Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the authors, producers, and companies with whom the material in question is affiliated. I make no profit from this work.
A/N: This is my first crossover featuring Harry Potter, or any other work. I found myself inspired by Book of Changes's A Study in Magic. It's a great crossover between BBC's Sherlock and JK's world. Do try it out if you find yourself in the mood. It's excellent.
Due to the nature of the crossover, expect a time shift forward or back dependent on the universe. Let's just suppose that the alternate Earth depicted here is a few years behind that of the "real" Earth according to Rowling's cannon beginning in 1981. Also, ignores certain comments in Season 3, Episode 3 of Doctor Who.
Heavy Dialogue in this chapter, but don't worry: We'll fall into a more normal narrative style in future chapters. Consider this an extended prologue.
Please review! Happy reading!
Chapter One: Beginnings
2 November 2002
"This way, Rose!"
A man in a trench coat ran pell-mell down the otherwise quiet suburban street. A tabby cat yowled and ran off as he jumped a low garden wall to skid, reeling, across the perfectly manicured lawn of the house numbered "four."
"Doctor, the scanner says twenty feet south!"
"Don't be ridiculous! It's just a boring old house."
The man called Doctor raised a silver instrument and the light at the end began blinking as merry whirring broke the quiet of the early morning.
"Same reading, but there's nothing here! Perfectly normal house on a perfectly normal street in the middle of nowhere."
A small snuffling noise sounded from the dark doorstep just out of reach from number four's dim lamp and the faint blue glow of the sonic screwdriver.
"Owls! Owls all week! Mystery fireworks! Supposed natural disasters, bodies, death, destruction…"
"Doctor," Rose frowned, staring past the manically pacing man.
"A thousand trails this past month, then the other day there's an explosion in a tiny little no-where town and nothing! And now! Now!"
The Doctor spun in a circle, his little gadget whirring in varying frequencies.
"It's here! It's stronger than anything we've detected before-"
"Incredible! It's almost Time-Lord-y. The electromagnetic disturbance emanating from whatever it is-"
"Whirring chronons spinning in infinitesimal loops just here!"
Rose grabbed his sleeve and pulled him about to face the darkened doorstep.
"There's a baby."
"Don't be ridiculous. What would a baby be doing out in November? It's barely morning."
The Doctor fiddled with his gadget again.
"Signal, signal, signal…"
Rose pushed past the muttering man to scoop up the wriggling, whimpering bundle.
"Whoa! What happened?" the Doctor held his screwdriver to his ear, adjusting one of the tiny dials on its shaft. "Rose, did you see anything? Huge energy spike just there!"
"Doctor, please, shut up and look."
"What? What's so important that –"
The Doctor frowned and leaned over Rose's shoulder to peer down into the bluish face of a baby. A cut in the shape of a lightning bolt oozed blood over the child's forehead. He shivered beneath his blanket and sucked on his thumb.
"Well what do you know? Hello there, little chap," the Doctor whispered. "Let's take a look."
He held the sonic screwdriver over the baby's face. The man's bushy brows furrowed.
"That's impossible. Impossible."
"You know that thing where you withhold information everyone else needs to hear?"
"Yes, right. The signals we've been tracing for months and months, the same whatever it is – it's coming from this little guy. And that cut. There's a conflicting energy signal, some other residue, clinging to just that one focused location."
"Okay, but what's wrong with him?"
Rose unzipped her coat and pulled the bundled baby closer to her. He began to cry in earnest now, the pitiful wails interspersed with half-formed words.
"What's that he's saying?"
"Mummy. Man with red eyes hurt mummy," the Doctor whispered.
"What, do you speak baby now?" Rose gasped, rocking back and forth.
"I've always spoken baby," he frowned and scanned the little boy. "He's too cold. Much, much too cold."
"What type of person leaves a baby out on a doorstep like a bloody milk jug?"
"The type I dearly want a word with."
The Doctor stood straight, smoothed the front of his pinstripe suit, and wrapped hard on the door of number four.
Petunia Dursley had been experiencing an especially odd morning, which was the direct opposite of the type of day she was accustomed to having.
All morning, the strangest reports had been on the news. The delightful routine of breakfast and tea, complete with an early-morning romp with her darling husband, was marred by the unexpected visit from her little boy at the bedroom door. Now, someone was disturbing her as she finished mixing up the dough for fresh buttered scones.
This, of course, interrupted the only normalcy of her day, but, ever the impeccable house wife, she wiped the displeasure from her face and dusted her hands on her apron as she opened the door.
"Yes, may I help you?"
A hand held the identification for a Detective Inspector John Smith of Scotland Yard in front of her face. She barely registered the information listed there when its owner whipped it away.
"Yes, in fact, I think you can," said a slender, dark-haired, decidedly unhappy young man.
"You, madam, have a lot of explaining to do," said the blonde woman beside him.
Petunia backed away from the door to allow them entry, her eyes scanning the street for onlookers.
"I'm afraid I haven't an idea what you're talking about. And what's… What's that she's holding?"
"That's exactly what I want to know," the inspector said in a low growl. "Why was there a baby on your doorstep?"
Petunia's face paled. She pulled the woman over the threshold and shut the door against potential prying eyes. The two looked at her expectantly.
"Well, I don't know! He's not mine! My Duddykins is upstairs sleeping, still."
"A baby shows up on your doorstep, of all the boring old doorsteps on this street, and you don't have any idea as to why?"
The blonde glared at her.
"You don't recognize him?"
"No, I do not. Now please-"
"Who do we have the pleasure of addressing this morning?" the Doctor continued.
"Petunia Dursley. I've no idea who the little mongrel is, or where he came from, but he certainly isn't ours. We've only got one son."
"Right, then I'm sure you'll explain this," the Doctor raised a letter from the folds of the baby's blanket. The Doctor cleared his throat and pushed a pair of square spectacles onto his nose and slid a thumb under the emerald green wax seal with a flourish.
"Dear Mrs Dursley..."
It is my greatest regret to inform you Lily Elizabeth Evans Potter and James Charlus Ignatius Potter died the evening of thirty-one October, the two-thousand-and-second year of the Christian God, in defence of their son – your nephew – Harry James Potter.
Leaving behind neither will nor indication of their wishes, it has been determined that the safest place for Lily and James's child is with your family. It is imperative not only to his safety, but also yours and your son's, that Harry has a home with you until his seventeenth year.
On his eleventh birthday, it will no longer be your responsibility to care for the boy year-round. At that time, we will offer him a place at our venerable institution. In addition, so long as Harry's needs are met, a sum will be forwarded to your accounts appropriate to the maintenance of Harry's welfare at the end of every month.
In return for sharing your home, you will be guaranteed a reprieve from the evil that murdered your sister and so many of your friends and neighbours over the past several years. Turn him out, and there is nothing that can save you from the black veil of death. They know Lily Potter had a muggle sister. They know how to find you, your husband, and your son. They will offer no mercy, no quarter, to any of you. These villains are perpetrators of the darkest deeds. Only Harry can prevent this. Only Harry can save us all.
"It's not signed," the Doctor concluded. "Well. That's not quite what I expected."
"Lily-" Petunia half-gasped. Her hands shook, clenched in her apron. Her face cycled from bright crimson to sickly yellow.
"Later, Rose. Well, Mrs Dursley? What have you got to say for yourself?"
The waifish woman looked up and her lips pressed into a thin white line.
"Freaks! The lot of them! She goes and gets herself murdered and now they want me to take her demon spawn?"
Petunia backed away from the intruders. She looked between them both as if either would attack at any moment.
"I won't! You can't make me! I know what his kind are like! Did he send you? That mad professor? I can't do it and he can just-"
"Mrs Dursley, we're police officers of Scotland Yard. The Doctor and me wouldn't hurt you and we're not going to make you do anything. We just want to know what's going on."
"Rose," the Doctor whispered. "Give her some room. Let her be. There's more here than we thought."
He folded the letter back up and put it away to leave his hands open in a placating gesture.
"Please calm down, Mrs Dursley. As Rose said, we just want to know what's going on. You can understand. Imagine if you walked by and saw a baby on a doorstep."
Petunia sniffled and blew her nose into a pristine handkerchief.
"If-" she sniffled, "If you must."
Rose shifted her weight and bounced the baby in her arms for a moment as the thin woman regained herself.
"Now, this clearly states that the child's parents died on Halloween. Could you please tell me what you know of what may have occurred."
"I don't know. Lily… She said her kind were having a sort of war. It would have been either very violent or extremely peculiar." Petunia took in a shuddering breath. "They… They have a way of killing a person without leaving any damage to the body."
"What do you mean?" the Doctor pulled a slender, black leather-bound volume from his inside coat pocket.
He flipped it open and turned to the middle of the book.
"I don't know! Before I married Vernon, our neighbours down the street turned up dead in their parlour one afternoon and my father – he was a pathologist – he said the bodies didn't look like there was anything wrong with them. Perfectly healthy aside from being dead. He said he couldn't find any medical reason why they should be dead."
"And Lily told you it was these mysterious thems."
"And where were your sister and her family living when you last spoke?"
A strange expression came over Petunia's face.
"I… I think it was a little village somewhere."
"Can you please describe them for me?"
The woman developed a bit of a pinched look to her already wan face.
"Lily's pretty, I suppose. Our parents used to joke I got all the womanly instinct and Lily got all the womanly looks," she sneered. "My height, green eyes, dark red hair. She always wears – wore – it down unless she was studying."
"And her husband?"
"Tall, thin. Dark haired. Nothing at all like my strapping Vernon. Unpleasant sort."
"I think he had dark eyes."
The Doctor nodded and sighed as he scribbled in his notebook.
"Why don't we all sit down? I really do want to make sure we understand the entire situation. If this is indeed your nephew-"
"I wouldn't know. I've never seen him. I didn't even know she was pregnant."
Petunia led the way down the hall and to the sitting room. She perched stiffly on a floral wingback chair and gestured shortly at the sofa. Rose and the Doctor sat.
"Well, before we get any further, Rose, how's he doing?"
"Not blue anymore. Not shivering. He could probably do with a hot water bottle, though."
"I'll not have it touching any of our things. His kind are poisonous," Mrs Dursley spat."
Rose's eyes narrowed.
"He's just a baby. How could you say that? He's probably your nephew, too!"
"As far as I'm concerned, Lily ceased to be my sister the minute she chose them over me. They're all monsters! You couldn't possibly understand!"
"Shush!" the Doctor exploded. "Rose, stop provoking her. You'll not change her opinion. And you, Mrs Dursley. Right now, I'm assuming you're a mostly innocent bystander in all this, but don't think, even for an instant, that I'm not intensely angry that a baby was abandoned here on your doorstep sometime last night."
The young man glared at her for a long minute, then shrugged out of his overcoat and jacket. He helped Rose unravel the baby from his blankets and re-swaddled him in the Time Lord warmed garments. He sniffled and whimpered in Rose's arms.
"Now. Mrs Dursley, we'll leave you to your husband and your healthy, not-orphaned son once you've answered my questions. I think it's time you explained what you mean about Lily's kind."
The woman leaned away from her interrogators. Her knuckles went white as she fisted the pale yellow fabric of her apron.
"You're not going to make me keep him?"
Rose snorted and the Doctor coughed.
"That'd be criminal. I'd never impose you on him."
"Then I'd like you to leave. I'm done talking to you. I didn't leave the boy there and I don't want anything more to do with him."
The Doctor squared his shoulders and frowned down at the woman.
"I want to know what's going on! If the letter's true, there are people out to hurt the boy. Who are they? What does your family have to do with the invisible war?"
"I don't know what you're talking about and you're not welcome to stay! Take the little beast and get out!"
Petunia rose from the chair and marched down the hall to yank open the front door.
Rose and the Doctor shared a look of incredulity.
A man, having heard the noise and recently vacated the shower, thundered down the stairs to join his wife in the hallway.
"What's going on down here?"
"They won't leave, Vernon! They're like Lily and they won't leave!"
The huge man bristled and shoved the Doctor with his meaty hands.
"You heard her! Out! The both of you– I won't have any of that unnaturalness in my house!"
He stumbled out the front door as Rose gave a yell. Vernon had grabbed her arm to forcibly escort her out the door.
"Let go of me you bloody ugly bastard!"
He did, and the Doctor barely caught her before she and a crying Harry tumbled over the front step as well. The door slammed with a bang.
"I hope it is true!" Rose shouted at the shivering number four pinned to the doorframe. "I hope it's all true and you get yours!"
"How can they just abandon family like that?"
"Rose, he isn't their responsibility."
"I don't care!" she shouted, turning to glare at him. "How can they just dismiss-"
The Doctor sighed and grasped Rose's shoulders lightly.
"They don't want our help and we can't make that choice for them. Let's tend to Harry, okay?"
"What do we do, Doctor?" whispered the blonde.
She cuddled the boy close and rocked him gently. He had started squalling so loudly his face was nearly purple.
"Hush now, Harry," the Doctor said as he took him from Rose's arms.
The baby wriggled his arms free of the layers of coat and grabbed tight to the front of the Doctor's shirt. He settled into sniffling and whimpering and making a spot of moisture on the Doctor's blue t-shirt.
"So what now?"
Rose kicked a pebble out of her way as she walked. They had left number four behind them to wander slowly back toward Magnolia Crescent.
"I'm going to do a few more scans and report him to social services."
"But you can't. He'll just end up in a horrible foster home."
"He's pretty young. He'll probably get adopted by a perfectly lovely couple."
They turned the corner onto Magnolia Road. A deep blue car sat parked a little haphazardly on the curb. The Doctor got into the back seat with the baby and Rose sat behind the wheel.
"Why can't we keep him?"
"He's not a pet."
"You let Mickey hang around and you won't let me have a Harry?"
"It's not him, it's just-"
"Why can't we confirm he's alone and adopt him ourselves?"
The Doctor frowned into the rear-view mirror as he buckled himself up and readjusted little Harry to sit in his lap. The little boy sucked several of his fingers into his mouth. Rose started the car and drove down Magnolia road to the main street out of Little Whinging.
"Our life is a little dangerous for a baby."
"His parents were murdered and the murderers want to kill him, too. We can protect him better than anyone."
"We don't know that for sure."
"That cut's deliberate and you know it."
"We're not even married. Isn't that what humans do? Get married first before they have and or adopt children?"
"You're not all human, and I'm certainly not traditional."
"We travel a lot."
"We'll buy him a car seat."
The Doctor sniffed the baby as little Harry turned to look up at him and babble half-formed words.
"He smells like talcum powder and honey," he commented idly. "And he says his mummy calls him 'Jemmy'."
"Are you sure you're not having me on? You can really speak baby?"
"It's not so much speaking as mild telepathy, really."
"After all this time I still haven't a clue what you're on about sometimes."
"So, you really want to keep him?"
"Don't you?" Rose smiled at him.
Harry-called-Jemmy burbled a series of 'ma's.
"So if his mum called him Jemmy, what'd his dad call him?
Baby Harry babbled some 'da's. The Doctor tickled his belly.
"Prongslet. Apparently his daddy was part deer. Huh."
The blonde laughed.
"So? What now?"
"I've got a theory, now. Proper one. For ten years there have been three hundred and fifty percent more cold-case disappearances and murders throughout the UK.
"Considering the advances in human technology should have been able to keep up with the average criminal, not adding in the abilities of Unit and Torchwood, then we ought to conclude it's either an exceptional group of humans involved, or someone not human.
"Add in the unexplainable weather and natural disasters in the past two years, and we've got to conclude there's more than just humans responsible for it."
Harry had curled up against the Doctor's belly and started sucking his thumb in earnest. The Doctor stroked his downy hair.
"So… There are invisible forces fighting each other with the humans stuck in the crossfire."
"But the baby," Rose frowned. "He's not-"
"No he's not not human. Let's call him human, plus. There's something extra there. He's definitely generating a bit of what we've been tracing."
"So it still stands, though. He's in danger from not-humans or not-not-humans, and we're best equipped to protect him."
The car sped up as it joined the motorway toward London. She looked back at little Harry and a frowning Doctor.
"You said that no matter how long we live, you'll always regret abandoning me, right?"
"Of course. That's why the other me left me with you."
"So you'd never want me to feel that way, right?"
"Yes," the Doctor sighed. He looked away from Rose's gaze.
"If we leave him, I'll never forgive myself."
The Doctor looked down at the tiny face and closed his eyes against the bright emerald stare focusing on his drawn face.
"Well, then, Rose Tyler, I think it's time I asked you a question."
"What question is that then?"
The Doctor dug into Harry's bundle of coats for a moment. He held up a small velvet box so Rose could see it in the mirror.
"Will you marry me?"
The tires screeched as they narrowly avoided the concrete median.
"Are you serious?" Rose shouted. "You had to ask me now?"
"Always. Will you marry me, Rose Tyler?"
"Seven years. Seven bloody years and you ask me while I'm driving down the motorway?"
"Shh. You'll upset him," the Doctor mumbled as the Harry wiggled. "Will you? I've been waiting for the right moment."
"You've been carrying around a ring in that coat somewhere for how long?"
"Since he left me here."
"But why? I mean, of course, yes, but why? We've been fine without so far."
"Well, if we're going to raise a baby we ought to give him a proper –"
Rose let out a whoop of joy.
"Oh my God we're getting married!"
"Well, that's what generally happens when a boy, well, sort of boy, meets a girl and-"
Honks and horns and cursing rang across the motorway as Rose skipped three lanes of traffic to pull off the nearest exit and stop, screeching, by a convenience store.
"Come here and kiss me!"
"Anytime, Rose Tyler."
5 November 2002
"What do you mean, you're adopting? You're not even married!"
"Yes, we're doing that, too."
Rose smiled again, and tilted her left hand to catch her ring in the light. It was a delicate thing. It looked more grown than poured or cut or molded. Tendrils of burnished gold metal wound around her finger in a narrow woven band to curl tenderly around a dark blue stone.
"But your little brother's just barely started primary school!"
"So I've had plenty of practice, mum. It's time. More than time. So will you or won't you?"
"Won't I what?"
"Help me plan the thing."
"Well of course I will so long as I get some real say-so."
"When have you ever not, mum?"
"So what's the baby's name again?"
"Harry James Potter, but we've been calling him Jemmy."
"And you just found him?"
"Yeah. Some bloody horrible excuse for a person left him on a doorstep. We just happened to be walking by and we saw him."
"Who'd leave him outside? It's November!"
"Yeah, I know. He was half frozen when we found him."
"And there's no family?"
"There's no record of him anywhere."
"So how do you know his name?"
Rose rolled her eyes and passed a wooden spoon to Harry, who sat on the floor with the pots and pans spread around him. He immediately went to work 'stirring' the pots with exuberant banging sounds.
"What the hell is that noise?"
"Sorry mum! Got to go!"
Harry went on making music. Rose smiled at him and went back to sonicking the cupboards within a toddler's reach locked.
"Wouldn't you know? The Doctor finally figured out a setting for wood. Or at least, wood with metal hardware."
Harry went on banging things.
"Rose? What in the world is that racket?"
The Doctor, clad in his customary blue suit and trainers, came around the corner. Harry babbled.
"Jemmy wants to know where the cat is. Do we have a cat?"
"No. We could get one. Baby boy and a cat. Sound's almost proper, doesn't it?"
"One mortal Time Lord, one beautiful blonde, one not not human boy, and a cat. That's proper?"
"You know, Mickey told me your core trait was 'sassy' once. I think he's right."
"Sassy, am I?" The Doctor winked. "How's he doing?"
"Well, he's gone through several nappies, more than a few bottles, a jar of crushed peas, and a lot of Cheerios."
"I've finished toddler-proofing all the cabinets and cupboards, installed a baby gate, fixed a rolling and locking step for both sinks, set up a car-seat, built a play-pen-"
The Doctor took a deep breath and frowned.
"Why do you want to pen the baby?"
"Because there'll be times that we need him out of underfoot."
"Right, okay," he frowned and took a deep breath. "Put together a high chair, tied a swing up in the garden, phoned Mickey, went round to the neighbours for toys and books, and I may or may not have built a tree house."
The Doctor gave Rose a crinkly-eyed smile and a wink, twirled trusty screwdriver and sheathed it in his pocket. She rolled her eyes.
"What's he need a tree house for? He's not even two yet."
"Kids grow fast. Especially human kids."
"What about not not human kids?"
"Well. He's a bit bigger than a human one-and-four-month-old, and he speaks better, but other than that I think he's still in the normal range."
"What else did the scans say?"
The Doctor's expression darkened.
"He's definitely a little generator for not-not-humany things. I'll be running a few tests once he's fully recovered from near-hypothermia and cranial trauma."
"Please, don't remind me. If I ever find out who left him there I'm going to ring their stupid neck."
Harry stopped playing again to toddle over to the Doctor, who had taken a seat on a floor pouf by the kitchen entry.
"Spoon!" he merrily yelled.
"Yes that's a spoon, Jemmy boy. But what's it for?"
"Yes, stirring. Maybe you can help Rose and me stir up some kiddie cocoa later?"
"Babies can't have cocoa it's full of caffeine."
"Not real cocoa. Kiddie cocoa."
"If you say so."
"Co-co!" Harry squealed. "Mummy?"
His little face crumpled as he grabbed the Doctor's pant leg to steady himself. He bounced a little until the much bigger man pulled him up into his lap.
"Sorry chap, she's not here."
Rose sighed and bit her lower lip.
"Mummy!" Harry wailed.
The Doctor gathered Harry to his chest. Rose joined them both to stroke the child's downy black locks as he dissolved into pitiful cries.
"I know, Jemmy. I know."
14 June 2004
"Doctor, what're you doing?"
"I dunno. I think I'm watching telly?"
"Well, there's a floating biscuit in here."
"What do you mean a floating biscuit?"
The Doctor poked his head around the sitting room wall, his eyebrows raised in bemusement. A chocolate chip biscuit floated out of the kitchen and past him into Harry's waiting hands.
"Ah. I see," the Doctor laughed, turning to plop himself down on the carpet beside the toddler. "What's up Jemmy?"
"I wann'd bis-kit," Harry said, smiling around his stolen snack.
"Yes, yes I can see that." The Doctor whipped out his screwdriver and hooted. "This is brilliant!"
"Did he do that?"
Harry giggled and wrinkled his nose as he finished his treat.
"Sorry, Jemmy," the Doctor said, putting the device away again. "Can't give you one. You've got to get it yourself."
Harry frowned, his little pout puckering.
"No, don't look at me like that. You just got yourself one. Rose won't let me take one from the tin, so you'll have to do it again."
"Hush. I want to see," he whispered as he adjusted the setting on the screwdriver.
It whirred and hummed as Harry screwed up his face until his cheeks flushed. A little clink sounded in the kitchen and another biscuit sailed into Harry's pudgy little hands.
"Aha! Oh this is wonderful! Molto bene!"
"Is he an alien, Doctor?"
"No, no. The scan says he's still human-plus. Still a little Time Lord-y. But what he's doing is grabbing electrons, accelerating them, and bending them to his will."
"He's controlling the electrons in the air to-"
"Sneak a pre-supper snack, yes."
"We've a very talented son, Mrs Tyler."
"Oh, stop with that. Are you ever going to tell me your name?"
The Doctor popped the 'p' sound to make the word nearly two syllables long.
"It'd put the other me at jeopardy. You never know. Jemmy's capable of bending the very matter of this world to his will. Maybe people like him can read minds, too. Can't train you two to keep others out, so I can't say, sorry."
"The invisible war again?" Rose sighed. "I thought we were done investigating that."
"Actively, yes. Wouldn't want to risk our boy. Definitely something or somebody dangerous after the little guy, if we're to believe that letter."
"It's been years. If someone were after him, they would have shown up by now."
"Well our friends at Torchwood haven't seen anything around Number Four, but that could just be because they can't see anything."
"Should we be worried?"
Harry laughed as his adopted mummy joined him and the Doctor on the sitting room carpet.
"We're parents. We'll always have to be worried. 'Till the day we're so old we wrinkle up and dissolve."
20 September 2007
Harry "Jemmy" James Potter Tyler stared at the toes of his shoes. Around him, adults yelled and panicked and yelled some more.
"Please, I-" he began again, for what felt like the hundredth time in a half hour.
"Mr Tyler, you will be quiet!" Ms Candice Ruth, the deputy head teacher of Homefield Preparatory School, commanded.
"Are Mr Tyler's parents here yet?"
"Yes, we're here!" Rose cried, bursting through the door to join the others in the office.
She waddled a little bit, one hand cradling her heavily pregnant middle.
A man in a long brown overcoat and a well-cut suit followed after her, carrying a rucksack over his shoulder.
"What's this, then? Why are you all intimidating my son?" she demanded.
"Mrs Anderson, you've changed your hair," the Doctor quipped.
Harry shuffled his feet nervously and shifted in his chair.
"That's exactly what this is about, Doctor and Mrs Tyler," the sighed.
"Well, I think it's lovely."
Mrs Anderson gave a huff and crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's blue!" she shouted.
Rose glared at the woman as she pulled a thick azure plait over her shoulder.
"And Mr Tyler is responsible!"
"I did not! I couldn't have! Anyway you were horrible to me I just wanted to play with Jenny and Micah, too!"
"Jemmy, sweetheart, please wait a moment," Rose said firmly.
"Excuse me, madam, but we have it on camera," Ms Ruth said, gesturing to a computer screen. "One moment, Mrs Anderson is reprimanding Mr Tyler for fighting with Mr Dursley, and the next, Mrs Anderson's hair goes blue."
"And you expect me to believe my son did that?"
The administrator shrugged.
"It's very obviously retaliation, believable or not."
"Ah well, then there's only one thing for it, isn't there?" The Doctor said, clapping his hands.
"Is everyone involved in the incident here?"
Mrs Anderson frowned at Ms Ruth.
"We decided it'd be best if we kept this to ourselves at least until we sorted things out. The children think it was a joke on Mrs Anderson's part."
"Then this is an easy fix. Jemmy, darling?" Rose squeezed Harry's shoulder.
"It's time for all of them to forget about this. And please, do turn her hair back to normal. And don't think this is the end of it."
Harry's toes tapped a surly tattoo against the polished wooden floor.
There was a flash of light, a low whooshing sound, then a beat of silence as Rose and the Doctor moved to stand behind their son.
Mrs Anderson rubbed her forehead and frowned. Ms Ruth yawned and blinked.
"I'm sorry, what were we talking about?" she said.
Rose smiled politely.
"You were just letting us know Mr Dursley's been bullying my boy again, but you cut off mid-sentence. Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes. I just wanted you to know, he's been warned twice before, so he'll be suspended as of Monday morning. Further incidents and he'll be excluded."
"Thank you so much," said the Doctor. "We do so appreciate you keeping us up to speed."
"Yes. Thank you, Doctor and Mrs Tyler. You're free to take Harry home for the rest of the day."
"Yes, I think we will," the Doctor frowned.
Harry followed his parents as they filed out of the posh office, down the hall, and to their little blue car parked a little crookedly by the curb.
The Doctor helped Rose into the car, who had a little trouble squeezing into the front passenger seat.
"I am ready to explode. I tell you I'm a freaking planet."
"It'll be any day now. Soon if we're lucky."
"I've been wishing it along, too," Harry said from the backseat.
Now free from the tender mercies of his teachers, Harry's mood had rather transformed in the short walk between the office and the car.
"Don't think you've gotten out of a conversation," the Doctor scolded. "We've spoken about your psychokinetic abilities before."
"I just wanted to play. I didn't mean to. He pushed me down and Mrs Anderson didn't see, and she started yelling at me, and then I accidentally made her hair blue."
"That's understandable, Harry, but Mrs Anderson wasn't outside of her rights to give you a talking to," the Doctor reminded him. "You've got to take the time to explain yourself without loosing your cool. That's for humans."
"Oi, your pregnant wife says you're on the sofa if you keep this up."
"Humans except for your mum, then."
"And please keep in mind we don't want or like wiping people's memories. We make Unit and Torchwood file paperwork whenever they do, so you have to be responsible," Rose said. "Rather we never gave anyone cause to forget in the first place."
Harry's head slowly drooped as his parents spoke.
"How come I'm different in the first place? I don't want to be like this. Nobody at school likes me because they think I'm weird."
"Harry James Potter-Tyler, I won't any of that," Rose said firmly as she reached round to pat him on the knee.
"Your mine and you're perfect. And just like the Doctor, you'll grow up someday and use your differences to help people."
"Flatterer," the Doctor quipped.
The car slowed.
"Why are we at the hospital?" Harry asked with a shy smile.
"Your mum's water's broken and she hasn't even noticed. Time to meet your baby brother or sister."
"I hope they like me."
Rose grunted as a nurse helped her out of her seat and into a wheelchair.
"Of course they will," the Doctor smiled as he slung the rucksack over his shoulder again. "You're going to be a big brother after all. And what do big brothers and little babies do best?"
"I don't know." Harry slid out of his seat and took the Doctor's hand.
"Love and care for one another."
Nine and a half hours later, Harry curled up on the large bed beside his mother, who lay, sweaty and exhausted, against several pillows. She held a tiny pink bundle against her chest, in which nestled a slightly red baby girl. Wisps of ginger hair clung to her head. Tiny, perfectly bowed lips made a little 'o' as her little hand clung to her big brother's finger.
"What's her name?" Harry whispered. "She's so tiny."
"We thought you could name her," the Doctor said.
A huge smile stretched across his face. He perched on Rose's other side, his chest puffed out, one hand stroking Rose's lank hair.
"Really?" Harry's eyes widened as he looked into the little face. "What about Jenny?"
The Doctor and Rose exchanged a look.
"My daughter Jenny?" the man laughed.
"Jenny Renette?" Harry tested the name and smiled. "Like Madame de Pompadour and Jenny from school. She's always been nice to me. And Madame de Pompadour was really powerful you said."
"Yes. But why would I want to name my daughter after a girl who kissed my husband?" Rose complained.
"Well, my baby sister should grow up to be really powerful, too, right? And kind."
Rose laughed and rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Jenny Renette it is. When did my six year old get so persuasive?"
"Daddy's teaching me," Harry told her.
Rose laughed tiredly and kissed the boy on the forehead.
A/N: Expect updates every Tuesday until further notice. Thanks for taking the time to read and review. I always love hearing your feedback.