Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Doctor Who. If I were J.K. Rowling/Warner Bros. or (and) BBC, I'd be really rich and hated by many fans for killing off so many amazing characters. Well, allons-y!

Harry Potter stared at the sprawling lawns before him; this was his new home. The house he and his loving wife, Ginny Potter, would share for the rest of their lives, and raise their children in.

He saw the huge, brownstone mansion behind large, iron gates, like an island in an emerald sea. Ginny, James, Albus and Lily were all with the Weasleys on a shopping trip for some new furniture. He was left to give the house one final check.

He quietly Apparated into the house, not wanting to walk the couple miles to the gates, and made his way through the grand foyer, up the stairs and into the master bedroom.

Most of the house had already been set up. Being the Savior of the Wizarding World, he had gotten many perks, and one was having tons of wizard companies clamoring to give you things, and for free, no less.

The war had been years ago. His sons were at Hogwarts. He was in his forties already, and his lightning scar was growing fainter. He was aging, but slowly, and was athletic and fit, thanks to being Head Auror. He was finally no longer attending funerals and he was, instead, focusing on his job and family. He, Ron and Hermione all were still very close, and their children were like his children. He kept in close touch with the Weasleys, Neville and Luna, and even Seamus and Dean, all his childhood friends.

But he missed one friend. One very special friend, who showed up at random times, and always knew what to do and what to say. A friend who was quite fantastic, but often showed up as someone else from time to time. Someone who, in no other words, was a madman with a box.

(Flashbacks Start Here.)

His friend had started his visits when Harry was a child. He was seven, and on a grocery shopping trip for Aunt Petunia. He'd gotten a little sidetracked, because a blonde woman accidentally knocked him over.

"I'm so sorry," she'd exclaimed breathlessly, her eyes widening in horror as he dropped all his bags. Miraculously, none of the groceries had spilled or had smashed, but he himself had landed hard on the pavement. "I didn't see you there," she had continued, kneeling by him as he struggled to sit up.

"It's alright," he had replied politely, though it had hurt. She had bit her lower lip, and he had noticed she was quite pretty. A man had strode up to them quickly.

"Rose!" he had shouted. "There you are-why do they all never follow the 'don't wander off' rule?" He had stopped short seeing Harry. The woman, Rose, had gotten up, helping Harry up as well.

"What's your name?" she had asked him. "We could give you a lift home."

"We could?" the man had asked, confused. He was tall and muscular, and wore a long black leather coat, trainers, jeans and a dark shirt, and loomed over him.

"Yes," Rose had nodded, looking quite cross. She had turned back to Harry with a gentle smile. "My name's Rose Tyler. This here is my friend. He's the Doctor."

"That's me, I'm the Doctor," the man had waved, grinning cheerfully.

Harry had gathered up his groceries. "Doctor?" he had asked timidly. "The Doctor of what?"

The man had blinked, looking surprised. "Never heard that one yet, and by a child," he had replied, delighted. "No, just the Doctor. Or 'Doctor'."

"Oh." Harry had frowned, thinking that over carefully. "I'm Harry Potter." Aunt Petunia had always said it was polite to introduce yourself to new people.

The Doctor had looked ecstatic. "Harry Potter? Fantastic!" he had crowed. "Oh, Rose! We're going to have a fantastic time with Harry Potter!"

Rose had grinned back, though a little confusedly. The Doctor had led them both off, one bag of groceries in one hand (Rose had the other, while Harry held the last) and jabbered on and on as they started off toward where Harry lived.

Harry had seen the Doctor twice every week until he had turned twelve after that. He had learned that this man and Rose weren't a couple, but they were close friends. He had also learned she was very special to him.

But after he left for Hogwarts, he never saw the Doctor again. He pushed the fond, distant memories of the Doctor and Rose Tyler out of his mind, until third year came. He had used the Time Turner, and a few days later, Rose Tyler had visited him in his dorm room, with a different man, in a brown pinstriped suit and Converse, who was tall, thin, messy-haired and resembled Barty Crouch Jr. greatly, though had a kind smile and laughing brown eyes.

That's when he'd learned the Doctor wasn't human-he was a Timelord from Gallifrey, and he used his Muggle police box called the Tardis to travel through time and space. He also learned this was the Doctor's tenth regeneration.

"Why'd you leave me?" Harry had asked, more curious than angry or sad.

"I didn't mean to," the Doctor had replied, looking a tad less joyful. "You needed to follow your own path, and what a fine path it is. Many adventures await. Now, Rose, back to the Tardis; his friends will be coming soon. Allons-y!"

That Doctor visited several times once more, twice with Rose and a handsome fellow named Jack (who tried to flirt with Harry) and then with a pretty young woman with dark hair and smooth chocolate-brown skin named Martha.

"Where's Rose, Doctor?" Harry asked when he'd been introduced to Martha, a late Saturday in his fourth year. He'd wanted to compare a newspaper picture of Barty Crouch Jr. to the Doctor, and was sure Rose would get a kick out of it.

Martha gave a little noise of defeat. "Oh, for the love of God," she murmured. The Doctor's usual gleam dimmed.

"She's gone," he replied, somberly, and Harry felt a twinge of sadness. He could see Martha's obvious frustration, though, and felt bad for her; it was clear she was in love with the Doctor, whilst he still grieved and pined for Rose.

"I'm sorry," Harry replied diplomatically. "But Doctor...You have Martha." He had given Martha a kind smile; she had looked quite surprised, but gratified, and smiled back, looking beautiful.

The Doctor nodded, but his voice was a tad false, cheerful to a fault. "Yes, I suppose you're right!" he grinned wildly. "We must get going, though; time for an adventure!"

And then Martha and the Doctor were gone, away for more adventures.

Harry met the next companion; Donna Noble, in his fifth year. She was opinionated, outspoken and ginger; she could have been a Weasley. He had enjoyed her commentary at a Quidditch match, which she yelled over the crowds to him and the Doctor in the hospital wing in his sixth year. She was the Doctor's best friend. He seemed so happy, it was quite hard for Harry not to be happy as well.

And then the last dozen times he saw the Doctor, he was different. He was goofier, funnier. He wore bowties, fezzes and stetsons. He wore suspenders, and had two best friends named Amy Pond and Rory Williams.

Harry loved the Ponds. They had actually forced the Doctor to visit Harry once, in the summer before his seventh year, bringing a woman named River. It had been at two a.m. in the morning, and the Tardis had appeared in his bedroom, barely fitting in the cramped space.

Harry saw the Ponds more than anyone; he figured it was because they were so attached to him. Amy loved talking to him, claiming she wished she could go to Hogwarts, and Rory always was happy when his wife was happy.

The last time Harry saw the Doctor, he was walking in the Forbidden Forest, tracking some werewolf prints for Hagrid as a detention from Snape (no surprise).

"Harry! How's it going?" the Doctor would ask, always ecstatic. Then, before Harry could even reply, he yelled, "COME ALONG PONDS!" The Ponds and River all came out of the Tardis.

"Amy! Rory! River! How're you lot doing?" Harry asked, surprised and happy they were there.

"We had to see you," Amy admitted, hugging him. "You are our favorite wizard hero, anyway."

"What about Merlin?" Rory hissed to her. She elbowed him in the ribs lightly.

"He's a warlock," the Doctor explained loudly, and both jumped slightly. He wore black glasses. "Difference, Ponds, difference. Anyway! Harry-how's the stop-Voldemort plan working? Good?"

"Uh...Yeah," Harry nodded, looking slightly concerned. "I guess. Doctor...Are you wearing glasses?"

"Reading glasses," the Doctor nodded, beaming. "Like 'em?"

River rolled her eyes. Amy and Rory exchanged looks. Harry stared at the Doctor as if he were mad.

"What?" the Doctor asked, looking indignant. "Glasses are cool."

"Of course they are," Harry suppressed a smile, touching his own round glasses. The Doctor gave him a kind smile.

"Now those glasses are spectacular!" he exclaimed, reaching out and tapping Harry's glasses.

"'ARRY?" a loud, booming voice roared. "YOU ALRIGH'?"

"That's Hagrid," Harry explained apologetically. "I've got to go."

"We'll see you again," Rory promised.

"Into the Tardis, you lot!" the Doctor announced. "Places to go, people to see-Geronimo!" Amy hugged Harry once more before floating into the Tardis. Rory clapped Harry on the shoulder, smiling, before following her. River gave him a quick hug, winked, whispered, "Spoilers," and then turned and left. Only the Doctor remained. Harry watched him carefully.

"I won't see you again, will I?" he asked finally, regretting the answer with great pain.

The Doctor shrugged, but his eyes were distant. "I don't know," he confessed. "I truly, really don't...But I won't forget you, Harry Potter, I never forget important people...And everyone's important, so I never forget anyone." He smiled distractedly. "Quite sad, really. A sixteen year old, fighting a legendary wicked man. But you will conquer."

"You really think so?" Harry asked quietly, looking down at his scuffed-up trainers.

The Doctor grasped his shoulder, and Harry looked up, surprised. The Doctor's thousand-year-old eyes were full of warmth and support. "I know so," he replied quietly. And then he was gone as well.

(Flashbacks End Here.)

Harry smiled nostalgically, gazing around his giant, airy bedroom. He missed the Doctor. He glanced at his watch and nearly cursed. Dinner was in three minutes, with all his old friends, the Weasleys and the Potters. He Disapparated, Apparating into the Weasley Manor, where Ron, Hermione, Rose and Hugo lived.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, hugging him. "Everyone's waiting-Come on!" She dragged him out, into the beautiful patio, overlooking the lush gardens, where, seated at the long, glass table, were his family and friends.

"Sorry," Harry apologized quickly. "I was at the house." Ginny gave him a warm smile.

He sat down, and was drinking some Butterbeer, when he heard a familiar whirring sound. He glanced over, and his eyes widened. His jaw dropped, and he went rigidly still. His Butterbeer bottle slipped from his trembling fingers, smashing to the ground. Everyone drew their wand.

"Harry!" Ron hissed. "Mate, draw your wand!"

But Harry simply rushed forward, midst everyone's protests, and the Tardis's doors flew open. The Doctor, in all his bowtie glory, strode out.

"Harry!" he exclaimed.

"Doctor!" Harry yelped, half-shocked, half-amazed. "You came!"

"Look at you," the Doctor added, his eyes round. "You're a man, Harry! No longer a mere seven year old with a keen mind and wonderful stories!" He gave Harry a big grin. "And look who's here. Meet miss Clara Oswald." He flourished his arms, and out of the Tardis walked a radiant young woman with long, gleaming dark hair, olive-toned skin and chocolate-brown eyes.

"'Lo," Clara Oswald smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks. "That's me, Clara Oswald. Clara's fine, though. You must be Harry Potter!" She shook his hand vigorously. "The Doctor goes on and on about you."

"Pleasure," Harry laughed, but a dull ache tugged at his heart. The Ponds...River...

The Doctor was watching him carefully. "They're gone," he said softly, and Clara slowly stopped smiling. "All of them."

Harry lowered his eyes. "Doctor, I'm so..." His throat closed. He couldn't say sorry. That wouldn't fix anything, and it would be just like what everyone said to him after Sirius's deaths and the war and its toll on his life and everyone around him.

The Doctor nodded solemnly, but brightened a few seconds after. "But Clara-oh, she's a feisty one," he crowed, and Harry smiled. "Can talk circles around anyone."

"Even you?" Harry teased, laughing at the Doctor's incredulous look.

"No," the Doctor sniffed, offended he'd even suggested such a thing. Clara giggled.

"You're anyone, aren't you?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

"No, I'm the Doctor," he retorted. "And you, Clara Oswald, are the Impossible Girl." He winked at Harry. "Long story, short time, and my, my, Harry, you've got quite the personal army!"

Harry started; he'd forgotten the others were there. He turned; most were openly gaping. "Oh, sorry," he winced. "Guys, this is my old friend, the Doctor. This is his, er..."

"His friend," Clara said firmly.

"Friend," Harry agreed, giving her an apologetic smile. "Clara Oswald."

"I've never even heard of the Doctor," Ron frowned.

"He visited only a dozen times every year," Harry explained. He turned to the Doctor. "Want to stay for dinner?"

"I'm going to stay for a while," the Doctor admitted. "Clara and I are taking a break from travelling-the Tardis is going to rest as well. We need it for what will soon come up."

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Spoilers," the Doctor replied, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Harry chuckled. He wanted to know, so badly, about the Doctor's adventures; his gains, his losses, his wins, his loses, his friends, his enemies...He wanted to know what happened to Rose, and Jack, and Donna and Martha, and Amy and Rory, and River...And why Clara was the Impossible Girl.

But that would be for another day, because he realized that the Doctor needed some time off. All heroes needed a break sometimes, from battling their way across the vast universe, and travelling through the wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey space stuff that was time.

And Harry Potter was sure that with the Doctor there, things wouldn't be anything less than fantastic.