Disclaimer: I own nada.

A/N: yeah, it's been a while. This chapter's been sitting half-finished for a while now; now that it's summer, though, I'm trying to get in some more writing. I hope you enjoy it – in this one, a brand new character is introduced! (And if any really, REALLY bright cookie manages to catch the deeper meaning, well… You suck, and just spoilt yourself a biggie part of the plot. Keep it to yourself, and I'll write you a one-shot!)

Blue, Green and Everything Inbetween

Chapter Four

"Lumos!" The harsh whisper sounded, and a bright light lit up the rocky valley. Behind the wand, a black haired boy shivered, using his spare arm to rub at his other. "It's cold…" He muttered, before turning bright green eyes to the other man. "I thought you said we were going to a festival?"

The Doctor frowned, tapping his watch and shaking it, strapped to his wrist as it was. "Yes… We should be. The co-ordinates are right, except…" a look of chagrin washed over his expression. "I… I guess I must have miscalculated the date..."

Harry stared incredulously. "Really? But you never – " he paused, thinking of all the times they'd landed off course. And then with that girl, Rose, that the Doctor had told him about – the time when he'd landed her a year off course… "Okay, so it happens. But still. Is it the wrong year? Month? I mean – unless it's way, way off, shouldn't there still be some life or civilisation?" (He knew he was starting to ramble, but at that moment anything felt better than the chill that ran down his spine and ached in his bones, echoed by the desolate land around them.)

"That's the thing…" The Doctor muttered, "I didn't do anything wrong…" Suddenly, his eyes widened, and his face turned white. "I didn't do anything…"

He spun, quickly, hands grabbing Harry's shoulders. "Are you feeling strange? Weird? Did something different happen today to you? What?"

"What?" Harry repeated, balking in the face of The Doctor's intensity. "No, only…"

"Only what? What?"

"I… When the alarm sounded in my room, saying we were landing, I was… I was asleep, having a nightmare…" His mind turned inwards, remembering; A snarling, ripping mass of teeth that tore into his arm; a sibilant, menacing hissing; and a terrible laugh as a flash of green light threw him into a chilled feeling of terror – the fright of which overcame him now, even in memory –

"Harry! Harry, calm down – just stay with me, calm, everything's fine –"

He looked up, only to find every piece of debris in a mile radius shaking violently, the small pebbles and dust rising into the air. A loud rumble shook the ground, snapping him out of his fear-induced mindset, and the moment that reality hit him, everything dropped back into place and stilled.

Harry let out a low, long breath, before looking up into the Doctor's warm brown eyes, and became aware of the arms that enveloped him in a warm, gentle hug. "It's okay Harry," the man mumbled into the boy's hair, "Voldemort won't so much as look at you so long as I'm here."

And then the question that Harry had been dreading cropped up.

"What was your nightmare about?"

"It's nothing…" He looked away, a blush blossoming on his cheeks. "It's stupid."

"Nah, it's not stupid if it affects you like this. I promise I won't laugh."

"It's just… It was just the Basilisk, like I said, it's nothing." Unconsciously, one of his hands gripped the crook of his elbow, where the scar still resided.

A dark look overcame the Doctor, although Harry didn't see it as he became lost in his memories. "I know," he continued, "It is stupid. I beat the Basilisk. It's dead and gone and I'm still alive so really –"

"Harry," the Doctor interrupted, "I know it still affects you. That all that stuff still affects you; the Basilisk, Quirrell, Pettigrew… I'd be worried if it had taken you any longer to show a greater sign of it."

He remembered all the times he'd come into a room to see Harry just staring. The times he'd reacted violently, if in a subdued sort of fashion, to ordinary things that left him with a pained look on his face. The many moments The Doctor had felt helpless, wishing desperately that he could just turn back time and change things; to rip that Dark Lord to shreds; and the even darker times when Harry had suffered horrible fits of claustrophobia, and he'd felt such strong anger at the Dursley's that, in those very moments when the darkness had crept upon him, he knew that if he'd been standing next to those vermin right then that honestly, he would have committed murder.

"Come on then," The Doctor said softly, "I think you might need a bit of practice in control; I'll take you to the best magical teacher in the universe."

"Teach me magic?" Harry managed a laugh, although it was hard and bitter. "Are you sure a therapist wouldn't be better instead?"

"Oh no, we don't want to cure your insanity. It's the only thing all my companions have in common, you know."

"So… Who's this teacher? What's he like?"

"I think you'll like him…"

"Rhyse Teapot. And you must be Harry Potter?"

"Er… It's nice to meet you. Um. Rice teapot?"

The Doctor had taken them to a rather small planet, on the edge of an un-pronounceable galaxy. Even though it was quite small – Harry was sure he could walk in a straight line and come back to his starting point in two weeks – It was lush with vibrantly green plants and many glistening pools of water. It reminded him more of a tropical island than its own planet.

After they'd landed, they'd found what looked to be a beach house (apparently, his new teacher was a fan of classic Earth), complete with a decking that overlooked a lake that had a small sandy front. Sat in what could only be a deck chair, was a man that looked to be in his early thirties, with white hair cut close to his scalp and light stubble over the lower half of his face. The colour of his eyes were light grey, almost white, although what might have once been equally pale skin was now tanned from the however many days the man had spent in the planets glorious weather.

He saluted them with a drink brimming with ice, and Harry's eyes tracked the movements of the strong muscles. Whilst the man was lean, there was no mistaking the power behind him, reminding him strongly of a predator.

"Great to see you, Doctor!" The man greeted, voice smooth with a British accent.

"Good to see you too," The Doctor replied in an equally British accent. Harry wondered if they were part of the same club. Or cult.

The Doctor pushed Harry forwards, the movement catching the strange man's penetrating stare. "Rhyse Teapot," he said. "And you must be Harry Potter?"

"Er… It's nice to meet you." Harry felt the need to say something polite. Smart. Funny. "Um." This would be his teacher, he had to make a good impression – but only one thought was running circles around his brain. "Rice teapot?"

The man gave an amused grin. "R-H-Y-S-E. Teapot. That's my name!"

Harry immediately felt incredibly stupid. "Er." Was all he could say.

"I know, it's a bit odd," Rhyse continued. "My dad had a pretty strange sense of humour. If it helps, my middle name sounds more Alien."

"What is it?"

"J'marr."

"Oh," said Harry, not quite sure what else to say.

"It means Jam in my native language; it's a sort of offshoot of a mutation of Earth English."

"Don't worry Harry," The Doctor cut in, "I'd trust ol' Jammy with my life. So! I'll be back in – how long?"

"A week," Rhyse answered. "And then you're taking him to that school, right?" He turned to frown at Harry. "Okay, you better study hard. But If I find out that you spend your week there without practicing your magic, when you come back for a week at your weekend, I'll make run laps around the planet."

Harry felt like gaping. What? Oh, it was all so confusing! He was still getting used to his new schedule. He'd spend a week here, then the Doctor would come and take him to school for the start of term; and then, at the start of the weekend, The Doctor would bring him back here – the day after he left, and he'd spend another week here, to then be taken back to school in time for the Monday-equivalent of classes… And on, and on, and on, until he either learnt it all or imploded from the whole mess of it.

The Doctor gave him a hug, then left him standing there with a rucksack full of clothes and trinkets. "See you soon, Harry!"

The techno grinding noise had never seemed like a death knoll before. With trepidation, he turned to Rhyse, the man holding out an ice-cold drink, and his parched mouth began to water.

"Only," his teacher began, "If you can get it from this table," he sat it down, "without touching it. And without a wand."

Harry heaved a great sigh, set his bag down, and promptly started thinking "Wingardium Leviosa!" at the glass as hard as he could. With a swish and a flick of his wrist, he saw a ripple of movement in the liquid. Barely.

This… Was going to take a while.