Archive of Our Own

Part 1 

Harry had always been a little different. Not quite the same as those that stood on what should have been equal footing. It was more than the shock of red hair and the squinting brown eyes. There was something more. Something that wasn’t quite…well, human. 

He had always been small for his age. At seven he was only the height of the average five year old and when he started Hogwarts he had been the hight of someone not quite nine. He was small and he remained so. Smaller than his class mates and then smaller than the new first years. It was only in Harry’s third year that there was finally someone in Gryffindor to take over the title of the littlest lion. 

Harry had thought it may be down to magic. To his starvation as a young child. He had thought that maybe he wasn’t such a freak. But there were other things. Other places where he didn’t quite fit.  

He was smart. Maybe too smart. Things made sense in a perfect pattern where others seemed utterly baffled. Of course this mostly extended to the muggle world. So that even when he was still in Primary school Harry had been using scientific theories that even A-Level text books didn’t touch on. Magic was different. More ambiguous. Less linear and step by step. It sometimes made Harry’s head hurt. But that didn’t stop him. It seemed that Harry could understand anything that he wanted to. If he tried hard enough. 

It wasn’t also just his height which made him younger. He felt it. Felt it so much more than his peers evidently did. The urge to take a nap. To keep his soft toys snuggled close, well, the one that he had. The tears that welled up in his eyes whenever a harsh word was spoken to him and the utter incomprehension of the very notion of puberty. 

If there had been an adult around, well, an adult who cared, they would have noticed. Noticed the fact that Harry was far from a normal little boy. Far from anything resembling a wizard or a muggle. They would have noticed the pocket watch. But they didn’t. Not until it was too late. 

The green spell had hit Harry right in the centre of his chest. The words of death echoing through the forest that had fallen silent. He had fallen to the floor. A thud at the impact. Yet, it hadn’t happened instantly. Although what ‘it’ was meant to be, Harry wasn’t sure. But he knew that something was coming. 

His body seemed to vibrate. His limbs cramping and pain screaming a him. He fought through it. He didn’t have time for this. He ended to end the battle as quickly as he could. As he stepped from Hagrid’s arms. As he the magic of two wands clashed. As the Dark Lord thudded to the floor with finality. Harry knew it was coming. What he knew more than anything else was that he needed to get away. Not here. He couldn’t do it here. His mind was screaming at him. 

Harry ran. A spur of magic popped him further. His feet landing, stumbling under themselves, his breath coming fast and his body screaming a him. The watch that was still in his pocket burned. The metal scalding through his trousers pocket. Burning his skin. Harry clutched at it. 

The skin on his hands was peeling off from the heat of the metal. The pattern being burned into his skin. Harry didn’t care. His eyes could only stare. Patterns he had never seen before. Runes that he somehow recognised. Harry clicked the pocket watch open. Gold engulfed his vision. Harry screamed. 

The next morning Harry had woken up anew. A different body, a different face, a different age. When Harry had woken in the forbidden forest, his only thought had been to run. 

All his money taken from Gringots, even as his face was still coated in the blood of a body that was no longer his. He had run without any really aim in mind. Until he collapsed in a Potter Property that even he hadn’t know that he had owned. Cardiff. The perfect place to keep himself hidden. There was no wizarding population there. Barely a trickle of magical energy. 

It was only then that Harry had managed to look at himself. Only then that he caught a glimpse of his new face, his new life.

He was small. So small. The height of an eight year old. His body looking like the child that his mind so often screamed at him to be. Green eyes, the colour of the curse which had killed him. Hair blacker than midnight, to his shoulders. His skin paler, his body weaker. 

Yet there was one thing that had remained the same. One thing that was the same now, even as he walked through the streets of Cardiff. Burned into his skin even as his body had changed. The runes of a language long forgotten from a watch left on a forest floor. In the palm of his hand. The only thing that remained old his old life. The burned scars of a person that he would never be again. 

It had been ten years. Not that Harry looked ten years older. His body had seemed to age only a fraction of the time that passed. Harry looked about a year older, if that. He had had to be careful. Avoid detection. He couldn’t risk someone finding him. Finding out that there was something wrong with him. Especially now. 

Torchwood. Their constant search for the paranormal. Ripping apart the city to find what they were looking for. The thrumming of tension in the air and the drumming. The constant drumming. Four beats. Over and over as thought they were in the very air. The last month it seemed that the four punches had saturated the very air that the people of the United Kingdom breathed. 

But there was something else. The reason that now found Harry running. The little blue box. The one that now sat in the middle of Cardiff. Harry had seen it before. Felt it before. But there it was again. Screaming to him. Desperate and hungry. Harry felt that he wanted to sob. Relief and frustration as he saw the wooden exterior once again. 

But before Harry could get close enough, there was someone else there. A man, with longer legs running faster. 

“Doctor” the word was shouted. Harry recognised the voice. He froze. The man was from torchwood. The man who should not be.  

“Doctor!” louder this time. 

Yet even as the man ran forward the box began to disappear. The man just felt so wrong. But suddenly he was gone. Just as the box was. The world began to spin again. Normal and regular. For all of about ten seconds. 

A hand shot out and surrounded his wrist, another on his shoulder, a back pressed against Harry’s own. Harry wriggled and pulled, but the grip was just too strong. He couldn’t get out of it. An arm was around his chest and in the hand that had been freed there was a needle.  

His heart was hammering as he attempted to find an escape. But there was no way out. His body to too weak and his magic far too volatile. His whole body was shuddering. No escape, no escape, no escape. A needle in his arm. Darkness overtook him. 

Harry woke. His head still fuzzy and tears already threatening the corners of his eyes. His emotions were feeling particularly volatile; his mind not recovered from his impromptu travel. Harry took a shaky breath, looking around the room with his heart in his throat. 

The room was…well, it was nice. It felt, homely even. The walls were painted a soothing green, forest green, maybe. Or at least that was what Harry had heard it called. It just looked green to him. The bed he was in was obviously intended for the small body that he had as his legs were near the end. The blankets were wrapped tightly around him. There were paintings on the green wall; a forest scene, animals, birds trees; even some creatures that Harry didn’t recognise.  

Harry stood up from the bed feeling a little nervous as his feet met with a plush and comfortable carpet. This room was so nice. Harry seemed to have forgotten his fear of the new place as he looked around in awe. 

And…was that a toy box? 

Pushed against one wall was a large box of toys, the lid open and the box overflowing with a variety of colour and textures. Harry couldn’t resist and he was soon pulling out as many toys as he could, tossing them all over the floor and sorting though what was there. 

Soft toys, dolls, action men, duplo blocks, fake swords, jigsaws; anything you could think of. Harry couldn’t remember even seeing most of these toys. He knew that he had never held them before. Before he knew it Harry was immersed in a fantasy world. The Queen fought off the dragon as her knights backed her up. The castle was destroyed, the queen died and the princess had to flee. A dog joined her on her journey as she traveled through the forest. 

“Where’s she going?” a soft voice questioned. Harry whipped around quickly, dropping the princess and her trusty companion, shocked by the voice that had managed to creep up on him. A man stood leaning in the doorway of the bed room, a totally straight face. 

He was tall, Harry noticed. But to Harry almost everyone was tall, so he could really have been any height. He had dirty blonde hair and a light scattering of stubble. He was dressed more formally than most Harry had seen; a black suit and tie. 

However there was something. Harry really didn’t know what it was; inexplicable. It was as though his very being was tugged toward the man. Like thee blue box, so much energy thrumming from the man. Harry looked at it closer. What was he? 

Harry let out a whimper small enough that even he could barely hear it. The drumming. It was drumming; the drumming that had been thrumming around London for the past month. This was where it was from. Over and over, the never ending beats of four. 

The man moved and as though snapped from a trance the drumming stopped, no longer ringing in his ears. But Harry knew, if he pushed, that the sound was still there. It had always been there, it always would be. 

The man was closer to Harry now and even with his fancy suit he kneeled before the small boy. The brown eyes looked at him. Harry couldn’t pin the emotion there, but it wasn’t a bad one. 

The man picked up the doll Harry had dropped. “Where was she going?” 

Harry shifted slightly. The man’s gaze was intense. “The forest” Harry whispered in response. 

“Why the forest?” The man tilted his head as through he really was interested. 

“The wizard.” Harry’s voice was so quiet it was hard to hear. “The wizard will help her to get her kingdom back.” 

“And the dog?” The man lifted up the black plastic dog. 

“She’s lonely” Harry smiled sadly as he looked at the dog in the man’s hands. “It’s not nice to be lonely. Everybody needs friends.” 

The man hummed and examined the small shaped lump of plastic, before setting it upright back on the carpet. He looked up to Harry and then back to the dog. 

“Well how about you be the princess and i’ll be the dog and we can find the wizard together.” The man’s tone was serious as his face was, however there was nothing mocking in it. He seemed fully serious with his proposal. 

Harry had never played with anyone before. He nodded, picking up the princess. 

“The wizard is over the mountain” Harry whispered. 

“Let’s go then.” The man said. 

Harry didn’t know how long he had been playing with the man, but i seemed that both had been lost in the world of make believe. The wizard, along with the princess called for the dragons and stormed the castle. The wizard fell, but the princess rescued him. The dog remained at the princess’ side and in the end the wizard and the princess got married and rebuilt their kingdom together. It was just as the two were preparing to explore new lands as a couple, that Harry’s stomach made a rather loud gurgling. 

“Hungry?” The man asked, his tone still serious. He had seemingly not wavered from the seriousness even as he took the role of dragon soaring through the sky. 

Harry nodded hesitantly before looking up at the man. 

The man looked at his watch. “Well it is rather late. We should probably go and find something for dinner. Come along then Harry.” 

“How do you…” Harry started without really thinking. 

“Your name?” the man smiled for the first time. “The same way that you’ll know mine if you concentrate. Just look at me and you’ll know.” The man was still smiling. 

Harry concentrated on him. He could hear the drumming almost instantly. But there, in the drumming, there was something else. Names shimmering to the surface. Not in a language that Harry had ever seen before. Yet the words, they seemed familiar. Just like with parsletonge, it just seemed to appear in his mind. 

“There are two….I don’t know which…” 

The man’s smile got even wider at that. “What a powerful time-tot you are, little one.” It then seemed that the man was talking to himself and Harry was left questioning what a time-tot was. “Powerful indeed, especially on a second regeneration so young and to be living alone. Powerful powerful powerful….” The words made no sense to Harry.  

“So which one…?” Harry looked at the man still muttering slightly. 

“Neither” The man clapped his hands together. “You’ll be calling me Dad from now on.” The man’s grin was near manic and Harry only gaped at the other. Dad? 

The room he had been taken to for dinner had a small table in it, four seats, and a kitchen that seemed equipped with pots, pans, bowls and a fancy looking coffee maker. It appeared the house was not a large one, not that that mattered when Harry had been living in the empty abandoned Potter house, spending money when only when he had to, to avoid detection. This was luxury. 
Harry ate his dinner quickly, not realising how hungry he had been and not remembering the last time he had had a hot, fresh meal. It had been at least six months. The food was delicious. Pork sausages and vegetables with mashed potatoes and gravy. 

“How old are you then, little tot?” The man, dad?, questioned as he looked up from his plate. Harry began to panic. His eyes wide, his heart, hearts, beating a little faster in his chest. That was a question that he avoided. One that was always lied about. However, he had a feeling that the man would know if he was lying.

“I’m..um, eight” Harry forced from behind clenched teeth. Eight seemed about right, didn’t it?  

The man laughed. A bark of a laugh that had Harry’s face flat and his eyes wide in confusion. 

“Well that’s impossible. You’d still be crawling and crying at eight. You may look like a human eight year old, but a timelord eight year old” the man interrupted himself with a laugh. “Absurd” 

He looked at Harry again. But Harry’s mind was working overtime. What was a timelord? Was that what he was? Was that why he was the way he was? His late development, his childishness, his utter lack of anything resembling a sex drive? 

“Timelord?” Harry wondered aloud, his voice with a tint of awe. 

“Timelord, yes, our childhoods are rather longer than those scum that The Doctor loves so much.” The name was spat with hatred. Doctor? Wasn’t that the name that the  anomaly had yelled at the blue box? was he another timelord too? “Stupid TARDIS means we're stuck here for at least a year though. I would show you so much if I could. A time-tot needs to explore everything before its old and predictable.” The man’s eyes sparked. Was that what insanity looked like? 

“Time-tot?” 

“Yes a-Oh.” The man stopped and stared at the little boy. “You don’t know do you. Well, I suppose that makes sense, you wouldn’t would you. But I thought…” The man looked at him again before rising from his seat and walking toward Harry’s small form. 

He took Harry’s hand in his own. “Feel” The small hand was pressed against the left of the man’s chest. Thump Thump, Thump thump. There was enough time for Harry to feel the heartbeat. Then the hand was moved, placed on the right. Thump Thump. The same. Thump Thump. Two heartbeats. Two hearts. The man released the hand. 

“We’re the same?” Harry whispered near reverently. 

The man hummed. “We are. The last of the timelords.” The man got a look closer to melancholy. “Now little time-tot, tell me how old you are. We can start there.” 

“Twenty seven.” Harry said, never looking away from the brown eyes. 

“So young.”

Harry didn’t really know what time the man placed him back in the forest green room, but he did know that his head hurt and the world, no the universe, seemed so much bigger. He was a timelord with a lifespan that was near infinite. He wasn’t even a he, not really. His current body was, but that meant nothing. He could change into almost anything. But there was one thing  that was certain. He was Harry, always and forever. Just Harry. Harry didn’t know if he could express the gratitude he felt at being given that. 

“The dragon sitter, or the twits?” 

What? Harry blinked up at the man who had just set his tired body on the bed after forcing it to brush its teeth and put on some new pyjamas. The man had pulled two books from the small bookcase on one wall and held them in his hands. 

“We’ll start one book tonight and then read it every night until its done. Then we can start a new one. Apparently it’s what fathers do for their sons.” The man’s tone was slightly pompous even as Harry felt the uncertainty underneath it.  

Harry blinked up at the man. Still not really understanding. 

“What book would you like tot?” The man asked again. 

“Umm, well, I do like dragons.” Harry mumbled. 

“Well, the dragon sitter it is then.” The man smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Lie down and we’ll start.” Harry did and the man started. “From Edward Smith-Pickle to Morton Pickle….” 

Harry listened as a dragon destroyed a house and caused a little girl to cry; more and more problems and more and more adventures. Harry listened to the soothing voice, and before he knew it he was having to keep his eyes open by force of will alone. 

“That’s enough for tonight little tot.” The man hummed. “We can read more tomorrow.” The man pressed a kiss to Harry’s head. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Harry stared after the man as he closed the door. He was strange, maybe a little crazy and definitely insistent on having a role in Harry’s life. But he had red him books and played with him. He had fed him delicious food and told him what he really was. 

The man may be peculiar, but Harry thought that maybe, just maybe, the man was his. 

Harry woke up a few hours later, he didn’t know how long, but he woke up screaming and sweating, his body shaking and flashes of green; dead face after dead face. Everyone that he had ever known was there, lifeless, sightless eyes. Tears came to his eyes and Harry stared crying in earnest. 

Harry knew that the bathroom was down the hall and to the left and as of that moment he wasn’t sure as to whether he was going to throw up or if he needed a glass of water. He needed the bathroom anyway. He swayed down the hallway, tears still coming and his whole head feeling a little blurry. 

“Tot?” It was his man. Harry looked up and tears welled up in his eyes to replace those running down his cheeks. “What’s wrong?” 

The tears kept coming. His man knelt down, pulling the little time-tot tightly into his arms. Harry didn’t know when he had last felt such a loving hug. His tears came harder. He clutched tightly at the material of his mans clothes which were no longer a suit, but rather something softer and fluffier. Harry curried his face in it. 

“Come on Tot, I think some cocoa will make you feel a little better.” 

His man walked down the rickety stairs, with Harry still tightly clutched in his arms. The man went to put him down, but Harry only clutched more tightly to the pyjamas the man was wearing and refused to let go of him. His man made the hot chocolate around him and both were soon sitting in one chair, sipping at the two mugs. 

“You want to talk about it?” His man questioned. 

Harry shook his head and merely pulled the chocolate closer to his mouth, sipping at the hot milk mixture. It was warm in his hands and it soothed the nightmares. 

“Alright tot. Finish your chocolate.” 

Harry did and sipped slowly as the man sipped at his own. Harry didn’t move from his man’s lap. It was too soon when the man set his mug on the table and Harry’s own was finished. 

“We need to go back to bed, Harry.” His man stood up, with Harry still in his arms. 

Harry thought that he might start to cry again. He didn’t want to go back to sleep. The faces would be there, with their dead accusing eyes. Harry clutched his fingers tightly in the fluffy material and shook his head aggressively. 

His man sighed. Harry tensed. Had he disappointed him? Was he going to be made to leave now? Harry started to shake again. 

It was as though the man hadn’t noticed, although Harry was sure he had. His tone was even and his face straight. “I suppose that you can sleep in my bed if you want to. It’s not as though you will take up that much room.” 

Harry’s whole body relaxed once more; as though a weight had been lifted. 

“Okay” Harry sighed and the man, his man, took him to his room, tucked him in and placed a kiss on his forehead. Harry was asleep almost instantly. He didn’t have any more nightmares.    

Harry hadn’t realised that they weren’t in the UK anymore until several days after he had arrived. The morning was one like the others were, in that they sat down for breakfast, the man had a coffee and read the paper, while reading the interesting news out to Harry. 

“I think maybe we should go out today Harry. There’s a park pretty close to here. You might enjoy that?” The man was collecting the bowls and putting them in the dishwasher as he spoke. 

Harry only gave a nod. He was still a little nervous around the man, but he was getting better. The man, his man seemed a little unpredictable and every now and then his eyes would spark with  something, that if directed at him, Harry would have been terrified of. However it never was. It was always when talk of Timelords arose; when the man spoke one called the Doctor. That was when the flicker of malice mingled with madness. 

“Well let’s go then. It’s only a short walk. But it’s a little cold so let’s get you wrapped up.”  

Harry was lead to the front door which he had not yet been through. A blue coat was handed to him and while he pulled it on a hat was tugged onto his head and a scarf wound around his neck. Finally he was handed a pair of gloves and he pulled them onto his hands. 

“Let’s go” They walked through the door and a cold wind greeted them. Harry was glad for the coat, as the wind only buffered off the material. He couldn’t repress his small smile. It was nice to be warm in the cold. 

The walk was indeed short, however that didn’t stop Harry noticing that they were not where he had thought. The buildings were different, the people looked different and the air…it just didn’t quite taste the same. Some people were speaking english, but others; Harry didn’t quite know the syllable sounds. He sniffed at the air, his fingers running through invisible lines in the air. 

“Norway” Harry found himself mumbling. He didn’t know where the word came from. “We’re in Norway?” It felt right, even though Harry only had a very vague idea of where Norway even was. 

“Well done, little tot. We are indeed in Norway, Harstad to be exact. That’s quite impressive for one so young. You really have a grasp of your powers don’t you.” The man carried on walking; Harry by his side. 

Harry had learned about his powers over the past few days, the man had told him about them. Apparently all timelords had them. They had something that they could do. Some psychic abilities were common in most timelords and his man in particular had a talent for hypnosis and mind control. Some could literally see the flow of time around them, others the time of beings, how long they had left and when their final days were to come. The elders had been said to be able to manipulate the very fabric of the universe and form it into what they pleased. Harry hadn’t mentioned his magic to the man, not that he was sure it even was magic now, he didn’t know what power he might hold within him. 

They reached the park. It was a good size, a football field of grass on one side and a climbing tower, slides, swings and monkey bars on the other. 

Harry looked up to his man. “Can I…?”

“Of course tot. Just don’t fall off anything. I’ll wait over here.” He pointed to where some of the benches were along with other parents? guardians? adults? Whatever they were. 

Harry cast a glance back at his man, who  was indeed sitting himself on one of the benches, then he ran toward the playground. He climbed up the tower, swung on the swing, slid down the slide. But every now and then Harry would cast his glance back toward the bench and his man sitting there.

Harry had just got off the swing for the second time when he cast his eyes over, just a precaution. Was that the wrong bench? Harry was sure his man had been sitting there. But now, he wasn't. Where…where was he? He hadn’t left, wouldn’t have left. Harry’s hearts started to beat a little faster. 

He ran over toward the benches even as his feet were becoming unsteady and his mind was screaming at him that it had happened again. He had lost his person again, he had been left again, he had no one again. His man was not there.

Not there. Not there. Not there. 

Without even noticing Harry had squeezed his eyes shut and his breathing was far too fast. A panic attack was in full swing by the time Harry opened his eyes again. He couldn’t breath. His man was gone and he couldn’t breath. 

The world froze. Not just like it does when one is panicking and everything seems to slow. No, the world literally froze. Everyone stopped moving and the world was at a stand still, at least the part of it that Harry was in. Even the birds in the sky were frozen in place. That did nothing to calm  Harry down. 

The time-tot only curled to the muddy grass beneath him and began to rock back and forth. The world was frozen and his man was gone. Maybe he should just die. Maybe he should just destroy everything along with him. There was nothing here for him, nothing and no one. 

The world around Harry began to shudder, lightly at first but slowly more and more aggressively. The people still remained frozen but the ground, as though in response to Harry’s thoughts was shuddering. If anything could have moved then things would have begun to shatter at the shaking, falling to the floor and crumbling. 

A pair of arms was around him suddenly and his man’s voice was there. 

“It’s okay tot. I’m here.” A soothing hand ran across his back. “You need to calm down Harry. You need to breath. I’m here.” 

The shaking slowed. 

His man picked him up and Harry clutched tightly to the coat he was wearing. 

The shaking stopped. 

“That’s it little one. Get that breathing under control and keep calm.” The hand rubbed up and down his back. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

As soon as it had stopped again it started again, the noise of adults talking and children screaming as they ran from each other. It was as though nothing had happened, as though the world was not nearly on the verge of destruction. 

“Lets go home Harry.” Harry only nodded into his man’s chest and clutched tighter at his coat. 

Three months had passed and there had been four more occurrences of Harry’s time stops. If he panicked, got lost, frustrated or angry then time would freeze. If he started to think about anything destructive during the freezes then the very atoms of the universe would begin to shake in fear as they tried to follow the demands of Harry for them to separate. 

Thankful it never got far. His man would be there to pick him up and reassure him. He would be sure to tell him that everything was okay, to explain to him the problem, or to take him down from his tantrum. Harry was also getting better at deescalating the situation himself. He would take deep breaths and try to stop himself before freezing the world in place. 

“Good morning tot.” Harry was greeted as he sat down at the table. 

“Morning” Harry smiled shyly as he grabbed a slice of toast and his glass of milk. 

“We’re going to be doing Chemistry today” His man slipped a page of the paper. “I talked to Professor Allen and she said you can sit in as long as you don’t touch any of the chemicals. Only I’m allowed to do that. You can take notes though.” 

Harry smiled and took another bite from the toast. He was excited for the day. 

It had started around two months ago and now Harry and his man were attending different university lectures every day. At first the professors had been sceptical, but with a mixture of money, hypnosis and a set of beautifully forged records Harry Saxon and his father Harold were allowed to attend any lectures that they wished to. Starting this week was Chemistry. 

Harry had forgotten how exciting it was to learn new things and ask new questions. As he sat there and listened to theories and watched experiments he was riveted with every second. His man had also encouraged individual reading and so Harry had piles upon piles of books taller than him. 

That didn’t mean that they didn’t stop and have time to play though. Anytime after four and the entirety of the weekends was fun time. Games, parks, ice creams and trampolining. Apparently even timelords needed fun. Harry wondered if it was something that his man had missed out on. It certainly seemed so.  Time-tots also had bed times of eight. Not that Harry was complaining. He always feel asleep as soon as his story was finished. 

“We better go. The first lecture starts at nine and we don’t want to annoy Professor Allen.” 

Harry nodded and rushed to the car, pulling at the handle until he heard the click of the lock and pulled the door open. He clipped his belt on and bounced his leg against the floor of the car in anticipation. He had been looking toward the chemistry lessons all weekend. 

His man got in the car and they were off. The university was only a twenty minute drive away and the radio chatter drowned out the time. They were pulling into a parking space quicker than Harry had expected. 

The time-tot dove out of the car, his man following behind him with a small smirk as the boy nearly danced toward the Chemistry department. Harry insisted that they sit at the front of the class and he took out his notebook, spreading them over the workbench. It took a while but soon the rest of the students were there and as usual were looking at Harry with bemusement.

Professor Allen, or Sophie as she insisted being called, entered shortly after. 

“Good morning everyone. Today we’re going to be looking at….”   

And so the lesson went. The two hour block went far too quickly, but Harry loved it all. He was soaking up the information like a sponge. 

“Excuse me Professor Allen” Harry approached the teacher nervously at the end of the lesson. 

“Sophie please” the woman smiled. “What can I help you with Harry? Did you and your dad enjoy the lecture?” The woman smiled at Harry’s man before turning back to the boy. 

“It…It was very good. Thank you.” Harry smiled. “But I’m not sure I quite understand this part.” 

The young timelord pulled out his notes and pointed out his problem. The Professor was only too happy to help and fifteen minutes later Harry had a far greater understand of the lesson than he first thought that he had. 

“Well I best be off” Sophie smiled. “I have another lecture to be at. I hope to see you in my afternoon classes Harry.” 

Harry nodded in response “We’ll be there.” he smiled. He really loved learning. 

His man ruffled his hair and they walked from the room, across campus and to the library. Today was one of Harry’s study days and he was allowed to read any of the thousands of books that littered the shelves of the university library, as long as he stopped for an hour at lunch time. Harry roamed along the shelves trying to find what he wanted for the next few hours. He wondered how long it would take to read all the books in the library. He smiled, he had all the time in the world to try. 

“Ah, um…ah…” Harry stumbled over the word he was trying to get out. It wasn’t like he had ever said it before, he hadn’t ever had the chance before his parents were killed and yet now here he was, every other avenue tried with this the only one left. 

He and his man were at a group discussion on the ethics of certain medical or medically justified  practices. Although these were Harry’s lessons, his man tended to get involved in subjects that interested him and the theoretical discussion of the death penalty seemed to be one of those subjects. Not that Harry had been complaining, in fact he had learned a lot.

However as the discussion had grown to a close it seemed that others in the room were also intrigued as to his man’s opinions as Harry was. The man had been mobbed by eager ethicists and medical students alike with questions and invitations for a debate in a different location. Harry had been pushed to the side. 

He had tried to push his way through but their legs were too long and his were too short. Calling the man’s name had failed, at least his fake name, as everyone else was using it, and Harry knew it was unwise to use either of the mans other names. He could feel it in the very essence of his being. Harry couldn’t freeze time again, well he could, but he had been working on self control and didn’t want to ruin all his hard work over something so stupid. 

There was really only one other way to get the man’s attention and it was taking all of Harry’s  courage to try it. The word just wouldn’t seem to work. 

A man walked closer to his man, getting in his personal space and resting a hand on his shoulder. Harry’s eyes widened and he felt anger in his throat. That man was his, his! He had fought for him, he had a right to him. They were the same and he didn’t belong to anyone but Harry. 

“DAD!” Harry yelled as loud as his lungs would allow and if a little ground shaking magic was released, well, it wasn’t his fault. The people around his person seemed to freeze and part as though pushed to the side. 

“Sorry tot” the man smiled at the small boy. “Dad just got caught up talking. We’ll go now.” 

It was like a switch after that day. At first it was to get the man’s attention, ‘Dad, where are you?’ becoming a rather common thing to be heard around the house. Then it was to talk about him to his professors ‘Oh yeah, Dad took me to the library so I read about that.’ or ‘Dad explained it to me a little, but I still don’t quite get it.’ However four months after his first ‘dad’ Harry was calling his person his dad even within his own head. 

Harry had a dad now. 

Harry had been with his person, his dad, for a year now, exactly a year if he had thought about it, which he didn’t. However his dad did and as Harry made his way down the stairs that morning his eyes widened and his heart stuttered. 

There were presents sitting on one chair in the kitchen, wrapped in blue and silver paper. The table was covered in a variety of food and the man himself was in his customary chair, but without his customary newspaper. Harry’s dad stood up. 

“Now, I don’t believe in celebrating the pagan ritual of Christmas and find the notion of celebrating one’s own birth a little self indulgent even for my tastes. However…” the man paused and smiled at Harry. “I do think the day of our meeting is something that really should be celebrated.” 

“But, I didn’t…” Harry cast a gaze over at the presents in the pile. He hadn’t got anything for his dad! 

“Don’t worry tot.” His dad ruffled his hair and smiled. “You’re enough. I don’t need anything else.” 

Harry felt his cheeks heat up, his heart swell and tears in his eyes. Time stuttered still, Harry overcome with emotion and unable to control his powers; neither of them took any notice. 

“Well tot, do you want to have breakfast first, or open presents?” His person smiled at him. 

“Presents” Harry squealed. Time’s heart beat once more and Harry sounded his age for what may have been the first time in his life. 

“Presents it is then.” His dad agreed. 

Harry unwrapped his first ever presents from his father with excitement that just couldn’t be contained. He ripped off wrapping paper and threw boxes around the room in the true style that time-tot should. His father only looked at him with an indulgent smile and a twinkle in his eyes that was definitely not insanity. 

Harry got books, for his studies and for fun, he got some more soldiers to help his princess in her ongoing journey with her wizard and dog. He looked at the figures in his hand with a smile and held it up to his dad. 

“She’s the Princess’ new best friend.” 

“What's her name?” 

Harry stopped for a second. “Moana.” He said decisively. 

“Like the movie?” his father asked bemusedly. 

Harry nodded. 

“Well, she’ll have to take the princess to see the sea, won’t she.”

“They can take the dog too.” Harry nodded. 

“I hope they have a good time. We can play with them tonight if you want. But I have some plans for today.” 

Harry put Moana back on the chair. “Plans?” 

“Well, I thought that we could go to the zoo. I know you wanted to practice your speaking skills on some of the other animals.”

“The bears” Harry agreed, nodding.  

“Lunch, then there’s a new exhibit at the art museum.” 

“Renoir?” Harry grinned and his father nodded. 

“Then we can cook dinner tonight and I know you were looking at that castle cake to try out, so shall we do that?” 

Harry nodded and smiled. “Sounds perfect.” 

And the day was absolutely perfect. Harry talked to both the bears and lizards, both being a bit of a struggle to learn just from the way that the spoke. Unlike snakes, bears were rather more about sounds and scents than actual words, so it had taken a while. The lunch was delicious, the art beautiful and the dinner was great. The cake had been a bit of a mess, the towers wonky and the dragon’s face was smushed, but it tasted delicious. 

It was the most perfect day of celebration that Harry had ever had. Not a birthday where it was merely a formality, not Christmas where he didn’t have his own family to spend time with. No, this was a good celebration; one with him and his father and their celebration of each other. 

Part 2 

Three people popped into existence with panic heavy on their breath. They had escaped with barely enough time to spare, a second later and they would have had their throats ripped out. They looked at each other with panicked eyes. 

“Can’t believe we made that jump” The one in the long blue coat and suspenders spoke; Captain Jack Harkness, immortal alien from far in the future. “Talk about lucky.” 

“Wasn’t luck. That was me.” Doctor, alien, last of the timelords scoffed, his face searching the streets for something other than a witty comeback. 

“Well at least I got stuck with you then” Jack smiled his signature smile. “That’s the trick for getting stuck at the end of the universe I suppose.” 

“But wait” Martha Jones, human thank you very much, spoke up. “This Master bloke, he could have gone anywhere. There’s the whole universe out there.”  

“No he’s here” The doctor’s face was dark and brooding. He was thinking, remembering. This was bad. The Master was back and he was running around Earth. Bad bad bad.  

“But who is he then?” Martha frowned. “His voice was different.” 

“Well if he’s a timelord he must have regenerated.” Jack said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He’s changed his face, he could look like anyone. There’s no way we can find him.” 

“I’ll know” the doctor said in a low voice. “As soon as I see him. I’ll know. Timelords always….” 

The Doctor froze and stared wide eyed where they had been walking down the street. Jack almost walked past him, but stopped just as suddenly. 

Martha looked in shock “No, It can’t be, that’s…” 

The Doctor ran forward like a bullet from a gun, pulling the key from his coat and pushing the door open as quickly as he could. It was a TARDIS, his TARDIS. The console hummed in greeting and the Doctor couldn’t visit running his hands across every inch of her beauty. Nothing seemed wrong. But why was she here? Why had the master left her? It seemed impossible to even comprehend. The Master would not have just left a fully functioning TARDIS without something more important coming up. But what was so important?  

Martha and Jack stepped in behind him. 

Jack spoke, “Is she okay?” 

“Fine” the Doctor was almost grimacing. “Nothing seems wrong with her, nothing out of place, just…” 

The Doctor pressed a button. The doors clicked shut and a voice echoed round the control room. 

“Well hello there Doctor, a pleasure I’m sure.  New body, new me and all that. Well I thought that I’d try and stick with it this time. No plans to kill you or anything, no taking over the world. I promise.” The man paused. “I pinky promise, in fact. Nothing at all. Just take your TARDIS and off you pop. Go explore and I’ll hopefully not see you for another millennia at least. Bye bye now.” 

The room froze, silence in the TARDIS. Then there was noise all at once. 

“Doctor what…”

“We can’t…” 

His two companions bombarded him with questions, their words only mumbled into background noise. The Doctor shouted over the top of them.

“We’re not going anywhere. There’s something going on and we’re going to find out what!”        

The console beeped as the Doctor near shouted out his frustration and the man ran to it without a second thought. 

“Anomalies” the man muttered. “Time freezes and atomic disruption” the man fiddled with the console. “No, that can’t be right” He clicked again. “I haven’t seen anything like this since…well no, that really can’t be right. Can it?” 

The Doctor’s fingers scattered across buttons, running this way and that to pull levers and pulling the screen with him as he went. “No no no. That really can’t…he can’t have. How would he? Impossible.” Another click. “But there’s nothing else that could. I mean…”

The Doctor left the control room at a run, still muttering to himself. He returned maybe a minute later with a pile of books he scattered across all available surfaces; including the floor. 

“The ood, no can’t be them. It’s way too powerful for that. Ranoss can’t be either, not the right type.” The timelord went on listing aliens and each one was crossed off with a deeper frown on the already aggravated face. 

A book flew into the wall with a thud as his frustration ran out, only narrowly missing Jack. 

“It just can’t be. I’d know. I would have…” Another book met one of the chairs. “It can’t be.” The tone sounded near desperate. 

“Doctor, what?” Martha had gone pale and was looking with wide eyes at the man. 

“A timelord” The Doctor forced out with pain in his voice. “He’s found another timelord and a powerful one. I…I haven’t seen these types of time freezes since…since Gallifrey.” 

The Doctor clenched his teeth as he continued, “They were a clan, a sect of Timelords, called themselves the Warlocks. They had the power to freeze time, some were powerful enough to stop whole galaxies. They could also destroy the times they had stooped. Permanently. There was devastation. The council, they, well, they decided that it wasn’t safe for them to exist anymore. There was ways to stop them and…they did, every last one. They were some of the most powerful beings in creation and the Master…The Master has found one.” 

“So this Warlock could destroy the entire galaxy?” Martha said wide eyed. 

“I don’t think so.” The Doctor tapped at the screen again. “The time blips, they are random.” He clicked again. “There is little to no destruction and it’s as though.” A run across, pulling the screen and a twist of a knob. “the Warlock is testing out their powers.” 

The Doctor typed as quickly as his fingers would allow. “But they all seem to be from the same area at least. I don’t think I can pinpoint each one exactly. But….” A ding on the screen. “Harstad” The Doctor seemed triumphant. 

“Whatever is happening the first time freeze was in Harstad, Norway and they seem to have just spread out since then.” The Doctor frowned at the screen. “The last one spread all the way to Copenhagen” 

“Well then we have to go to Harstad.” Jack quipped. 

“Let’s go.” The Doctor pulled a lever and the TARDIS groaned away.  

The TARDIS popped into existence as quickly as it had vanished and the three ran out as though the hounds of hell were on their heels, well in the style of a person who did not know that hell hounds were easily tamed with a ball and a good throwing arm. 

The Doctor cast a panicked gaze around the small city of Harstad. 

“There have to be signs of him somewhere.” The Doctor was voicing his stream of thought at a rather rapid rate. “If he’s with a Warlock then there have to be signs. Time will be fragmented and…well he wouldn’t just stop.” 

“Jack, Martha, you two go and knock on doors. Anything mysterious ring me.” The Doctor took a deep breath. “There has to be something.” He was sounding more panicked than either of his companions had heard him before. They nodded their assent. 

“Doctor, where are you going to go?” Martha asked cautiously. 

“I’m going to try and follow the fractures, cracks, whatever they are, that the Warlock has created. They’re very difficult to follow, especially when most of them are quite old. But I should be able to track them at least a little. Let me know if you find anything.” 

The Doctor strode off with purpose, only hoping that he could find something. A Warlock was real, really, really not good. They had…they had been able to destroy nearly anything if allowed to reach maturity. He hadn’t told Martha and Jack, it was far too dark, but his people hadn’t just killed those who were a threat. Any Warlock could be a threat if left long enough, and so, well, any that were born had been handed over and….The Doctor didn’t want to think about it. Before the time war it had been common place, and well, after the time war…there hadn’t been anyone else left to kill. 

The Doctor tried to spread his senses. His psychic ability had never been anything to brag about, and it was never really something that he had tried to perfect. That perfection was something that may have been rather advantageous right now. As it was the only thing that the Doctor could really detect now was the vague wrongness that permeated the air; the shifts and freezes having warped the time around them. 

The Doctor wondered randomly trying to pull at the string of time, forcing them to give him their secrets. It really wasn’t something that he was good at, and he ended up turning this way and that, back on himself and into other people’s gardens with no luck. 

The next thing the ancient timelord knew he was standing before a University building, the towers of it looming and students milling around the courtyard, chatting and walking. The Doctor frowned slightly. It would make some sense, the Doctor himself had done it before; teaching at a University was a rather good cover for any centuries timelord. Most lecturers didn’t seen quite normal, many of them stuck in the past or utterly dedicated to their subject. It just seemed too normal. Too run of the mill for the man who had crushed planets and seemed to have a Warlock under his thumb. 

The Doctor decided to do what he had been doing all day and wonder with little aim; following the pull of the universe and see where it brought him. If anything destructive or disastrous happened he would certainly feel that. For now this seemed to be the only option.

Just as the Doctor was meandering past a cafe, his phone rang. Once, twice and he picked it up. 

“Hello” 

“Doctor, hi,” It was Jack. “We’ve been looking around and there’s not much; a missing cat, someone stealing milk bottles and this eight year old attending the University. Not much, I know but I thought you might see something we didn’t.” 

“Thanks Jack.” A kid at the University, the threads of time bringing him here. The Doctor may have weak abilities in the realm of the psychic, but this couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The Doctor cleared his throat. “Head back to the Tardis. I’ve got a few things to do, but I’ll meet you back there. I don’t think there’s anything else we can do today.” 

“Doctor I-“ The timelord hung up. If there was a Warlock here, then the Doctor just couldn’t risk either of them. A powerful enough one and even Jack’s immortality would not keep him safe. 

He put the phone back in his pocket. The bell of the cafe rang. The Doctor turned and time seemed to slow. The Doctor’s eyes widened and his hearts beat faster. 

There. He could feel them. The Master and…

It was a child, he looked no more than ten years old, only reaching the new Master’s body’s waist. But the power; the power radiating off him was far from anything that the Doctor had ever experienced. Not since his time on Gallifrey had he felt the power of eternity so close to him. This boy! This boy was the Warlock and he was a child. The Master had found a time-tot and a Warlock time-tot at that. 

The Doctor caught himself, as he had stared from his place by the cafe, the pair had walked down the path and were heading toward the main road. 

“No” the Doctor started running. He couldn’t let them get away. Time-tots had not been seen since before the time war. Their birth was rare enough and in a time of war even more so. No one wanted to risk their death. But one was right there; meters away. 

“Master.” The Doctor shouted. People looked around in confusion. The Doctor didn’t care. “Master!” The man before him froze. The Doctor could see his shoulders tense and feel the anxious energy that permeated the air. 

“Doctor” The newly regenerated timelord turned to him. He looked different; younger, his hair, his eyes, his voice. But it was him. There was no question of that. The new man had a hand tightly on the small boy’s shoulder. Said boy was looking up with wide green eyes. 

“Master-“ the Doctor’s breath was near a pant as he spoke. His gaze cast between the boy and his once friend, once something more. “What…I don’t-“ His eyes went back to the boy. “You can’t have. It can’t be, he’s a…” 

The Master hummed. “Not the place, is it my dear.” The new eyes didn’t look like the old ones. They didn’t hold so much madness, they were softer. The Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Then where?” 

“We have a place.” The Master squeezed the small boy’s shoulder. “But none of your human pets, I think. Harry has trouble with people he doest know and I think that one is enough for today.” 

Harry. The Warlock, the time-tot, the impossibility; his name was Harry. 

“Come along then love. We best be going.” The Master turned and started walking. The Doctor wasn’t sure which one of them he had been addressing, but he didn’t say anything, he just followed in a jumble of thoughts, with no one to unload them to. 

The Doctor was in a small house, at a second or third hand kitchen table covered in nicks, with a cup of tea in his hands. The heat spreading to his fingers was really the only thing that confirmed he wasn’t in some sort of twisted dream where the Master and a time-tot were sitting across from him. 

“Was there anything that you wanted to look for in the library tot?” The Master was looking at the small boy who was shifting slightly. A time-tot, the Doctor’s mind reminded him unhelpfully. 

The boy looked to the Doctor and then back to the Master. “Well, I wanted to try and have a look at the black and white room argument. James said that it would be helpful for next weeks lecture.” 

Philosophy, the Doctor’s mind promoted. The Philosophy of mind to be precise. So the tot had actually been studying at the University then? 

The Master looked to his watch, then looked to his tot. “It’s past four Harry. You can watch a movie, or play with your toys. You can bring the toys down here if you want. I’ll start on dinner.” 

The little tot looked up at the Master destroyer of worlds and said words that the Doctor never thought would be directed at the man. 

“Okay Dad, I’ll play down here.” The little boy looked at the now gaping Doctor with obvious suspicion, but the timelord was far too shocked to really register it. Had that tot really just called The Master dad? Was he hearing things? Was this a dream. 

The tea slipped from the Doctor’s grip. It spread across the table and onto his lap. He hissed in pain as it seeped through his trousers and stood up, the chair screeching across the floor and the mug thudding against the table. Not a dream then. 

The Master sighed. “Go get your toys Harry. We can sort this out.” 

The boy nodded and scampered off. 

“Master” The Doctor looked imploringly at the man, begging for an explanation, however a towel met his face instead. 

“Clean that up will you.” The man turned and pulled open the fridge and the Doctor was once again left in utter confusion. 

He mopped up the tea and then could only stare as the man pulled out mince meat, vegetables, tomatoes in various forms and a variety of spices and began to chop. 

The tot, Harry, came down a few minutes later with an armful of toys. He sat down at the small kitchen table and spread them around. By the small tut and resigned look that Harry thew the Master, he assumed that this was not a normal state of affairs. The tot started to play and the Master continued his cooking. He really must have stepped into another dimension. 

“This is Moana” The little tot was looking at the Doctor with critical eyes. It made his heart hurt. The time tots of so many years ago, the eyes that held the universe. The tot was showing the doctor one of his dolls. 

“And this is the princess” Another doll, “Her Wizard” another doll “and their dog” A small plastic dog was placed in the Doctors palm. 

“Dad used to play the dog, but now he plays the wizard, so you can play the dog today. I’ll be the princess and we can go and explore.” The Doctor looked at the plastic in his hand with uncertainty. He placed the plastic pup on the table and looked up at the tot. 

“You have to make a noise. Dogs bark.” The tot sounded very sure of himself. 

The Doctor felt totally out of his comfort zone as he looked up at the boy and then down at the plastic. He took it in his fingers and with all the maturity of a timelord his age, he let out a small “Woof” and lifted the dog off the table as though it was jumping. 

The Doctor could hear the Master snigger as he added something else to the pot, but the tot nodded in approval and that was enough for the man. 

The Doctor lost himself in playing with the tot, the pair migrating from the table to the small living room as the dog and princess climbed mountains and scaled skyscrapers. The dog had to be rescued from a lake and the princess from nightmare monsters. 

“Boys” The Master called, his voice was distinctly amused. “Dinner is ready.” 

The tot popped up, placing his princess on the table and running back to the kitchen where the table had been set and the toys cleared. The boy went to sit.

“Would you get the drinks please Harry. Go ask the Doctor if he wants anything.” 

The boy cast a glance at the man standing in the doorway. “We have water, milk or ribena. But you can only have one cup of ribena.” The boy looked serious as he said it. 

“I’ll just have water please Harry.” 

The boy hurried to the sink and soon had a cup of juice and two of water placed on the table. 

“Come on dad, I’m hungry.” the Tot whined, the Doctor was still standing in the doorway looking in at the table. There were three plates, three glasses and three sets of cutlery; a large bowl of pasta and sauce in the middle. His breath caught. Domestic. This was not even a situation that he had dared dreamed of seeing the Master in.   

“Come sit down, won’t you dear.” The Master purred as he threw a wily smile at his fellow timelord. The Doctor sighed and sat. 

The dinner was so domestic. They ate and chatted of Harry’s day, his plans for the weekend and his desperate pleas for a real life dog, not just the stuffed and plastic ones that he had. It was like the Master really had a son. The way the boy looked at him, the way the Master responded, it was more surreal than anything the Doctor had ever experience and he had to keep pinching himself. 

It was as the Master stood to wash the dishes and Harry started clearing the table that the Doctor’s phone rang. Martha’s name was bold on the screen. He didn’t answer. As the dishes were put in the sink and the water started filling it rang again. The Doctor didn’t even look at the screen as he hung up the call. Harry had started towelling the dishes and putting them in the cupboards as the phone rang for a final time. The Doctor hung up and switched the device off. He walked over to the time-tot and helped him put the dishes away. 

It was a few hours later, after more playing, this time in the garden, a bath and a bed time story, that the Master and the Doctor were alone; sitting at the table and staring at each other. The Doctor was the first to lose the battle of wills and he cast his eyes on the battered table; his fingers running along the groves in the wood. 

“You have questions then, my dear?” The Master paused and the Doctor looked up again. “Well then ask away.” 

“He’s a Warlock” 

“Not a question, you already know the answer to that one.” The Master hummed. 

“How long have you had him? Where did you find him? How…its impossible…he can’t…” 

The Master cut him off in a scolding tone. “One at a time now.” 

The man paused and the Doctor said nothing. 

“I suppose it all started when that TARDIS of yours flew millions of years into the future and I got this brand new body. It’s been what, sixteen months since then, so the answer to the first of the many questions that you asked would be that. He’s been with me for sixteen months.” A smile pulled a little viciously at the lips. 

“But he was looking for you, you know. Just like that Captain of yours.” The word Captain was spat in distaste. “If only Harry’s legs had been a little longer. It would have been him clinging to that TARDIS and not that cheap imitation of immortality. Well, thank the Universe for small graces.”

The Doctor said nothing. In times like this it was best to let the Master talk himself out. 

“I suppose that covers the second one as well doesn’t it. As for the how, that’s something that I have only been able to pick up fragments of. The tot was under a chameleon circuit, had been for nearly two decades before he died for the first time.” The man’s face went dark. “You noticed the runes on his hand?” 

The Doctor shook his head. He hadn’t seen anything. 

“Perception filter’s working then.” It was more of a mumble to himself than anything else. “His watch burned them into his palm when he died. His own energy was fighting the containment and the force of the regeneration energy burned him and reverted him to his time-tot age rather than the human adult form he’d been inhabiting.” 

“But…” the Doctor’s voice was little above a whisper. “But where did he come from?” 

The Master sighed and rubbed at his face in a very human looking action. “Far as I can tell his parents sent him through time when the…” the Master paled slightly. “When the culling started.” 

Both of them were silent. The culling of the Warlocks. A horrific bloodlust filled time. 

A minute, then two. 

“So what now?” the Doctor whispered. 

The Master looked directly into the brown eyes. “Now, I stop anyone who tries to hurt a hair on his head.” 

“I wouldn’t…” The Doctor trailed off at the glare. He had destroyed his own home planet, he had killed millions, billions; monsters and children alike. “I wouldn’t want to. Not unless there was no other way.” The Doctor adjusted. 

The Master seemed to relax at that. “He’s not a danger. We’re working on controlling his powers and he hasn’t slipped up in about a month now.” 

The Doctor’s faced hardened. “What are you planning? When he has control of that power what will you do with him?” 

The Master smiled “Why nothing my dear Doctor. He is his and will be his own timelord. He has lived nearly two decades with humans and one alone. I believe that he can make his own decisions, no matter what I try.” 

“I don’t trust…” then the Doctor paused, something dawning on him. “He’s less than thirty?” his voice was breathy and desperate. 

The Master hummed. “Twenty eight, yes.”

“That’s so…” 

“Young I know. We had barely stepped foot from the house by that age. Yet he has lived and died. He is not something I can control, Doctor.” The Master looked disgusted at the very notion of it. 

“I tried to get him to call me dad right away you know. A tot that young would usually jump at the chance, no matter the person, no matter the timelord. You remember Atheasu, don’t you Doctor?” 

The Doctor nodded. The young timelord had lost both her parents when she had been young and off planet. For six months she had been raised by Karalaf intent on eating her. She had fought them off on a daily basis, yet she still loved the aliens constantly trying to eat her. She had screamed and cried for days after she had been found. Time-tots were rather naive and trusting, as were most young timelords of their race. Distrust only came with millennia of experience. 

“Well, It took Harry four months. And even then it was only to get my attention. He didn’t start calling me dad commonly for another two after that.” The Master’s lips curled. “He is not one that will let himself be manipulated. Not by me, and not by you.” 

The Doctor hummed. “So what are you going to do?”     

“Whatever keeps him safe.” 

“And that’s it. No plans, no….” The Doctor paused and hissed “Drums” 

The Master blinked, a look of surprise. It was not something that the Doctor was used to seeing. “The Drums” the Master mumbled. “Harry, he, he makes them stop. I can’t…They’re there, but I don’t notice them anymore.” 

The Doctor looked wide eyed at the Master. “You mean…you don’t hear them? They’re not…” 

“Driving me insane. No. It’s rather pleasant actually. Haven’t been able to think this clearly in…” the man gave a sad smile “Well, ever I suppose.” 

This was not the Master that the Doctor knew. Not the one with drums thrumming through his head and insanity in his eyes. This was a Master who cared about other people, well one other person, and didn’t want to destroy the universe before destroying himself. This was not the tot who looked into the time vortex and had tried to kill himself. It wasn’t the deranged timelord who would have destroyed Gallifrey himself if the Doctor had only asked. No this was something new, someone new. 

“Master” the Doctor looked at the man with near reverence. 

“Oh I do so love to hear my name on those lips of yours my dear.” The Master purred. “Say it again” 

“Master” the Doctor whispered. 

“Ummm, delicious.” the man purred. He was leaning closer now, over the scratched table and directly staring into the eyes of the man he had know for what felt like eternity. 

“Master” The Doctor’s breathing picked up and he knew that his hearts were beating just a little faster in his chest. 

And then…

Then the Master pulled back and sat back in his seat. The Doctor let outa sigh; a mixture of disappointment and relief. 

“There isn’t a spare bed.” the Master sounded nonchalant. 

“W-What?” the Doctor choked out. 

“I mean there’s the sofa,” the Master continued unperturbed. “but its rather small and your legs are rather long now.” the man smirked. “Rather nice legs, shame about the shoes.” 

“My shoes are fine!” the Doctor shouted out in protest before even really thinking. 

“As are the legs” the Master hummed. 

The Doctor flushed. 

“So you’re staying?” The Master was smirking and his eyes glittered. 

“I-I…um, I mean…well, I don’t.” the Doctor took a breath. “Yes.” 

“Well, it is rather late. We should probably sleep, or Harry will be up before we’ve slept.” The Master stood and held out his hand to the other timelord. 

The Doctor’s throat clicked “Yes.” He took the hand and followed the Master to his room.