Harry Potter sat in his parlour at 12 Grimmauld Place, looking thoughtfully at the wand in his hand. Centuries of use had worn the holly wood smooth, but other than that it looked just as it had the day it chose him.

His reverie was disturbed by a familiar and faint wheezing, groaning sound that he hadn't heard in way too many years, barely audible over the hustle and bustle of the London streets outside. Harry got up from the easy chair, moving to a window to look out. The blue antique police box on the far sidewalk was familiar. The skinny brown-haired man in the tight suit and glasses waving up at him from the box's door, however, was not – although Harry felt that he should be, as though the man was someone he vaguely knew once but couldn't put a name to the face anymore. He also wondered how the man could be waving at him, as he had ages ago restored the protective charms that made the house unseeable by anyone who didn't already know it was there.

He frowned at the stranger before the man waved him out again with a grin on his face. Harry slipped his wand into his pocket and left his office. "I'm going out for a walk, Artemesia," he told his housekeeper (who he was convinced also worked for the Ministry of Magic). "I'll be back in a few."

"Good to see you again, Harry!" the stranger said. "You haven't changed a bit! Fancy a bit of a jaunt, go on holiday?"

"Not to sound thick, but who are you?"

"Oh. Well, I suppose I have regenerated since the last time I've seen you...or you've seen me, for that matter. I'm The Doctor." The stranger stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet you again."

Seeing the suspicious look on Harry's face, he continued. "We first met in the Dalek invasion of 1997, a few months before you defeated Voldemort. I took you and Ginny on a cruise on the Cobalt Ocean of Obisav 2. Sorry again about the whole kraken thing."

"Yeah," Harry said with a smile, "you're the Doctor, all right. Still can't get used to the new faces all the time. Last I saw you, you were in black leather, with some...rather remarkable ears."

"So, what do you say, Harry?" the Doctor said after a brief, awkward silence. "You coming?"

"Yeah, sure." Harry entered the Tardis, stopping a few feet in as the Doctor closed the door.

"You've redecorated," he said, looking around as the Doctor scampered to the control panel to start pushing levers and pressing buttons. "I like it."

"The old gal was due for a change." The Doctor and Harry both grasped at the console when the Tardis lurched unexpectedly. "So, where do you want to go?"

The Doctor looked over at Harry when he didn't reply, and saw that the wizard was leaning against the console, staring at nothing. The Doctor flung his arm around Harry's shoulder. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"Nothing's wrong," Harry said, but stood silently after that for a minute.

"How do you do it?" he finally said.

"Do what?"

"How do you deal with living forever, while everyone around you, everyone you love and care about grows old and dies?"

"Wellll, I wouldn't say I live 'forever', exactly," the Doctor said before he realized that it it wasn't exactly the right time for levity and dropped his arm.

"I don't," he continued. He leaned back against the console. "Not really. It hurts every single time. The pain of any one parting eventually becomes a dull ache, but it never really goes away. And there's always new pain to join the old. Eventually you feel like one giant, humongous bruise."

"Does the new bodies help?"

The Doctor thought for a moment. "Not really, no." He looked at Harry, who was now looking down at the floor. "What's brought this on?"

"I've just returned from Saint Mungo's, day before yesterday. One of my great-great-something-or-other grandsons died of old age. And it got me thinking, how so very old I am, Doctor. Older than I have any right to be.

"I turn 568 in a few weeks. I've seen so much. I've seen Dalek invasions, Cybermen, I've defeated three separate Dark Lords since Voldemort, I've seen muggles and wizards both reach the stars, I've seen the repeal of the International Statute of Secrecy and beings being given full equality to humans, I've lived through two World Wars. The one thing I haven't seen is myself growing any older; I look just the same as I did the day I killed Voldemort. I can't die, Doctor. I've been Avada Kedavra'd more times than I can count, I've been hit by Dalek death rays, and I'm still here."

"I'm so sorry, Harry." The Doctor wrapped his arms around Harry and held him close while Harry fought back tears.

"It sounds like a holiday is just what you need. We can go wherever you want, for as long as you want, while you sort yourself out." The Doctor hopped up and started to manipulate the controls of the Tardis again.

"I need to go to Hogwarts again, Doctor."

"Hogwarts? Whatever for?"

"And I need to go to May 1, 1998."

"What?" The Doctor looked at Harry, alarmed. "No! You can't go back into your own personal time stream! The risk of creating a paradox is astronomical, especially with a pivot point like that!"

Harry sprang to his feet. "I have to, Doctor! The only way I can die is at Voldemort's hands..."

"You don't know that!"

"And since Voldemort is already dead," Harry shouted, ignoring the Doctor's interruption, "I have to go back to when he was alive and get him to kill me, without arousing his suspicion. He already expected me to surrender to him. My living this long, it's not right. Don't you see that?" Harry wiped the tears from his eyes angrily.

"No, I don't," the Doctor said calmly as he stepped away from the console. "I'm sorry, Harry, but I won't help you in this."

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but you don't leave me any choice. Imperio!" Harry whipped his wand up to point at the Doctor, who returned to the controls. Take me to the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry kept thinking, as loudly as he could. He could feel the Doctor fighting against the Imperius curse, more effectively than anyone that he could remember. The Doctor's mind felt unlike any Harry had ever used the Imperius Curse on before. It had always been cut and dried – either the Curse worked (in which case he simply had to picture what the victim was to do while under the Curse's effects), or it failed (and, more often than not, he had to face the wrath of an angry Dark Wizard). The Doctor's mind, however, seemed to take Harry's full attention. It felt almost like trying to juggle a handful of slime.

The Tardis felt like it slammed into something and slid to one side, knocking both Harry and the Doctor off their feet. When the Tardis finally came to a stop, Harry moved to the door and looked out the windows. It was dark out, and he could see the twisted shadows of the Forbidden Forest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw the Doctor get to his feet and lunge to the console. Harry aimed his wand at the Doctor and yelled "Stupefy!" watching as the Doctor hit the deck, unconscious.

Harry pulled on the door, only to find that it was locked. A silent "Alohamora" fixed that, and he stuck his head out for quick look around.

As he did, he heard a voice he hadn't heard in five and a half centuries. One that, much to his surprise, still sent chills down his spine.

"Give me Harry Potter," Voldemort said, "and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."