw in front of him was Death. The image was how Harry had always depicted Death being; tall, almost formless, covered completely by a flowing black cloak and holding a scythe as tall as Harry himself.

"I am sometimes known as Death, but I have had many names thought the ages," Death explained.

Harry nodded absently, running his hand through his hair. He had grown it out recently in an attempt to tame it, an attempt which had worked quite well, although it would always have a wild look to it. The following silence Harry realised was deadening and Harry searched his mind for something else to say.

"So, the legend of the three hallows was true, and i'm the master of Death?" Harry asked, if only for clarification that this is what was really happening. Knowing his luck, it could just be another weird coincidence.

"Yes," Death said.

"But, couldn't I just give away the hallows and be free?" Harry asked, recognising that it was a fools hope but still wanting to know or sure.

Death remained silent for a few seconds before he replied with, "you are my master, my true master, and my master you shall always remain,"

"But… what about if somebody else was to claim all three? Surely I wouldn't be your master if that happened," Harry tried to reason, he didn't want to die, but he didn't want to be this… this thing!?

"Perhaps, but that happening is not something I can foresee," Death told him.

Harry sighed and resisted the urge to punch the wall in his frustration. Why couldn't he ever catch a break?!

"So, what does this mean, truly? Being your master?" he asked, resigned to his fate.

"It means you are are master, and with that you are like I: unchanging, immortal, a constant in a world of progress." Death said.

"I noticed I still looked young a while ago… will I not age?" He asked. He knew that wizards aged at a slower rate than muggles, but Harry had started began realise not too long ago that while his classmates had started to mature he still held a certain boyish quality.

"Age is just another sign of decay and death," Death spoke, confirming Harrys fear. Stuck at 17great.

"I see," Harry said, the implication of it finally hitting him. He would have to stand back and watch everybody he knew– everybody he loved grow old and die. His friends. The Weasleys. And, Merlin, even Ginny. Selfishly, he was relieved now that he hadn't had a chance to father a child with his young wife. He couldn't bear the thought of watching a child he sired grow old only to disappear from his life while he remained young.

"Will I meet you every time I… die?" Harry questioned.

"No," Death disagreed, "I shall see you when you need me but until then master, you are free."

Ironically Harry realised that he would never truly be free. He would never have the chance to gain that ultimate freedom. He was trapped, forever unchanging. Unable to re-join his friends and family in the next great adventure.

Realising this Harry closed his emerald green eyes to hide his pain.

"Harry!" The anguished voice of Ron drew Harry out of his pain, and slowly he sat up and looked around him. He was back in the abandoned warehouse he had been fighting the rouge wizards in.

Suddenly Harry was being crushed by an armful of crying redhead, "Merlin, Harry, you're alive! I thought– I thought you had d-died!" Ron wailed, pulling Harry closer, "I saw the spell hit, and I-" Ron cut himself off and hugged Harry closer.

Harry closed his eyes as he realised he as back and that he felt completely fine. In fact, he felt better than ever. "I'm okay Ron, I promise." Harry said, patting the tall redhead on the shoulder.

"How? I saw the spell hit! I saw you go down!" Ron exclaimed, finally drawing back.

Harry opened his mouth to answer but he found that the words were stuck in his throat. Eventually he sighed, before he made a vow to himself to talk to Ron, Hermione and Ginny together.

That conversation happened a week later. After the battle, Ron had insisted Harry go and see a healer. Said healer had cleared Harry immediately, citing he was in perfect health, much to Ron's relief and Harry's misery.

It had taken a week for Harry to work out how to tell the people that he loved the most about his new status. He feared for a moment their reactions but knew ultimately that it would be okay. Together they had taken down the ultimate evil. He had also invited Neville and Luna to the meeting, although he hadn't been as close to the duo in school the battle and re-building of their world had really brought them together.

"Harry, will you sit down and stop pacing!" an annoyed and 7 months pregnant Hermione demanded.

Harry sighed and turned to pace again. "I mean it mister, I may be pregnant but that doesn't mean I won't hex you!" the bushy haired witch threatened, brandishing her wand and pointing it at him.

Harry turned then and sat down, chuckling as Ron quickly fell into his role of doting husband and tried to calm the heavily pregnant witch.

"Why have you asked us here mate?" Neville asked, his voice richer than ever. Neville had aged well, his blonde hair and skin touched from all the time he spent in the sun and among the greenhouses at Hogwarts, and was something Harry couldn't help but notice.

Looking at his friends Harry couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the subtle changes in all of them. Ron had filled out and lost the gangly quality he had during their teenage years, Hermione had a softer look to her, and even Ginny had matured, the lines of childhood ebbed away leaving graceful muscle. Luna looked the least changed but Harry could see some subtle aging.

It was Luna who answered Neville's question instead of Harry. "He has met the one constant in his life and is now changed," she murmured, the dreamy voice coming out soft.

Everybody turned to the white-haired girl and frowned whilst Harry gaped, "I– Luna… how?" the emerald eyed, now-immortal wizard asked.

Luna sent Harry a dreamy smile. "The nargles of course," she stated, like the answer was obvious and, perhaps, Harry realised, it was.

Ginny however had had enough, she had been worried all week about her husband, especially after Ron told her about the incident at the warehouse. She could feel Harry pulling away and closing off. He had barley looked at her all week, let alone touched her. "What does she mean Harry, what constant?" she asked suspicious, but there was a hint of desperation in her voice Harry couldn't help but hear.

Harry pulled his shocked eyes away from Luna and turned to face Ginny. He really did love her but now he couldn't see a future with her in it– at least, not with him as her husband.

"I have to tell you something, tell you all something," Harry began, his voice soft as he looked into the faces of his friends and family. Luna was the only one who didn't look scared, she instead looked both excited and sad.

After that conversation life was never the same for Harry. His marriage to Ginny ended within a year, despite the redhead initially arguing that it wouldn't matter that Harry didn't age. But Harry had eventually sat her down and asked her 'if it was her, could she bear the thought of watching her children grow up and die?' Eventually Ginny had agreed and they separated, Harry giving her as much as she would take, which was not a lot.

After that Harry had not felt as welcomed by the Weasley's. Even Ron and Hermione, who understood the reasons behind the separation, seemed to pull away. He was still invited around, of course, as he was still an uncle to all the children, but he was also an outsider, especially after Ginny re-married 3 years after their split. Her new husband was a German pureblood whom she met during the Quidditch World Cup where England played. His name was Maximillian Ulrich, a nice enough wizard who Harry found quite pleasant.

Eventually life moved forward and Harry remained. He had lost something in that conversation with death: his passion, his spirit, his drive. After his separation, Harry had moved back into Grimmauld place with Kreacher, the old elf happy to serve Harry. He had retired from the aurors, closing himself off from the world. He had maintained some contact with his friends but seeing them only brought Harry bittersweet happiness.

It was Luna who had eventually pulled Harry back into the world with unwavering support and acceptance. She had practically forced herself into his home one day and refused to leave unless Harry came with her. It had been her who forced Harry to accept his status and embrace his new existence. Her who asked Harry what he wanted to do with his unending time, her who brought books on magic, on cultures, on languages. It was all Luna, who had forced Harry the unchanging to change, to adapt and learn more about the world.

Now Luna with gone. And so was all of the Weasley's, Neville– hell, even Draco was gone. Harry was officially alone. He was 213-years-old, yet he looked 17. He was lost in the world, adrift.

The first-time Harry ever considered life outside of earth was when he was 221. He had taken to spending his time in the muggle world, having allowed himself to 'die' with the help of the goblins shortly after Luna's passing. Said goblins were the only ones left who knew of his immortal status. His name was still a legend to his people, even with him becoming a recluse his story was told: the whispered hero, forever spoken about by the masses.

Harry, however, had moved on, going by Callen James Black. Callen after his mother Lily, James… well that was obvious and Black after Sirius. He had been shopping in London, trying to find clothes that fit his forever teenage body.

The turn of the century had once again brought about a change in clothing and Harry had decided that he would fit in, despite not having any plans on actually socialising with people wearing clothes that didn't make him stand out would help with when he needed to. He didn't want friends– friends just meant more people he would eventually lose.

Harry had been going about his business like usual when the screaming happened. It had only been his centuries of practice that didn't have him panicking. Instead he called on his magic and made himself invisible, charming it so that even his scent was covered.

Scanning the crowd Harry couldn't believe it. The mannequins, they were walking? They were also attacking people. With a sigh Harry flicked his wrist, he did not want to be dealing with this, but the containment squad attached to the ministry appeared to be running late and he couldn't just sit back at watch as the helpless muggles died in an unprovoked magical attack. It had been decades since such an obvious attack had happened and Harry had to wonder if there was a new Dark Lord rising.

With the ease of countless years of mastery Harry went about trying to de-spell the mannequins and allowed himself to gape when he realised they were not spelled. They were plastic– living plastic. What had the muggles been up to?

Harry thought back to every book he had read, every story he had heard and drew up a blank. What he was seeing and when he knew to be real were not complying. In his long life, Harry had allowed himself to become a bit of a fanatic, reading and storing all the information he could on anything he wanted– which turned into a little bit of everything. Ron had once joked in one of the rare moments he had visited Harry, that Harry had turned into Hermione, only worse.

Seeing as he couldn't de-spell the mannequins Harry instead started to blast them, making sure that he went unnoticed and had stunned the muggles first. He didn't want to be found out by the ministry for revealing magic after having so successfully disappeared for years.

It was as the last mannequin turned trying to locate him that Harry felt it. A surge, not magical but it was something then the last mannequin jerked, suddenly fighting for control before it fell to the ground. Scanning it quickly Harry found it was now just plastic, no trace of life, no residual magic, not even that strange energy from before. It was just plastic.

Looking around at the carnage Harry vowed to himself he would find answers before he apparated away. However, not before he heard a strange sound, a whirring of engines, and a girl's voice shouting the word 'Doctor'.

Returning home Harry was surprised when he felt a flicker of interest build up. It had been so long since anything had caught his attention, and this, this right here was a mystery he would love to solve.

The Doctor stood, looking at the young girl he had brought along with him. He had vowed to himself he wouldn't do this again. He wouldn't endanger anybody else, he wouldn't be responsible for somebody's life and their subsequent death, but… this girl she had such potential. He could practically see it, her life and its possibilities and it was amazing, magnificent even.

However, there was something else, just as he had closed the door. He had felt it, a shift, even the TADRIS had noticed it. However, when he had asked the ship, she had seemingly not registered it, asking again resulted in what the Doctor could only summarise as smug laughing from the sentient machine. Shocked, he pulled out his sonic and was about to try and get some answers when he was interrupted.

"So, where are we going then? Past, future, a new world or even an old world?" Rose asked pulling the Doctor away from his mental conversation with the TARDIS and back into the present.

The Doctor thought for a moment before he grinned. "How about the end of a world?" he asked.

Rose laughed, "bring it on space man," she said, her blue eyes sparkling with the thought of adventure.

The end of the world had been both frightfully overwhelming and dreadfully underwhelming for Rose. She was in the year 5,000,000,000 standing on the observation deck of space station Platform One and she felt so small. The whole world was gone yet she had just spoken to her mum on the phone. The planets destruction had not even been observed, the mess with Cassandra the human trampoline had caused the planets final seconds to go unnoticed.

"It's gone," she whispered sadly to herself, watching as the debris shot harmlessly by the station. The adrenaline from almost dying as well as the shock of seeing the Doctor allow Cassandra to die was catching up on her and she felt like crying and laughing all at once.

"It's gone and yet it's still there," the Doctor told her, stepping out from behind the door. He had allowed Rose a moment while he himself collected his thoughts. Jabe had died, and, although he had just met her it was another death he had caused, another to add to his list. Even Rose had almost died, making him wonder if he was doing the right thing.

"My mum's down there, nothing but ash," Rose whispered, whether to herself or him the Doctor was unsure.

The Doctor laughed, "now that's morbid," he said, "you should know that your mum's fine, you just spoke to her. That down there, that won't happen to her. To her the world is safe and fine. You see, time… times just this thing, this big, wibbly, wobbly thing. Everything that's ever happened and everything that will ever happen is all going on right now," the Doctor explained.

"But– but" Rose stuttered, her exhaustion and shock making it hard for her to come to terms with the idea.

The Doctor sighed before an idea hit him. "Come on, come with me," he said, and he grabbed Rose's hand.

Following after the mad alien Rose once again questioned what she knew about him– why she had followed him. Entering the TARDIS, she stood and watched as he ran around manically pressing buttons and pulling levers. Eventually the ship settled and the Doctor turned to face her with a smile. "Come on then," he said, his northern accent dispelling some of Rose's concerns. He was alien… but he also was not.

"Where are we now?" she asked as he opened the door.

"Take a look," the Doctor said, indicating to the doors.

Walking outside Rose looked around. "This, this is London. We're in London," Rose said, recognising the street.

"London, England, Earth year 2005. Only a few hours after we left to be precise." The Doctor told her.

Looking around in wonder Rose span in the circle, "It's all still here!" she exclaimed.

"All still here," the Doctor confirmed.

"They have no idea," Rose said, looking at the crowds that where ignoring them as they went about their business.

"Nope, life for them is on-going," the Doctor said.

"It's all still here, it will still be here for another 5,000,0000,000 years," she said excitedly.

"Yup, so where to now?" He asked her.

"I don't know, I don't know what I want. Wait, actually, can you smell that?" Rose changed what she was saying halfway, distacted.

The Doctor sniffed, his nose so much more powerful. He could smell the sweat of the people, the pollen in the air, hell he could tell the time in the century by the smell of the pollution, but he could also smell– "chips, I can smell chips."

"That's what I want, I want chips," Rose decided.

"Then chips it is," the Doctor agreed.

"Come on then, your treat." Rose told him, looping her arm through his and giving him a tug.

"I don't have any money." The Doctor admitted happily.

Rose laughed, and sighed dramatically, "rubbish date you," she said, "I suppose chips are on me then."

"I can't believe that was Charles Dickens. The Charles Dickens!" Rose exclaimed, exiting the TARDIS in what she believed to be her original time.

"Yup, good ol'charlie boy," the Doctor agreed.

"So, this is just a few hours after we left," Rose asked him, amazed.

"Yup, you left last night, about 12 hours ago," the Doctor confirmed.

"Great, I just want to say a quick hello to my mum then we can be off," Rose said, turning and walking towards the flat block, "don't you be going off anywhere without me

The Doctor hummed his consent and turned, looking around. His eyes spotted a newspaper and a missing persons ad. Seeing the face in the ad his eyes were drawn to the date. Realising his mistake, he ran after the human, but he didn't make it in time.

"12 months, and not a word. Not one phone call!" He heard Rose's mum shouting as he approached her door.

Appearing the Doctor sent Rose a sorry look, "it's not been 12 hours, its 12 months. You've been gone a whole year. Sorry." He said, smiling brightly before he quickly hid his expression.

Rose sent the Doctor a hard look as she tried to calm her now sobbing mother. "I gathered," she replied dryly, just as her mother started to lay into both of them.

Harry ran his hand through his hair and sighed, he had found zero reliable information on this so called 'Doctor' in the magical world and was actually considering 'offing' himself just so he could question Death. He had searched the Black library, and even donned a disguise and entered Hogwarts. The old castles wards had welcomed him like a long-lost son and helped him in hiding his presence. He had spent almost four months practically living in the dusty stacks before he gave up.

Eventually realising that the magic world wouldn't hold any answers and he decided to 'go muggle'. Harry had worked hard to infiltrate the muggle world and could pass as a muggle easily. This was contributed to his more Slytherin traits having been developed over the years.

He could now easily slip between the worlds and go unnoticed. He had even been able to work on his magic, making it possible for him to allow magic alongside muggle technology. When technology had started to advance the wizarding world had fallen behind and many had given up working with technology as their magic worked negatively with it, instead separating further from their muggle counterparts. The gap between the two societies had become a lot bigger. Harry though, he had embraced the situation. It was a mystery that took him nearly a decade to master but now here he was, a wizard capable of utilising both magic and technology. It had been a task which Harry had enjoyed as it took up his time, something of which he had infinite amount of.

His search had rendered one conclusion though, which was that whoever the Doctor was, he most definitely wasn't a wizard.

Harry took this thought and planned, apperating silently to The British Library to go through their archives. Here, what Harry found shocked him. There were mentions of the Doctor throughout history, men popping up all over the place, making Harry assume the title was either passed down or transferred. Harry found mentions of events in history, conspiracies and theories that all surrounded this 'Doctor'. Things like wherever he went disaster followed, yet there where also mentions of him during inconsequential times, and times of celebration making Harry wonder… just who was this man?

The rabbit hole he found himself in was the first thing in a very long time that had Harry feeling excited. With age he had grown apathetic. He had become bored with the world and now he had an honest to god mystery.

Research lead Harry down more dark and mysterious paths, until he eventually found himself a year later sitting with a laptop. His magic decrypting the national defences secret archives. This use for his magic had been a startling discovery but one of the most useful ones he had to that day.

The files were both old and new and so intriguing Harry could barely stop the smile he had from forming. Aliens. Honest to god aliens from outer space. They were real and, apparently, the muggle government knew all about them– this made Harry wonder if the magicals had any idea but he guessed they didn't as they had separated themselves from the muggle world so completely in the last century.

Withdrawing his magic Harry allowed the decryption to stop and briefly read through the files he had found. This man– well, alien, made Harry look practically selfish. He took being the selfless hero to the next level. Always fighting to save the world and never expecting anything in return, a true martyr. Not finding anything new in the files Harry briefly felt his excitement fade away. He had answered the great mystery and done what he had set out to do. And, honestly, he didn't know what to do, or turn to, now.

Sipping on his latte Harry closed his eyes and sat back to enjoy the mid-morning sun. The Embankment café he was sitting at really did serve the best coffee in London. He should know, he had become addicted to the drink in the 70's and had literally been everywhere to find the best cup. Soon Harry found himself slipping into a light meditation, a practice he had developed just after his 80th birthday as a way to maintain constant occlumency shields.

However, his relaxation soon disappeared as screams and shouts soon drew Harry out of his mind and back into the present. Looking up Harry felt his eyes widen as he saw a flying saucer crash into the buildings of parliament and take out some of Big Ben.

Well, at least his life wouldn't become boring to quickly, he mused as he stood. Placing 10 pounds on the table, he apperated to the crash site.

Harry stood and watched as a body was pulled from the wreckage in the Thames. He couldn't believe alien contact had been made. Making sure to keep a repellent charm up as well as a silencing spell, Harry made his way towards an official looking tent and listened in on the muggles conversation. The repellent charm would work like an anti-muggle ward but was easier to maintain on a person Harry had discovered.

"'Missing been gone all day!" a man in a suit exclaimed, his appearance disheveled and he was clearly stressed.

"Then who's in charge?"

"Green," somebody else responded, this time it was a woman dressed in military clothing. She looked quite important.

"Green, as in the Sugar man? He's hardly the best option,"

"He's the highest authority we have until the cabinet is recalled."

Hearing this Harry wondered about the chances of such an event happening when all of the government higherups happened to be gone and put the chances at around zero. Having his interest once again spiked Harry listened in, listening to them the speak about the hospital the alien was going to. Deciding that he would continue to investigate, the most interesting thing to happen to him since his teenage years, Harry once again apparated, this time near the hospital he knew the alien was heading to.

Walking in Harry watched as the military set up a perimeter and investigated their equipment. Harry had never really seen any muggle weapons and upon inspecting them he decided he didn't like them. After all the death he had seen in his long life, Harry abhorred weapons, which had the sole purpose of harming others. Turning away from the soldiers Harry entered a smaller room, something that looked like a large cupboard. Just as he was about to turn back however his interest was piqued. There was a familiar whirling sound of engines.

Hearing the commotion Harry turned just in time to have somebody collide forcefully into him, the shock sending them both to the floor. Hitting the floor with a daze the Doctor looked down into the greenest eyes he had ever seen and was confused.

"Who are you?" he questioned, looking at the man who had suddenly appeared and unsure if he had just been invisible or if he had only just noticed him.

"How did you run into me?" Harry asked simultaneously. The shock of somebody hitting him while he was maintaining his repellent ward had been enough to make him drop his invisibility spell.

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said, grinning at the man he was still lying on top of.

Harry stared up at the man and traced his features with his eyes. He looked to be in his 40,'s, buzzed dark hair and brown eyes. His ears also happened to be rather prominent. "The Doctor?" Harry questioned, not believing his luck.

The Doctor however didn't know about this and instead stood and offered Harry his hand. "That's me, now, who are you?" he asked, staring at the man– or more presicely teen guessing his age to be around 18. The man-boy had black hair that fell to his shoulders in mad waves, pale skin and the greenest eyes the Doctor could recall seeing in a human, there was also an unusual scar on his forehead that the Doctor felt like he should recognize. The boy was also skinny but looked healthy in his form fitting black jumper and dark jeans. The teen was quite handsome, and held an allure of power that the Doctor found strange. "What are you?" he added as an afterthought.

Harry held back his answer as he studied the man who was studying him, hearing the question Harry held out his hand and gave the name he had been going by for the last few years, "Callan James Black," he told him, "and I'm guessing you don't mean a Leo? I'm human."

The Doctor smiled and shook his hand, intrigued. "Pleasure Mr Black. Now, what's a boy like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, curious. This place was on lockdown, how a supposedly human teen had gotten passed all the locked doors made him curious.

Harry looked around and saw they were still in the cupboard "What, can't a man casually hang around in a cupboard waiting for unsuspecting men to suddenly fall on them?" he asked, enjoying the banter. It had been so long since he had somebody to talk to, let alone flirt with.

"Well they could, but I know this place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox, so tell me Callan, why are you here?" the Doctor asked.

"Why? This is the most interesting thing to happen in a long time," Harry replied honestly.

The Doctor let out a laugh, "interesting, I though you apes hated the unknown?"

"I would like to think I'm more than the average ape," Harry responded.

"Well then Mr Black, would you fancy joining me on an adventure?" the Doctor offered without thought. He already had Rose as a companion but for some reason he felt drawn to this dark-haired boy.

Harry considered before he smiled. What's the worst that could happen? However, seeing where the Doctors hand was about to go Harry regretted these thoughts.

"No don't-" However Harry's warning came to late and the Doctor opened the door that lead to the room full of soldiers and their weapons. Weapons that were immediately pointed at the two men.

"-open the door," Harry finished his sentence in a whispered shout, sending the Doctor a look of exasperation.

The Doctor shot Harry a smile before he turned and grinned at the soldiers. "Hello," he greeted jovially. Silly humans with their silly guns.

However, before the soldiers could even flinch, a woman's scream echoed through the room. Grabbing Harry's hand the Doctor ran towards the soldiers and started barking commands, something that startled them into action.

"Follow me," he said to Harry.

Harry ran after the alien and considered if he really wanted this much of an adventure. Sure, it was exciting and interesting, but he was old. He was tired. The flirting had been fun, the mystery intriguing but now he was living it. He didn't know if he wanted that. He had already lived and lost so much.