Disclaimer: I've got an old copy of 'Chamber of Secrets' and a home-made attempt at an imitation Sonic Screwdriver, they don't count. I don't own Harry Potter (J.K. Rowling), or Doctor Who (R.T.D., Moffat and whoever else does).

"Scarred Drums"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

"You're late," The dark-haired man with the green and gold eyes calmly sipped his tea, "I expected you almost a dozen years ago."

"I saw you die."

"Yes, several times, if I recall, so I'm surprised you thought this one would take. But please, old friend, can we dispense with the pompous self-rightousness? Just this once? After all, it's not every day that my plans come to fruition."

"You know I'll stop you."

"Stop me?" He laughed, "You inspired me! After all, why waste the effort in conquering when it's far easier to make them want you to lead them? You wouldn't deny your precious apes their freedom of choice, would you? Just because they chose me?"

"You lied to them."

"No," he shook his head with a faint smile, "I didn't. Everything that made up Harry Potter, everything that made up The Master, it all is a part of me. Our minds... are one."

Harry touched a finger to his temple, "Born of Lily and James Potter, created in the Looms, chosen to attend Hogwarts, looking into the Untempered Schism, it's all here. Neither of us could live. But together..."

Harry's smile widened, "You of all people, Doctor, should understand. It's simple justice, a cause you've championed for so long, The magical world and the Senate of Gallifrey both used me, manipulated me, so they could have power for themselves..."

The Doctor frowned, "And you don't share power."

"Oh, they almost made it," Harry replied, "Unfortunately for them, after Voldemort and Rassilon's plans were dealt with, Harry Potter and The Master both had to die at some point. Imagine how we felt in the place beyond time and space, beyond spells and potions and drumbeats, knowing that our entire lives were lies. We met, had a little party and developed a wonderful plan. The Master couldn't come back to life without bringing Gallifrey with him and that just wouldn't do, and Potter... Potter had such fury at how he was used, how they had done so much to him. Potter needed power, The Master needed to escape the link and we both needed a way back. Imagine it, Doctor, the most powerful magic-user in thousands of years and one of the greatest of Time Lords, all it took to return to life in a time to take our own freedom was to combine that. And look what happened; Me. Time Lord. Wizard. Magister. Potter. Saxon. Master."

"How could you do this?"

"It was too easy, such fun... I pitted armies of light and dark against each other, played the hero and the villian, forged alliances and broke families, I drank my fill of pain and washed my hands in rivers of blood!" Harry laughed.

"You're mad. Madder than you've ever been before."

"Oh, please, Doctor, spare me the hypocritical diatribe. You've killed entire races, burned planets, set beings to be tortured for eternity... I've simply taken one society into the firm guidance of my own gentle hand. I've eliminated war, predjudice, created a society of intelligent co-operation and unity from which all can profit. There's no more killing over 'blood purity', no more 'sub-human' classes... And in the end, it was all their choice; faced with the Dark, the Light, and the government, they chose to follow... me."

"I find that hard to believe. All you've done is create a utopia of oppression."

"Then please," Harry waved his hand at the set place across from him at the table, "Sit, listen, learn, but try to limit your habitual interruptions, hm, Doctor? I'm supposed to help see the children off to school later this morning and I have no desire to make my 'Mistress' cross. Brillant woman for having been born human. Scary when she gets in a mood, but brillant."

Author's Note; Yes, it's a Harry Potter/Doctor Who crossover from the Prince of Procrastination... I'd like to promise that updates would be regular, but beyond this prolouge, I have nothing written, nor any exact plans for the direction of the story. I suppose that I'll be writing more when I get the inspiration and mostly following Napoleon's Plan, 'First we show up, then we see what happens'. The only thing I can really say is pick the catchphrase of your favorite Doctor and shout it loud, because Here... Come... The Drums!