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Chapter Text

It had started in his first year, his first transfiguration class, to be exact.

Harry had wanted to get to leave for their class early, to make sure they got there on time, Ron had complained but eventually relented.

They'd walked into the classroom that was marked on their timetables for the class, only to notice there was no teacher, instead, there was a tabby cat perched on the desk, watching them like a hawk.

Harry and Ron shuffled over to sit at a desk, talking quietly to themselves as they waited for the lesson to begin.

When the time passed for the lesson to begin and the teacher didn't appear, they'd all began to get loud as they voiced their confusion.

When five minutes had passed, Dean, one of their roommates, had rushed in, seemingly relaxing when he saw there was no teacher in sight.

And then the cat had transformed into Professor McGonagall.

Harry decided, then and there, that he wanted to learn how to do that, because if he could do that, then he could spend the summer living as a cat so that he wouldn't have to deal with his relatives.

In that year, along with the regular first year course and the issues that came with Quirrell and the Philosopher's stone, Harry learnt everything he could about what he'd learnt was called the 'Animagus Transformation'.

Anyone could do it, so long as they put the time and effort into it, and what you transformed into was based on a few factors, including external issues, energy influxes, and your personality.

Harry wondered what he would be.

When he went to Diagon Alley that summer, he picked up a few books on the Animagus Transformation, looking for information that he couldn't find in school, along with a booklet with information on high quality owl order potioneers.

The Animagus Transformation required a potion, after all, and Harry was not good with those.

In his second year, he opened up an owl correspondence with a potion's master located in Spain, he gave the man an alias so that it wouldn't get out that Harry Potter was looking into becoming an Animagus, not only illegally, but very underaged too.

The man luckily did not care about the fact that what seemed to be a student was inquiring about the potion, after all, said student was willing to pay for it, he certainly had the money.

By the end of his second year, along with killing a thousand year old Basilisk, Harry had a general idea of what he'd need to do when he got the potion.

He would receive the potion on the night of the full moon, once he had it, he would need to add one mandrake leaf that had been in his mouth for one month, re-stopper the potion, and shake it.

Then, after drinking the potion, he should change to his Animagus form.

Simple enough.

In that summer, he managed to acquire the number of galleons that the Spanish potioneer would charge him.

He knew that there wouldn't be the chance to do the transformation while in school, as he highly doubted his ability to hide the fact that he was holding a mandrake leaf in his mouth from the teachers, who likely knew how to spot something like that happening.

So, he would have to do it in the summer while with his relatives who wouldn't care if he didn't exactly speak to them for a month or so, hell, they'd probably encourage it.

He couldn't do it that summer, however, as it was almost over as it was, so he'd need to wait another year, something which didn't exactly bother him too badly, he had plenty of patience from his earlier years.

That year, Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban and Dementors were stationed around the school.

That year, Hermione Granger, a close friend of Harry's was entrusted with a Time Turner.

That year, Harry Potter time travelled.

And when Harry put the mandrake leaf in his mouth that summer, just a couple of weeks later, energy from the Time Vortex still clung to him.

And that had made quite the difference.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Harry noticed when he woke up after taking the Animagus potion was that his vision was much clearer than it had been previously, from his awkward position on the floor, he could clearly make out the pattern in the grain of wooden flooring two full metres away from where his face was.

Not only that, but the colours appeared to be much brighter too, what had once appeared to be faded blue curtains stood out with its patchwork of various blues, shades he'd never known even existed creating swirling patterns that seemingly shimmered where the sunlight caught it.

His hearing had also improved, where before he could hear his relatives only because they were so loud, now it as if they were just outside of his bedroom door, he could even hear the next door neighbour complaining to her daughter about aunt Petunia.

He breathed in through his nose and noticed that his sense of smell had also increased and that he could now tell apart different scents, Hedwig, who was perched in her cage, smelled of feathers, spruce wood, and what he could only describe as the wind.

Harry lifted his head further and sniffed at the air, interested in the different things he could smell, a small part of himself was glad that the door wasn't open, as he wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the smells that his relatives gave off, after all, uncle Vernon did tend to sweat an awful lot.

After spending an unknown amount of time laying on the floor, getting used to his new senses, Harry decided it would be a good idea to see what he now was.

He rolled onto his stomach and placed his hands down in front of his chest so that he could push himself up and paused.

Hands.

He still had hands.

Wasn't he supposed to have paws or something? Possibly flippers? It was an Animagus Transformation after all.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but shook his head, he had to see what he was first.

Harry pushed upwards, onto his knees, and then up onto his legs.

'Guess I'm still bipedal.' He thought.

He walked over to a small shattered mirror in the corner of the room, he'd managed to take the mirror before the Dursley's had thrown it away a week prior.

He paused in front of it, took a deep breath, then looked down.

A child.

There was a literal child staring back at him.

"What the fuck?"

He stumbled backwards and took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"Alright Harry, this is okay, just change back and forget this even happened," He told himself.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing his magic through his body as he'd done many times prior in practice, once it was spread evenly, he pushed the feeling of changing back to himself, remembering how it felt to be himself.

He thought about the duller senses, about his poor eyesight, and about the fact that he was a young teenager, not what looked like a toddler or a really young child.

Harry opened his eyes, expecting to be back to normal.

Nothing happened.

He gulped, and stumbled over to his desk, where his books on the Animagus Transformation were stacked, he'd managed to sneak them into his room without his relatives knowing so that he would be able to read them if he encountered any problems.

His favourite so far had been one called 'Animagi; Myth vs Fact' and had a comprehensible list of questions and answers.

He pulled himself up on the wobbly chair and opened the large book that was sat in the centre of the desk, flipping through the book to try and find an answer.

He paused in his flipping, closed the book, flipped it open to a random page, took a quick look at it, then closed it once more.

That was… Interesting.

Harry grabbed a small paperback dictionary from the corner of the desk and flipped through the entire book, staring at the area the book was in, once it was shut, he placed it back in the corner and sat back in the chair, processing what had just happened.

Apparently his Animagus form could retain information from just a glance.

Harry shook his head and decided to think about that after he'd solved his current problem and turned back to the hardback book.

He opened the front page and slowly flipped through them, stopping when he saw an entire section that might have answers he was looking for.

'Animagi magics and sentient species' it was called.

And if Harry had any guess, it would be that whatever his Animagus form's species was, it was definitely sentient.

The Animagus Transformation can be a tricky process, and many different things can contribute to what shape you take.

There are many minor influences on what form you take; your diet, your surroundings, and even people you see regularly are just a few examples of this.

Some major outside influences also exist, such as different energies that you may be exposed to, which is why it is recommended for a Witch or Wizard attempting the transformation to go through a purification ritual.

Harry skimmed through the rest of the page before he came to an abrupt halt and carefully re-read what he'd seen.

Sometimes a Witch or Wizard may find themselves occupying the body of a different sentient species instead of an animal after completing the Animagus Transformation.

Be warned that this type of transformation is considered a permanent change of species as there is no known reversal.

'Well,' thought Harry. 'They really should have put that warning at the beginning of the book.'

He sighed and shut the book, then looked down at his legs, noticing for the first time since he woke up just what he was wearing.

A shirt, nothing else, his trousers and boxers having obviously fallen off when he'd shrunk to his new size.

"Suppose I'll have to do something about that."

He looked around his room and frowned, leaning back in thought.

"I can't stay here anymore," he looked towards the loose floorboard where his invisibility cloak, wand, vault key, and money pouch were all hidden. "I can leave pretty easily, but where would I go?"

He couldn't go to Sirius, as he was on the run, and he couldn't go to Hogwarts, because he wasn't a human anymore and it was pretty obvious, especially for a group of people who have to know how to tell the subtle differences between Human and Vampire, or Human and Werewolf.

Other than the whole being a literal child thing he had going on, he'd already noticed a bit of an oddity in his chest area, known as a second heart.

The mass population of Magical Britain was very much against anything not human and Harry did not exactly wish to be killed or worse, experimented on by the Department of Mysteries, he'd heard the horror stories and was going to take them as the warning they were.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

"Well Hedwig, it looks like it's just us now."

He got up, gathered his stuff from the loose floorboard, stuffing his wand, key, and money pouch in the large pocket on the shirt. He let Hedwig out of her cage, watching as she stretched her wings then took off out the window.

He then looked around once more and made his way to the bedroom door, flinging his invisibility cloak around him, making sure none of him peaked out of the fabric, and that he wouldn't trip over its edges.

He crept down the stairs and quietly made his way past the living room where Dudley was watching the television, uncle Vernon was 'reading' the newspaper, and aunt Petunia was doing some ironing.

He entered the kitchen and made a beeline for the backdoor, he could have gone through the front, but the neighbours might find it strange, seeing the door open and close by itself.

Harry opened the door, stepped outside, then shut it behind him, the nearly silent click had him feeling more alone than he ever had before.

He took a deep breath and walked forwards into the small woodland area surrounding the neighbourhood.

He would be okay.

His eyes watered and he stifled a sob.

He would have to be.

Chapter Text

Harry didn't know how long he'd been walking for, the woodland area that surrounded the neighbourhood apparently stretched on a lot further than he'd expected and flanked a local motorway.

He'd started walking along the motorway, just inside the treeline where the ground was softer thanks to the grass and moss that covered the ground, as opposed to the concrete and road tar that made up the massive roadside.

His bare feet ached, but luckily, they were not bleeding.

He'd taken his invisibility cloak off after a while of walking and Hedwig had joined him, alternating between perching on a branch atop a tree, perching on his head and preening him, and flying alongside him as he walked.

It had been early morning when he had fled Privet Drive, he looked up at the sky, noting how its bright blues had slowly begun to bleed with the pinkish-orange glow of the setting sun. He turned his head to where the sky was slightly darker, noting that he could just about make out the slowly appearing form of some stars.

Harry sighed and let his head drop down to stare at his shirt, which now dropped town to rest a couple of inches above his ankles, the once off-white colour had been stained with mud from where he'd slipped down a rather steep incline a few hours prior and the bottom of the fabric was littered with small tears where he'd gotten caught on branches, brambles, and small rocks.

Being alone like he had been for these long hours had given his new instincts time to settle, and with them, it bought out a whole slew of childish emotions and wants.

He was cold, tired, hungry, thirsty, scared and alone and he wanted an adult now, please.

And yet there was no-one around to comfort him, no-one to tell him it would be okay, to hold him as he cried.

Just him and Hedwig, alone in the woods.

A wave of exhaustion hit him, and Harry found himself falling backwards landing hard on his butt as his legs throbbed in agony.

His chest felt tight and he could feel tears welling up in his eyes, he shook his head and rubbed at his eyes with the dirty sleeve of the shirt.

"I'm a big boy," He muttered. "Big boys don't cry."

He pulled his knees to his chest, tucking his shirt under his feet as he moved and buried his face in his arms, his shoulders shook and he found himself unable to stop a sob, his tears running down his cheeks.

"But… But I'm not a big boy anymore, am I?"

Hedwig flew down from a nearby tree, landing next to him. She hopped over to him and gently nibbled at the fingers that dangled down, giving a soft hoot when he turned his head to peer at her with one eye he smiled softly at her, moving his fingers to pet at her head gently.

Letting his legs slide down to a sitting position, he wiped at his eyes with his free arm and gave a loud sniff, willing his nose to unblock from where he'd been crying, he let his fingers slide from Hedwig's head as he peered around the small clearing where he'd collapsed.

The trees were tall, but not tightly packed together, there were many paths and signs, which lead Harry to believe that it might be a local hiking trail, although not a very popular one, judging from the complete lack of any kind of person that he'd seen all day.

He sighed and turned to look at his owl.

"Do you think you could find some kind of shelter for me to stay in, just for tonight?"

Hedwig bobbed her head up and down in an impression of a nod then spread her wings and took off, quickly shooting up past the top of the treeline.

Harry watched the sky as it slowly grew darker as he waited for Hedwig to return, enjoying the clashing of the pinks and oranges as they gave way to dark blues and purples.

The sun had almost fully set when she returned, appearing as a speck of darkness in the low light, her descent to the ground was silent and upon landing she hooted at him, gaining his full attention as she hopped to his left and took off.

Harry shakily stood up and began walking towards the deeper woodlands, following as Hedwig slowly flew in front of him, making sure he could keep up, often perching on low tree branches when he fell behind a bit too far.

The treeline grew denser the further they walked, and the ground filled with overgrown plants, rocks stuck out along the path he was walking far more often than they had on the footpath he'd been following for most of the day.

As he got out of his new hearing range, which was a lot further than it had been when he was human, from the motorway, he noticed the trickling noise of a stream, he picked up his pace, hoping that it was in the direction he was travelling in, after having gone almost the whole day without drinking anything, he was extremely thirsty.

He was rewarded when the tree line broke and he came across an abandoned and rundown cottage, which had a very clear looking stream running alongside it.

Harry ran as quickly as he could on his exhausted legs to the stream and fell to his knees beside it, he cupped his hands and dipped them in the cool water, bringing the liquid up to his mouth to drink, sighing in relief after he'd had a rather large amount of mouthfuls of the water. He knew it was dangerous to drink uncleaned water, but at that point, he didn't really have a choice, nor did he care.

From where he knelt next to the stream, Harry looked at the cottage as he took another sip of the stream's water.

It was completely overgrown with the local plant life, a tree had grown into one of the bottom windows and burst out through an upstairs window, wooden panels had fallen away and landed on the ground and half of the roof seemed to have rotten away, it looked pretty and fit its scenery with its wild look, but at the same time seemed extremely unsafe for use.

"It's not like one night will hurt, right?" He muttered to himself. "It's not going to collapse in on itself after possibly hundreds of years of being left out here just because I decided to sleep in it."

He nodded to himself and stood from the ground, walking over to the door of the cottage and carefully pushed it open.

The inside was surprisingly intact, if very dusty.

There were old tables and chairs scattered about, and after peering into the living room, he noticed that one corner had a bunch of old blankets bundled up, which were also dusty, but suggested that someone had used the house to sleep in before.

With that in mind, he walked over to what he thought was the kitchen and went through its cupboards and the pantry, hoping that the prior campers had left behind some non-perishable foods.

He was in luck, in the back of one small cupboard in the corner, Harry found a single can of tomato soup that was still in date by a whole month, grinning, he pulled on the can's ring, opening it. He didn't have anything to warm it with, so he just drank it from the can.

Now that he'd eaten something and had some water, he was feeling the tired a lot more, as such he walked over to the pile of blankets in the living room, shook them free of the dust and settled down into the corner they'd been bundled in to be the most protected from the elements.

As he was wrapping the last blanket around himself, he noticed that Hedwig had perched on top of the old, half-collapsed fireplace, and was sleeping, a small smile appeared on his face at the sight.

He would need to find himself some new clothes, shoes included, and find a way to keep himself fed, he didn't need to worry about Hedwig as she could hunt food for herself just fine, but he would worry about that tomorrow, for now, he needed to sleep.

He yawned and curled up in the large nest of blankets he'd made, blinking blearily up at the star dotted night's sky which he could see through the cracked window, silently naming the different constellations that he could see, slowly his eyes slid shut and he drifted off to sleep.

Moments later, a quiet creek could be heard, and a figure appeared in the doorway, staring down at the sleeping child.

Chapter Text

Harry was awoken the next day by the early morning sunlight streaming through the broken window as it shone on his uncovered face, he turned over and buried his face further into the musty-smelling blankets with a groan, in his half-asleep state, he almost missed the chuckle that came from the opposite corner of the room.

Almost.

Harry jerked up in alarm, blankets falling away from his chest and pooling in his lap, he turned to face the person in the room with him, opening his mouth to say something but paused when he finally saw who the person was.

The woman was sat upon an old rocking chair he'd not noticed the previous night, slowly rocking back and forth, occasionally causing slight creaks to come from it, she had a pair of knitting needles and was apparently knitting something, a scarf if he wasn't mistaken. She was rather plump, but he thought that it suited her, giving her a very warm, motherly feel.

Oh, and she was a ghost.

Her needles and yarn were both ghostly items too, but she was able to interact with physical objects, as shown by her ability to use the rocking chair.

"You're dead," He stated, bluntly.

The ghost burst out laughing at his statement and it took him a moment to figure out what he'd said.

"I'm sorry!" He cried out in alarm. "I didn't mean it like that!"

The ghost just shook her head and waved him off.

"It is alright, young one, I am aware that you meant no harm in your words," Her voice was soothing, and Harry found himself relaxing.

The two stared at each other in silence for a long moment until she shot a concerned glance at him. "Where are your parents? you appear far too young to be on your own."

His eyes watered slightly, and he looked down at his lap, fiddling with the edge of one of the blankets as he attempted to avoid looking at the slightly transparent silverish eyes of the ghostly woman. "I-" He started, stopping to think of how to explain his problem.

Harry knew from his DADA lessons that it was only the ghosts of magical people who existed in a silverish colour, they were also the only ones who kept their entire personality, emotions, and memories.

The ghosts of Muggles were often perceived with full colour, and over time they would begin to lose their memories and emotions, and their personality would often take a rather dangerous turn, this was the reason why so many Muggles warned against staying the night in houses that were perceived as haunted, and why so many of their ghost stories ended with death.

According to a book which Hermione had read from the library after that lesson, there was a whole department in the Ministry of Magic dedicated to helping the ghosts of Muggles pass on, as they were a danger not just to the non-magical population of Britain, but to those with magic too.

With that knowledge in mind, Harry could tell that the ghostly woman had been a Witch when she was alive because of the bluish-silver colour of her semi-transparent body, and if he told about his problem thanks to the Animagus Transformation, she could possibly help him figure out what he should do.

There was the possibility that she could be one of those who were prejudiced against those who were non-human in origin, much like the majority of Wizards and Witches in the United Kingdom at that moment in time, which he had seen first-hand when Professor Lupin had been exposed as a werewolf at the end of the school year which had just passed.

But even with that possibility, something inside of Harry told him that it would be fine to tell her, that the outcome would be the most desirable option between telling her about the issue and not telling her.

"I messed up with the Animagus Transformation," He admitted. "I'm actually thirteen, fourteen in a week."

She leant back in her rocking chair, a contemplative look on her face. "The Animagus Transformation, is it one to take another form, such as a bird, with help of a potion?"

"Yes."

She nodded to herself and looked him in the eyes. "And you have not sought help from those in charge of those blessed with magic? Surely they can help to find you a family of your new species to take you in and teach you their ways?"

Harry winced slightly at the thought of going to the Ministry about his little problem. "No offence, but when exactly did you die?" He questioned.

The ghost raised an eyebrow at him but answered anyway. "I believe it was sometime in the late 1070s according to the Christian calendar, why does this matter?"

He looked at her in mild shock, she was as old as some of the Hogwarts ghosts. "It's 1994, ma'am and the Ministry of Magic is extremely prejudiced against anything that isn't human or doesn't have magic." He informed her.

"Prejudiced against anything not human?" She sounded extremely shocked. "How do we keep our forests, lakes, rivers, oceans, and moorlands safe? Druids help to keep the forests alive, Centaurs help cull invasive species, Merpeople help fish migrations, there are so many, many more non-human species upon this planet than there are human, and all of them have their share to keep the planet alive, and you're telling me that the magical humans now think themselves above them?"

Harry nodded. "And the non-magicals too," He agreed.

She took a deep, calming breath, and turned to look at him. "My house is warded against collapsing," She stated. "You are welcome to stay here as long as you need."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"No need to call me 'ma'am', young one, you may call me 'Nana'."

He looked up at her in shock, before looking away shyly. "My name's Harry."

She grinned, then got up from her seat and walked over to him, slowly she lowered herself to the ground until she was sitting across from him.

"So, other than being an adorable little boy," Her grin grew wider as his cheeks grew pink in embarrassment. "Have you noticed anything else that has changed about yourself?"

"Um, why do you need to know?" He asked.

Her smile grew smaller and softer as she looked down at him, understanding his discomfort. "Perhaps if you were to tell me, we could begin to figure out what you are."

He frowned slightly and tilted his head in thought, it would be a good idea to know what his species was exactly so that he would know what to expect from his growing patterns, and also how to take care of himself properly such as making sure he got the correct foods.

"Well," He began nervously. "I can remember anything I read, even if I only glance at it, um, one of the books I looked at called it 'photographic memory'."

The ghost, or Nana, as she asked to be called gave an encouraging smile and gestured for him to continue.

"I can smell scents of things, like Hedwig over there," He pointed to his owl who was still sleeping with her head tucked under her wing on the fireplace. "She smells like spruce wood, feathers, and the wind," Harry paused and tilted his head to face his beloved owl, sniffing at the air. "Actually, she also has something else which smells like it's behind those three which smells like 'snowy owl', I can't really explain it."

Nana's smile was gentle as he talked about how his owl smelt. "So, a very good memory and a very strong sense of smell, anything else?"

He nodded. "My eyesight's really, really good now, it used to be really, really bad, and I can hear things really loud now, and uh," He trailed off, looking at the floor, unwilling to look at the kind ghost.

"What is it?" She asked him in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I don't… feel comfortable," He muttered, grasping at his chest.

"What don't you feel comfortable with? Perhaps I can help?" She suggested.

"Two hearts," He stated, tears beginning to form in his eyes, and she could tell that it was only just beginning to register in his mind what had happened to him, after having spent the prior day in shock while trying to get somewhere safe.

"Two hearts?"

"Yeah…" He muttered, looking down at his hands.

"Well then," She began cheerfully. "You know what that means, right?"

He peered up at her and shook his head slightly.

"Two hearts? Well, that's double the love to give!"

His head jerked up in surprise and he stared at her in open shock. "Double the love?"

"Of course!" She cried out. "Love comes from the heart, and you Harry, have two!"

He looked down at his chest in thought.

"Double the love…"

Chapter Text

The two had talked for a few hours when Harry finally noticed that he was beginning to hunger, he looked towards the cracked window and frowned when he noticed that the sun was at its highest point in the sky, signifying that it was midday.

"Do you know where the nearest town is?" He asked her.

"I believe it is a half an hour walk in the northern direction," She told him, as he stood from where he was half-laying on the floor. "What is it that you need?"

"Clothes," He shrugged. "And food, a bag would be nice, maybe a book or two?"

Nana frowned at him. "You do not have suitable clothing?"

"Just what I'm wearing, oh and an invisibility cloak!"

She gave him a concerned glance and hummed. "I suppose it would be within your best interests to go and get some clothes then, you have money, correct?"

He nodded and pulled out the pouch that he kept his money in, it contained some wizarding money as well as about two hundred and fifty pounds, which he'd had converted the previous summer at the same time he'd obtained the money to pay the potioneer.

She watched him for a few moments and then nodded. "Don't forget shoes and underwear."

He blushed as she began herding him out the door, carefully helping him avoid debris on the ground, once there, she turned him to face the direction that he assumed was north.

"Walk in a line, or as much as possible until you reach the town and be back before the sun sets."

He nodded, a serious look on his face as he began walking away.

"Oh, and Harry?" She called after him, waiting until he'd turned back around to face her to continue. "That wand of yours? You might want to get rid of it."

"What? Why?" He cried out in a mixture of panic and confusion.

She gave him a sad smile. "So long as the magic has been attached to an object for a while, ghosts can feel it. There is some form of tracking magic clinging to it, and from what you have spoken of the magical world of the current day, having people find where you are is not something that you would want."

Harry pulled his wand out from the pocket on his shirt, looking at it in bewilderment, until he recalled the incident in the summer between his first and second year at Hogwarts, where he'd gotten in trouble for casting magic when it was actually Dobby's actions, he also recalled Hermione mentioning something called 'the Trace', which monitored the magic casted by students.

Nana was correct, he didn't want to be found by the Wizarding World, who knows what they would do to him now that he was no longer human?

If Harry Potter didn't turn up for his fourth year at Hogwarts, would they decide to track him down? If it was possible to use the Trace to track his magic use, then why not the wand itself? And even if they didn't try and track him down with that originally, if he used magic through the wand it would cause the Trace to go off, leading them to him.

"Yeah," He frowned and gave a sad nod, tucking the wand back into his pocket. "That might be for the best…"

She gave a sad smile and placed her hand on his shoulder, ignoring his shudder from the chill of her ghostly form, "A focus is not worth more than the life of its wielder, even if the focus has bonded to them."

He looked up at her, feeling so incredibly small at that moment. "I understand, but I wish I didn't."

She sighed and patted his shoulder. "Go on, those clothes will not purchase themselves."

Harry nodded and turned away once more to begin his walk to the local town.

As he walked, he took the time to familiarise himself with the scenery just in case he ever found himself lost within the woods. There were many different types of trees, some of which he could identify, such as the pine trees, willow trees, and even an occasional cherry blossom tree.

The ground was covered in a mix of moss and grass, with the occasional rock or boulder sticking out from the ground, forcing him to pay extra close attention to where he placed his admittedly sore feet.

He soon stumbled upon a walking path, which skirted the edge of a town where the treeline suddenly came to a stop and quickly made his way into the town, ignoring the way some of the adults looked at him.

He knew he looked a mess, honestly, he was the size of a toddler, and he wore only a torn and muddy shirt that was far too large for him.

The first thing Harry did was look for a bin, he wandered up and down the streets, idly picking out the shops that sold clothes that most likely wouldn't care about a small unattended child shopping for clothes, so long as said child had the money.

He found one eventually on a small pedestrian street, next to a set of traffic lights, and walked up to it, pulling his wand from his pocket, he looked down at it sadly, and then dropped it into the black bag that lined it.

Eventually, the bin would be emptied, and the wand would be taken to wherever it was that the bin men took the rubbish to, and then if someone were to track it, they would end in a big pile of rubbish, no Harry in sight.

He stood, staring at the bin for a good five minutes until he forced himself to move on from the spot, it was time to look for clothes.

While hoping that no-one would ask questions about why an apparent toddler was shopping for himself, he'd felt what he could only describe as getting pins and needles in your leg after it had been in the same position for a really long time, only this was in his head, not his leg.

After that, once he'd made eye contact with one of the sales assistants, their eyes had glazed over and had been perfectly happy to help him find clothes in his correct size.

Before his sudden transformation, he would have called it accidental magic, however something inside of him screamed that this was the incorrect conclusion, and as such he chalked it up as an ability of his new species.

He spent the rest of his outing in the small town figuring out how to control this new ability of his, while also finishing his much-needed shopping, grabbing a pair of shoes that actually fit him, a nice big hiking bag, lots of non-perishable foods, a nice big fluffy blanket with a pillow, and some non-fiction books that he'd pulled out of a bargain bin, all of which he stored in his new bag.

He'd also eaten a pasty from the local bakery, and gotten some paper, pens, and envelopes, just in case he decided to send a message to Sirius with Hedwig, he was his godfather, after all, he deserved to know what happened to him, didn't he?

His trip back to the cottage from the town was a lot more tolerable than the journey there, thanks to the fact that he was now wearing a pair of shoes and not just running around barefooted, and he made it back with a few hours to spare.

He quickly made his way into the living room, smiling at Nana who was once again knitting on her rocking chair.

"Have a nice time?" She asked him.

"It was..." He trailed off as he thought of the correct words to describe his day. "Informative."

"Oh?" She looked up, raising an eyebrow at the large bag on the boy's back, but not saying anything. "How so?"

He moved to his corner, kneeling down and quickly unpacking his things from the bag, adding the blanket and pillow to the pile of old blankets in the corner of the room. "Think I might have brainwashed the staff members at the shops to pretend I wasn't an unattended a toddler or something."

"You used magic to make them believe something that wasn't?"

"I don't think it was magic," He corrected while placing a can of soup on a pile of other canned food items. "Felt like I was doing it with my head."

She frowned slightly in thought. "There are some species with psychic tendencies, some more than others, but there is an ability in some of these species called 'Hypnosis', I believe a spell was created based upon this ability, and some non-magical humans even managed to create a version which needed no magic at all to perform."

Harry stared at her, a conflicted look on his face.

"Even still, these psychic abilities are not magic, similar though they may seem, and many species are mistaken for magical as a result," She looked at him, creating direct eye contact, "Perhaps this is what you are experiencing?"

Harry gulped in nervousness.

"Well, it is no matter for this moment."

And with that, they went back to a somewhat tense silence, as Harry stacked his food and Nana knitted.

Chapter Text

A week passed by in a relatively calm state, or, well, as calm of a state as it could be in a household that consisted of an elderly ghost and a teenaged toddler.

Harry awoke to the sun shining into his eyes through the crack in the outer wall, groaning he turned over, pulling one of his blankets over his head to block out the light.

The sound of Nana's laughter pulled his mind out of its sleep-induced grogginess and he huffed, pushing his blankets down onto his lap as he sat up.

"Happy birthday, Harry," She greeted him, smiling softly as he tilted his head to the side in confusion.

It took him a few seconds to understand what she'd said to him, and when the words had processed in his mind, he perked up, his eyes widening in shock.

"I didn't even realise," He informed her, quickly standing from his spot in his nest of blankets and scrambling to his bag, he threw it open and began digging through it to get to his paper and pens. "I'm fourteen now," He laughed somewhat bitterly. "Doesn't seem like it, does it?"

"Now, now," Nana huffed at him. "Just because it seems bad for now, does not mean that it will not become better in the future."

He frowned at her words but shook his head once he found his pad of paper, with a pen securely in his other hand he walked towards the somewhat sturdy low coffee table and sitting beside it, opening the pages of paper to write.

He'd been working on a letter to Sirius for the past week, but all he had were half-finished letters that he didn't like, Nana had tried to help him, but none of them ever seemed to come out right.

How could he tell his Godfather that he'd messed up the Animagus Transformation, that he'd become a toddler of a completely different species?

It was difficult, and Nana had been nothing but supportive, however, Harry felt like he needed to send this letter out, especially today as Sirius would be expecting something and would no doubt want to send him something in return.

One interesting thing that he'd learnt over the previous seven days was that owls could no longer find him, it was as if Harry Potter didn't exist to them anymore, although, to be fair, Harry Potter didn't exactly exist for him anymore either, after all, Harry Potter was a Human Wizard, and he was not, but it didn't matter to him anyway, after all, he was quite content with being 'Just Harry'.

But the fact that the owls couldn't find him meant that if Sirius had tried to send him anything since he'd become what he now was, the owl would have gone in circles for a while before returning to him, something which normally happened when the target was dead or behind ridiculously strong wards.

Hedwig, however, could find him, because she knew him and he knew her, but he could tell that she was nervous about leaving him alone, it was visible in the way she'd begun watching him like a hawk since he'd bought it up, and he could feel it in the way she preened his hair.

But he would be fine for a day or two, he had Nana, she would make sure he was okay.

He looked down at the paper he'd been writing on and gave a frustrated sigh, turning the page and starting over.

Harry paused in his writing after five minutes and turned to look at Nana, there was a question that had been bugging him for a few days now. "Why haven't you moved on?" He blurted out.

Nana paused in her knitting and looked up at him, they sat in silence for a minute until she set her needles down with a sigh, the ghostly yarn dissipating in the air, leaving it empty for her to begin again.

"Are you certain you wish to know?" She asked softly, to which he nodded. "Very well."

He moved around a bit, slipping the paper from the table to his lap so he could face her as she spoke and still continue writing his letter, she waited patiently for him to get comfortable and then began her story.

"What you need to understand, Harry is that during the period of time in which I died the Witch burnings were still very much commonplace. The students and staff of Hogwarts were rather sheltered in the relatively new school, but it still occasionally came under attack, which is why the school has so many defences built into it."

She trailed off for a moment, lost in thought, continuing to talk after a brief moment. "My family was a rather high-profile target back then, thanks to my actions, many religious circles wanted us gone for daring to teach their children such 'demonic arts', they couldn't see their magic for the gift that it was and believed us to be corrupting them."

She gave a shaky sigh and reached her hand up to rub at her face. "I was worried for my family, I didn't want them to be hunted, I wanted to make sure they were safe, and so I did, and then my children passed, and I stayed for my grandchildren, and their children, and then their children."

There was silence for a few minutes until she finished her story. "I've been here for so long that my family has all left and now I'm too scared to move on."

Harry frowned, and pushed his paper onto the floor, standing from where he'd been sat and walking over to her, giving her the best hug that he could give a ghost by wrapping his arms around where she would be if she were alive, ignoring the cold sensation of her form.

"I think that your family would be really happy to see you again," He informed her.

She gave him a sad smile. "Perhaps, but I have you to think about for now."

He frowned and shook his head. "I have Hedwig and I'm writing to Sirius now; your family is more important than me, they've been waiting centuries from what you've told me!"

She chuckled. "I am, at heart, a mother, and I see a little boy who needs caring for, I couldn't just leave, knowing that I would be leaving you with no one to care for you."

There was silence as Harry pulled back from the hug and walked back to where he'd dropped the pad of paper on the ground, picking it up and flopping back down next to the table to continue writing.

"I can't stay here forever," He whispered. "I can feel the need to physically be in another place altogether pushing up against my mind, it says I need to be there 'soon', and that it's important."

The silence that followed was almost deafening, and Nana could see how his entire body seemed to tremble from either fear or pressure, it was difficult to tell, slowly he turned his head to face her, and she took a sharp intake of breath as his eyes glowed similar to how a cat's eyes reflected the light.

"I need to go, Miss Helga," He blinked, and the glow was gone, "I can't ignore it."

He stared at her for a moment, and it almost felt as though he were judging her very soul.

"I never told you my name."

"You didn't need to."

Very suddenly, he turned back to his letter, seemingly content with ignoring the entire conversation that had happened.

A few moments later and he smiled down at the letter he'd written, as it was finally finished, he carefully tore the paper out of the pad and placed it down on the table, dropping his pen on top of it as he stood up to get an envelope from his bag so that it wouldn't blow away in the soft breeze that was blowing through the wall.

He quickly grabbed the envelope and made his way back to the table, folding the letter and slipping it inside and then licking the envelope glue to stick the flap down, he then flipped it over and scrawled a large 'Snuffles' on the front.

"Hedwig," he called out to his beloved owl, who flew down from her perch on the fireplace and landed in front of him. "Take this to Sirius, will you?" He asked her, attaching it to her leg once she stuck it out for him.

She stared at him for a moment and then turned, taking off and heading out of the crack in the wall.

He watched as she flew into the distance, and stood for a while after she'd disappeared, staring at the last spot he'd seen her, and he was hit with a sudden wave of anxiety.

What if something bad happened to her while she was gone? What if someone had left a trap for her? What if someone hurt her while she was out, and no one could help her, and she died?

Harry whimpered slightly, worried for his friend, although he knew logically that there was no reason for him to be worried for her, after all, she'd done this countless times before.

"Do not worry for your owl, Harry," Nana told him from where she was sat staring at him. "She will be just fine; she is an intelligent one."

"I know that, but..."

"But you are a young child, and you are emotionally attached to her, of course you'll worry for her."

He looked at her for a minute then turned back to stare at the sky.

Hedwig would be fine.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Harry noticed when he woke up was that it was still dark, the second being the feeling that something was extremely wrong.

It was as though something that shouldn't exist not only did exist but existed so much that it made him feel physically nauseous just being near it.

He slowly sat up on his nest of blankets and pillows, leaning against the slightly crumbling stone wall, bringing a hand up to rest against his forehead as a wave of light-headedness hit him.

He heard a branch snap and turned to face the smashed window, peering into the overgrown garden and stared as he saw a tall- although everyone was tall to him now -shadowy figure holding some kind of large box.

He could feel both of his hearts speed up in panic as the figure walked closer to the cottage, and dove towards his backpack, digging through the mess inside to pull out his invisibility cloak.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Nana looking at him in concern and then towards his backpack.

He frowned down at it, the fabric of his cloak grasped tightly in both of his hands, then shrugged, sitting cross-legged on the floor, pulling the bag onto his lap and flinging the cloak over himself, making sure that each part of himself was tucked away under it, just in time too, as the figure walked through the door.

The figure was a man, he couldn't tell how old by looks alone, as he’d never been very good at guessing, but he could tell that he was a lot older than he should have been.

He had short brown hair and wore a very long coat, and he felt very, very wrong.

The man looked down at the box he'd seen him carrying outside, it looked a little bit like someone had taken a boombox and had attempted to attach what looked like a rotary phone dial to the side of it, there was some kind of screen next to it and it had a round, dish-like antenna sticking out of the top.

He frowned and looked around the room that he was sat in, and Harry couldn't fight the urge to hold his breath as if doing so would make the man leave faster.

"Doctor?" The man called out hesitantly.

Harry frowned as the man put the box down and began walking around the lower levels of the house, he slowly breathed in as the need for air became apparent, attempting to be as quiet as he could.

He winced as he heard the stairs creaking, knowing that the man was now above him somewhere didn't do much to calm his nerves when he knew that most of the floorboards up there were so rotten that any new pressure could cause them to collapse; it was the entire reason that he didn't go up there.

He heard the man curse, as a loud crack sounded, followed by a small plank of wood and a lot of dust falling to the ground just in front of where he was sat.

It felt as though he had been waiting for hours when the man finally came back down the stairs, he watched as he let out a disappointed sigh and walked through the door.

He looked out the window and saw as he leant against the outside wall, holding what looked like a thin silver book without pages, it had a screen on the front and the man was tapping at it, making it do things.

Harry could tell that the technology he was seeing the man using was not from this time or place, it was far too advanced for what he'd seen, computers and televisions were large and chunky with pictures that were sometimes hard to see, but as he peered out of the window at the strange device, he could tell it was clearer than any of the technology he'd ever seen in his life.

As fascinated as he was by the futuristic technology, he knew he had to get out of there before the man came back inside and decided to do a more thorough search for whatever, or more likely whoever it was he was looking for, as he heard the man muttering about 'him not moving'.

Sighing almost silently, he made sure that the man wasn't looking inside and poked his head out of his cloak.

"Nana," He whispered near silently, but the ghostly woman heard him anyway.

"Harry?" She whispered back, just as quietly, and he could hear the concern in her voice that made him feel sad.

"I can't stay," He whispered, voice shaky as tears began to build up. "He hurts, Nana, I need to leave, I can't stay around him."

She frowned down at him, then turned to face the man who was still propped up against the wall outside, seemingly tapping nonsense onto his machine.

"He hurts so much," He whimpered, rubbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his pyjamas, quietly stumbling to his feet to pull clothes out of his bag, getting dressed under his cloak would be frustrating, but possible.

"I understand, Harry," She informed him, louder than she had been after she'd figured out that the man couldn't see her. "You said yesterday that you felt the need to go elsewhere, so follow your instincts, I believe they'll guide you where you need to be, even if at some points it doesn't seem like it."

Tears fell down his face as he tied the laces on his shoes, and he held back a sob. "What about you?" He asked Helga.

"I think I should take your advice," She hummed.

Harry tilted his head to the side. "My advice?"

She nodded. "I believe you are correct in the fact that my family has waited long enough for me to join them on the other side," Her voice was gentle as his eyes widened. "Just remember, this cottage, run-down though it may be, is open to you, should you ever need it again."

Harry nodded, finishing his tying and moving on to packing the last of his belongings into his bag, the blankets and pillows only just fitting in on top of his clothes, books, stationery, food, and money.

He lifted the backpack and found that although it should have been too heavy for his small body to reasonably carry, that it was surprisingly light in weight to him, something he hadn't noticed while shopping.

He frowned and shook his head; it was definitely not the time to be pondering his own strength.

He pulled his cloak off just long enough to get his backpack secure on his back, then flung it back over himself.

"Goodbye, Nana," He whispered.

The ghost gave him a sad but encouraging smile. "Goodbye, Harry."

He took a deep breath and walked silently out of the living room, taking in all of the little cracks and dents in the walls and floors, committing the scent of wildflowers and moss-covered wood to memory, listening to the creaks of the chipped rocking chair that was being pushed by the slight breeze flowing from the open door and cracked windows.

He stepped over the box machine that the man had left in the hallway and made his way out of the cottage that had been his home for just over a week, and wasn't that funny to think about? It hadn't even been two weeks since his little accident, and yet it felt like it was months ago.

Once he reached the edge of the woods, he stopped and turned to face the cottage, watching sadly as he saw Nana fade from sight.

He stayed there for a few more moments, only continuing when he saw the man get up to check the box once again.

And so, he once again headed out into the woods, walking away from a place he knew, where he could get shelter, and into an unknown future.

But unlike the last time, he was a little more confident in what he was doing, he would get where he needed to be eventually, he just had to hope.

The grass underfoot crunched against his shoes as he made his way down the now somewhat familiar path to the local town, only the moon to guide him in the dark hours, and yet he could see where he was going just as easy as it would have been in the day, although, the colours were muted, and he was barely able to tell the difference between yellow and blue, everything might as well be grey for how difficult it was to tell.

He could see some streetlights in the distance as he grew closer and closer to the other side of the woods and picked up his pace, gently pushing through the bushes once he reached the edge and stumbling out onto the path.

Parked on the side of the road closest to the path leading to the woods was a large black van with a logo printed onto its side that said 'Torchwood', he stared at it for a moment and then shook his head, walking down the street to where he knew the train station was.

He hoped they had a map so he could pick a train that went northeast.

Chapter Text

Harry nervously grasped at the straps of his backpack as the train he had been on for the past three hours slowly shuddered to a stop, he knew no one could see him thanks to his invisibility cloak, and yet that did not stop the gnawing feeling that someone was going to somehow find him anyway.

Sighing, he carefully stood up, rearranging his bag on his back, and slipping through the open doors and into the early morning light.

The bad feeling he'd had when that man had been around had long since faded, but now the tugging feeling of needing to go somewhere unknown had grown.

'You are close.' it almost seemed to whisper.

He didn't know where he was anymore, just that he was in the northern part of England, not quite in Scotland, but far beyond London.

Harry quickly walked through the openings in the crowd of sleepy early morning travellers, out of the train station and into the busy streets of the town he'd come to, cars and busses filled the roads as people headed to work, he spotted the occasional cyclist, one of which was making his newspaper rounds.

He smiled slightly and began walking along through the town, following the pull that was so very close now, he passed bakeries, and bookshops, clothes shops, a little supermarket, and even a toy shop.

Eventually, he made it to the edge of the town, where it gave way to an industrial estate, factories and warehouses littered each side of the streets, and yet the pull continued.

And then he was looking up at it, a large three-story warehouse, it was in great condition, so not abandoned, but looking through the window proved it to be empty.

'Here,' the pull told him, and so he made his way to the door and pulled the handle down, pushing inwards as he went, and was somewhat surprised to find it was unlocked.

He gave the building a nervous look, but shuffled inside, shutting the door behind him, looking around at the wide empty space with rooms circling the edge on each floor.

Curiosity piqued, Harry walked up to the room closest to him and pulled it open, revealing some sort of break room without any furniture, he thought it was a break room anyways, due to the kitchen counter and gas stove built into the wall. Shutting the door, he walked to the next room, finding it to be completely empty, the next six rooms were also empty, but the next one was toilets. The next room was a stairwell leading up to the next floors, and the rest of the rooms until the back of the warehouse were also empty, a quick examination of the other side of the floor lead to the discovery that the rooms were mirrored, with another break room, bathroom, and stairwell in the same places, the other two floors were the same.

By the time he'd finished with his examination of the building it was far past midday, he'd been up since the early hours of the morning due to his unwanted visitor and hadn't eaten since the train ride.

He made his way to the second floor, not wanting to be on the top floor, but also not wanting to be on the ground floor, and picked out one of the break rooms to get settled in. He didn't want to be in one of the open empty rooms, just in case he needed to hide, as there were quite a few hiding spots he'd managed to figure out in the break rooms, not to mention they had locks on the inside of the doors, unlike the other rooms.

Sighing, he pulled his invisibility cloak off and settled on the carpeted ground humming slightly at the way his legs ached from all of the walking he'd done that day, both through two towns and his thorough exploration of the warehouse he was currently residing in.

He leant forward and slipped his backpack off, opening it up and digging under the blankets and pillows to grab some of the food and a bottle of water, pulling it out with just a bit of effort as he fought to keep everything on top of it inside.

He quickly pulled the plastic cover off of the pasta bowl he'd grabbed and dug in with the little fork that came with it.

Now that he was away from the panic and no longer had anything to distract himself with, he found himself feeling rather lonely, Hedwig was away delivering a letter to Sirius, and likely wouldn't be back until either late that night or the next day, and Nana was gone now, and that left him alone in a warehouse in a town that he didn't know.

There wasn't a single sound in that building apart from his breathing, his heartsbeats and his thoughts.

It was so quiet.

SLAM!

His hearts skipped a beat, and he almost choked on a piece of pasta as the door of the warehouse was violently flung open, he quickly scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pasta as it spilt across the ground, and walking to the door as quietly as he could, turning the lock that he'd had a feeling that he'd be needing.

Part of his instinct was screaming 'danger!' at him, and another was telling him 'You're where you need to be, you will be safe.'

"Set the parts down here." He heard a high and slightly echoey voice order someone, followed by some heavy footsteps.

He walked as lightly as he could to the edge of the window, and peered out as much as he'd dare, looking down at the figures below.

There were many men and women, all of which were carrying large metal contraptions, wires, tubes, and other... things that he didn't know, they were all wearing what looked like blue robes, and he almost thought they were wizards and witches, but something didn't seem to add up.

Footsteps left the building again, and Harry stared at what left the building.

It... they? Harry didn't know what gender they were, but calling something living 'it' seemed rude, was a tall slender being, their shoulders came up to the top of the head of the tallest man in the group, they had a very long neck, and a small somewhat delicate looking head, they were covered in deep black scales, and had pure white eyes, with multiple small white horns that covered the back of their head, curling about looking almost like hair. Their arms reached down to their knees, and they had exceptionally long fingers, their legs reminded him of how a cat or dog's back legs and were tipped with long sharp claws.

Harry had absolutely no idea what he was looking at, but he was afraid.

He gulped and moved away from the window, he didn't know what they were there for, but he had no doubts that it was something bad.

He carefully made his way back to where he'd been eating his pasta, scraping the fallen pasta back into the container as quietly as he could, clipping the lid back on, freezing in place as it made a few loud clicking sounds, relaxing after a few moments as no-one came to investigate the sound. The pot went back into his backpack, along with his bottle of water, and then he picked it and his invisibility cloak up and made his way to one of the under the counter cupboards.

While he normally disliked cupboards, thanks to his aunt and uncle's idea for a suitable bedroom for him, he'd always viewed small spaces as a safe space, and even if he wasn't safe, he could at least pretend he was.

He propped the backpack up against the side of the cupboard, and crawled inside, carefully arranging the cloak over both himself and the bag, and then carefully shutting the door behind him, trapping himself in darkness with only the sounds of the strange people and the even stranger being dragging things about and yelling orders about.

Harry was alone, trapped, and very much scared.

He wanted to cry.

Chapter Text

Hours dragged by as Harry sat in the dark cupboard listening as the metal dragging became a construction project, the sound of drills and hammers echoing about in the building.

He didn't know what they were doing, but from what he could hear and understand, the construction was almost done, as the machine, he believed, had been mostly pre-constructed offsite.

Some of the people had been in and out of the different rooms around him and had even tried to enter the room he was camped out in but had apparently been too busy to attempt to 'unjam' the door, something which he was grateful for.

He hated that he was too scared to move, sitting there in the small dark cupboard, listening carefully to each and every move that these people made, trying not to get caught, it reminded him far too much of the Dursleys.

The sound of the unknown being's voice echoed around the warehouse as they ordered their human subjects around, human subjects who, from what Harry could tell, didn't have the ability to act on their own free will.

"Hypnosis," He muttered, remembering Nana's words as she attempted to help him to understand himself.

He'd not quite managed to fully control that ability himself, and each time he'd tried using it after the first time, where he'd been too panicked to understand, he'd felt dirty. It wasn't something he liked doing and seeing this much taller being controlling a large group against their will put a sour taste in his mouth.

He was scared.

The harsh scraping of metal objects against concrete flooring continued, he heard every clang, bang, and slam, metal hitting metal, metal hitting glass...

Metal hitting flesh.

He was even more scared when, after another hour of this it all stopped.

The tall being was talking, but he couldn't make out the words, but he did hear cheering, and Harry swallowed nervously, understanding that whatever they'd been working on was finished.

The cheering was suddenly drowned out by what he could only assume was the machine powering on, gears clanking against other gears, and water gushing through pipes, it was extremely noisy, but the worst part was the smell.

Where before Harry could make out the smells around the room and inside the cupboard, the machine let off an awful smell that drowned it all out, covering everything in its scent, he couldn't even smell his own bag, which was pressed up against his face.

Amongst all that noise and the off-putting smell, he almost missed the sound of smashing glass from the room below, he tilted his head in slight curiosity as he strained to hear what was happening over the noise of the machine.

"Intruders!" He heard the being cry out, followed by a large number of footsteps all obviously chasing after said intruders.

What he did not expect was for them to pause at the door to his room, one of the people loudly whispering to another person. "This door is apparently jammed; they won't look for us in here."

The statement was quickly followed by an odd buzzing noise, which had the door unlocking, and three people pushing their way into the room and slamming it shut, locking it behind them.

"Not jammed, just locked," One of them said, and Harry took the chance to look out of a crack in the cupboard door. "That means that someone else is in here, that door can't be locked from the outside, and the window's completely shut with the handle down."

The man that spoke was tall, had brown hair, and was wearing a suit with shoes that absolutely did not match but suited him all the same.

"What do you mean there's someone in here? This building's secure, no one could have got in while all this was going on!"

The person that spoke this time was a man that reminded him of Snape, with his greasy black hair and his tone of voice, the top of his head reached the shoulders of the tall man, and he was wearing the same odd robes that the human subjects were but was not being controlled like the others were.

"Well, they obviously got in before you all arrived!" The tall man spoke again.

Harry's attention was taken away from the squabbling men when the third person in the group walked up to the cupboard, he pulled his head away from the doors as she opened the one that was next to the cupboard he was hidden in, hitting his head on the side, causing his cloak to slip off of his head, he quickly scrambled to put it away, knowing there was no point in hiding anymore as the people knew that he was there, and he didn’t want them to discover it.

He held his breath as he heard her move to stand in front of the cupboard he was hidden in, squinting as the doors were opened and his eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

She stared at him for a moment, and he stared back.

She turned her head to face the taller man and called out to him. “Doctor?” The other two people grew quiet, and she continued. “Doctor, there’s a child in here.”

The tall man quickly turned his head to look in their direction, his eyes landing on him and Harry tried pushing himself further into the back of the cupboard as he walked over and crouched down.

“Hello there,” He greeted him kindly, and Harry looked up at him warily. “Did you lock the door?” The man questioned him.

Harry frowned but nodded, gripping his bag tighter as the other man in the room scoffed.

“Why the fuck is a child in here?”

The tall man who the woman had called Doctor turned and tutted at the other man. “Watch your language, there is a small child here!”

Harry let a small giggle out at his words, and the Doctor turned back to face him and wriggled his eyebrows slightly, which made him giggle more, his instincts were screaming at him that this Doctor was safe, so he didn’t feel the need to try and merge with the back of the cupboard as he sat down next to the door of the cupboard, followed quickly by the woman and after a moment, the other man joined them.

“So, how did you get into the building then?” The Doctor asked.

Harry blinked, opening his mouth to respond, but flinching as he heard a loud crash from just outside of the door that separated the break room from the rest of the building, his head snapped over to the door, eyeing it warily as though someone would break it down any second. He held his breath, not daring to make even the slightest movement as he strained to listen, only taking a breath when he heard footsteps heading away from the door.

Once he was certain the person or being beyond the door was gone, he hesitantly looked up at the Doctor, blushing slightly as he looked down at him with a patient and understanding look on his face. “I walked in the door,” He muttered in response to his earlier question. “The front door,” He clarified at the looks he received from the others in the room. “It was open, I was exploring,” He scrunched his face up in thought. “I sat in here to eat lunch, then lots of people came and it got really loud and that tall person came and it was scary so I locked the door.”

The Doctor gave him a gentle pat on the arm as he looked over at the other man. “Well then, there you go, that’s why the door to this room was locked!”

The other man scoffed but said nothing in response.

The Doctor looked down at Harry and smiled at him once again, it made him feel as though he were truly safe, as though he would make sure nothing would ever hurt him, it was a nice feeling.

“I’m the Doctor,” He greeted, Harry nodded, having worked that out from what the only woman in the room had called him, although it could have been a title, something told him otherwise. “This is Martha Jones,” He gestured at the woman, and Harry gave her a shy smile as she waved at him. “And this is-“

“Thomas Green,” The man butted in to introduce himself, ignoring the Doctor’s huff.

“I’m Harry,” He muttered back, hugging his bag tighter once again at Thomas’ snort, he decided he really didn’t like the man.

“Harry what?” He questioned.

He frowned, burying his face into the top of his backpack. “Just Harry.”

“Oh joy, a Doctor with no name and a boy with no family,” He ground out.

Harry flinched at the man’s words, something which the Doctor seemed to notice, as he turned a glare at the other man. “That’s quite rude,” He snapped. “I know I’m rude but at least I’m not insensitive.”

Before the other man could respond more loud banging was heard from outside the room, and the Doctor turned to look at the door.

“I think we should be focusing on the issue at hand first,” Martha spoke.

“Right,” The Doctor agreed.

All Harry could do was watch as the three began brainstorming on what to do, he hoped that the Doctor was able to fix the problem as his instincts told him he would, no matter how childish it felt.

Chapter Text

Harry looked over at the Doctor from where he’d curled up in the cupboard with his bag by his feet, as his stomach growled, frowning as he realised that the three adults in the room also hadn’t eaten since they’d entered, which was almost twelve hours prior, in that time he’d had a nap as the adults made and discarded several plans on how to deal with the being’s project.

He glanced at Martha who looked quite tired, then at Thomas who looked agitated, then huffed, shuffling himself out of the cupboard, catching their attention as he pulled himself to sit up from where he’d landed awkwardly on his left hand from his crawl off the raised bottom of the cabinet.

“Are you alright there?” Martha asked him, and he turned to beam at her, tugging his backpack out of the cupboard.

“I’m fine, I’m just,” He frowned, tugging at his bag as it got caught on something, only stopping as the Doctor leant over to untangle it and pull it out for him. “Thank you!”

The Doctor chuckled and leant over, ruffling his hair. “You’re welcome.”

Once the Doctor had retracted his hand, he made quick work of unclipping the buckles keeping the bag shut, then pulled his things from the bag, his invisibility cloak bundles in with the bedding he’d managed to pack, followed by some scraps of paper and a few pens, as well as two hoodies, revealing the food he’d bought with him.

He huffed as he pulled out the still half full pasta that had spilt on the floor hours prior, and placed it to the side, then pulled out several bottles of water, and a few nonperishable cans of food that he’d found tasted alright when they weren’t cooked, canned hot dogs that could be eaten cold, some baked beans, and a tin of tuna, he then placed them on the floor between himself and the three adults who had stopped talking to stare at him in bewilderment.

“Harry?”

He turned to look at Martha who was frowning down at him, a look that he couldn’t understand on her face.

“Did you…” She looked over at his bag, still half full, then at the items he’d pulled from it. “Have you been carrying that around by yourself?”

He tilted his head slightly in confusion, then nodded, frowning as she leant back and covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes, he then looked over at the Doctor who was frowning back at him, then at Thomas, who was also frowning, and for once Harry thought he didn’t look quite like Snape.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked.

“You’re like three,” Thomas snapped out, looking between him and his bag. “Where the hell are your parents?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, only to get cut off by Martha grabbing him and pulling him into her lap, hugging him to her chest. He froze for a moment at the unexpected contact, then melted into it, feeling tears spring into his eyes at the comfort, it was nothing like the hugs he got from Hermione when she was excited and showing her passion, and it was nothing like Mrs Weasley’s overbearing hugs that made him feel like she was going to wrap him up in bubble wrap.

No, it was… Nice.

He sniffled, turning his head to the side, listening to Martha’s singular heartbeat, and watching from the corner of his eye as the Doctor split up the food that he’d pulled out of his bag into four portions on bits of paper for them, Thomas slowly sipping at one of the bottles of water that he’d grabbed while staring out of the window at the moon that was now high in the sky.

Moments later, the Doctor passed two papers over to him and Martha, and she removed her arms from around him, freeing them both up to grab the food. It wasn’t much, just two hot dogs, a small lump of tuna and some beans which were quickly soaking through the paper, but Harry didn’t mind, setting the paper onto his lap to munch at the cold food, not paying any attention to what the three adults were talking about as he focused on eating the beans before his makeshift plate dissolved.

Once he’d finished his beans, he moved onto the tuna, then slowly nibbled at one of the two hot dogs, finding himself rather full, leaving the second one on the paper once he’d finished it, and slipped off of Martha’s lap, grabbing one of the remaining bottles of water, pouring some onto his hands to wash the juices from the beans and the brine from the tuna and sausages off his hands, wiping his no longer sticky hands on his t-shirt once he was finished, then taking a quick drink of the water.

Harry looked over at Martha as she let out a yawn, which he barely heard over the cracking of metals running against each other, whereas they’d all been talking loud enough to be heard over the running machines, her yawn didn’t reach anywhere near the volume of their prior talking, he could see Thomas laying down on the floor, placing his head on top of his arm. It took him a moment to realise that they’d all been awake for a long time and were ready to sleep for the night, he looked over at the Doctor, who was sat leaning against a wall near one of the windows, watching over them, and he frowned, looking at Martha who’d found his pillow, but had kindly left him his blanket which contained his cloak.

He turned back to the Doctor, opening his mouth to ask him a question, when he saw something outside of the window, white feathers, and a beak tapping at the window, unheard with the sound of the machines running in the building, and Harry beamed, rushing as quickly as his little legs could take him to the window. “Hedwig!”

The three adults turned to look at him, Thomas with an annoyed look on his face, as he attempted to reach the lock on the window to open it and let Hedwig inside, a hand reached up and opened it for him, and he turned to see the Doctor stood behind him, a somewhat confused, but indulgent look on his face as he let his owl into the building.

Once there was a large enough gap, Hedwig took the chance to fly into the room, landing on the counter above the cupboard he’d been crouched inside earlier in the day, and letting out a soft bark, as though to say. ‘I’m back, did you miss me?”

Harry stumbled over to his owl, carefully running his fingers through her feathers, helping to settle a few feathers that had become dislodged in her flight, only stopping once she shoved her foot in his face, forcing him to notice the letter tied to her.

“Sorry Hedwig,” He muttered as he gently removed the letter, which had obviously been written by Sirius, considering the name on the front, he quickly ran over to his bag and placed the letter inside and grabbed his discarded hot dog from the paper on the floor and trotted back to her, offering the sausage to her, which she happily accepted.

“She’s a beautiful owl,” the Doctor muttered as he joined him by the counter.

“Yeah!” Harry agreed, carefully running his finger over her beak. “Her name’s Hedwig.”

He chuckled. “So, I heard.”

They remained in silence for a moment, then without warning, he picked him up under his armpits, and Harry froze as his feet left the ground, only relaxing again once he’d been placed down on the counter next to Hedwig. He stared up at him in bewilderment and the Doctor looked down at him sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked for your permission to pick you up first,” He apologized. “I just thought…” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” He muttered. “No-one’s done that before.”

The Doctor sighed, leaning over onto the floor to pick up the blanket and cloak, covering him with them as he lay down onto the counter, his finger gently petting Hedwig.

“Are you not going to sleep as well?” He questioned the Doctor as he sat on the edge of the counter by his feet, letting out a small yawn as he spoke.

He let out a small laugh and grinned at him. “I’m not human, Harry, I don’t need to sleep as long as you do.”

He blinked sleepily, looking at the man and thought back to the man who was wrong, the one who had entered the cottage he’d been staying in previously, and the name he’d called out, and as he drifted to sleep, he wondered if this was the same person that the man had been looking for.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up as the sun began to rise, the soft morning light flooding in through the windows almost made up for the noise of the machines running and the still heady scent of oil, smoke, and steam. He sneezed, catching the attention of Hedwig, who hopped over to him and began preening his hair, only stopping as he moved to sit up, his blanket and cloak falling into his lap as he leant against the wall, his feet not even reaching the end of the countertop that he’d slept on, his shoes had been taken off and were placed on the end of the counter.

He stretched and glanced around the room, Martha and Thomas were still asleep on the floor, and the Doctor was glancing out of the window, he quickly shuffled his way across the counter until he was next to him, grabbing the windowsill and peering out of it to see what had caught his attention.

On the pavement outside of the building, several of the humans that had been hypnotised by the being were asleep, police had been called, as the empty police car showed, but there were no police to be seen, he frowned and looked up at the Doctor in confusion, and he sighed, carefully ruffling Harry’s hair once he noticed him.

“The Tychilla took them,” He informed him, and Harry frowned.

“Tychilla?”

The Doctor turned to face him, a small smile on his face. “That’s the species that the alien here is,” He glanced outside once more. “Or rather that’s the singular, like ‘cat’ vs ‘cats’, multiple of them would be Tychillies,” He pointed to a seemingly random spot in the sky, and Harry squinted, barely making out the stars past the atmosphere, and the cluster he was pointing at. “They’re from around that point in space.”

“Aliens?” He tilted his head and the Doctor chuckled, nodding, Harry beamed at him. “That’s so cool!”

The Doctor grinned. “Isn’t it?”

A chuckle caught their attention and they turned to look at Martha who had just woken up, Harry also noticed that Thomas was awake, although he was trying very hard to go back to sleep from the looks of it.

“You boys having fun?” She teased, and Harry beamed at her.

“Mr Doctor says that the tall being is an alien!” He quickly made his way across the counter to be closer to her. “That’s so cool!”

“Do you want to know something even cooler?” She grinned conspiratorially at him.

He blinked and tilted his head. “What?”

“The Doctor’s also an alien.”

Harry looked over at the Doctor who looked rather amused, then back to Martha who was still grinning at him, then back over at the Doctor and gasped. “That’s what you meant by not being human last night!”

The Doctor grinned as he opened the window for Hedwig who was pecking at it to get out, likely for a hunt. “Yep,” He shut the window after her and turned to face him, grin slipping from his face as Harry slid over to him on the countertop, almost toppling off the edge as he did so, only stopped by the Doctor catching him.

Harry opened his mouth to begin questioning the man, when Thomas let out a loud groan and sat up, sending a glare at them.

“Either you two shut up or let’s get this mess sorted out.” He gestured at the door.

The Doctor sighed and ruffled his hair once more. “You can ask me all the questions you want,” He looked over at the door and frowned. “Once all of this is sorted, that is.”

Harry nodded and the Doctor moved to join Martha and Thomas on the floor as they spoke in hushed tones so that he wouldn’t overhear them, and he rolled his eyes, turning his focus onto pulling his shoes back on, the Velcro making the task much easier than it would have been with laces with his small hands.

Once he’d finished putting them on, he slid off the counter and wandered over to the three adults, who had all stood from the floor and were making their way to the door, the Doctor paused in his stride to turn to him. “It would be safer for you to stay here,” He informed him, a very serious look on his face that reminded him of Professor McGonagall.

He frowned. “Why?”

The Doctor sighed. “We’re going to confront the Tychilla, and it’s going to be very dangerous,” He pat Harry on the head once, as he said that, and he looked up at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt, okay?”

Harry nodded, and the Doctor gave him a small smile in return, walking over to the door, joining Martha and Thomas, and he watched in silence as they unlocked the door and slipped out, the buzzing noise he’d heard the previous day sounded from the other side of the door, causing the lock to click shut, leaving Harry alone once again.

He frowned, finding the silence of the room unsettling now that he’d been sharing it with other people, he quickly made his way to the door, sitting next to it and placing his ear against it, straining to hear the commotion that was beginning over the sound of the clanking machine, he heard as the Tychilla gave a sound of alert, which had the hypnotised humans in the building rushing to capture the Doctor, Martha, and Thomas, heard all of the rushed footsteps as they rushed over the balcony that oversaw the middle of the warehouse, only to be trapped between two groups of humans and captured.

He wanted to scream, to cry out to the nice people he’d met as he heard the humans conversing on the best way to tie a rope around three people, and winced as he heard loud thuds on the stairs, as they dragged them down to the ground floor.

While he was listening to the alien’s apparent monologuing, a voice spoke, seemingly close to him, but unaware, and Harry strained to listen to it. ‘Need to get out of here,’ He pulled away from the door, startled at the Doctor’s voice, knowing he was too far away to sound as clear as he did. ‘Got to unplug the machine.’

Harry frowned as he stood to his feet, while he was unsure as to why he could hear the Doctor, he had a pretty good idea that he wasn’t speaking out loud, as the Tychilla hadn’t said anything about him talking.

‘The plug socket.” An image of a wire leading away from the incredibly tall machine that reached almost to the ceiling of the warehouse flashed in his mind, and he stepped backwards with a gasp, he glanced at the door, then rushed over to the counter, pulling his invisibility cloak out of his blanket and throwing it over himself, then made his way back to the door, quietly unlocking it and slipping out of the room.

The machine that had been built was quite imposing, with how tall it was and how many tubes fell from it, Harry could see several different coloured liquids travelling up pipes and falling into little compartments with tiny windows, mixing about with each other, then being sucked up into more pipes.

Harry peered over the balcony down at the bottom of the building, where he could see the Doctor and Martha tied up together, Thomas nowhere to be found, the Tychilla towered over them as it talked, a small object was just out of their reach, although the Doctor was trying his best to stretch his leg out to grab it with his foot without alerting the alien.

He frowned and stepped away from the railing, making his way over to the stairwell, creeping down them to the ground floor, making sure that he didn’t bump into any of the humans that were stationed around the building, although he was glad to find that they didn’t have any secret way to see past the invisibility that was granted by his cloak.

He looked up at the giant machine as he entered the atrium, feeling incredibly small in the face of it, he turned to look at where he’d seen the wire in the glimpse he’d gotten from the Doctor, and quickly ran up to it, following it to the wall where it was plugged in, and Harry tilted his head in confusion. “A normal plug socket?” He muttered under his breath, so that none of the people around him could hear him.

With a shrug, he pulled it out, turning to look at the machine as the clanking slowed down to a stop, it made a loud hissing sound as the liquids inside of it stopped bubbling, and the building became suddenly quiet, still with all of the smells the machine had been letting out lingering, but no longer being added to.

He was torn away from looking at the machine as the Tychilla stalked around the corner, anger plastered on their face, and Harry felt his nerves rise, stepping backwards as it came closer and tripping over the edge of his cloak, landing harshly against the cold metal floor as he was revealed to the alien.

He could hear the Doctor and Martha shouting at him but couldn’t make the words out over the anxious thumping of his hearts in his ears. The alien moved as though they were going to lunge at him, and he quickly pulled himself up off the floor, grabbing his cloak as he went, narrowly dodging the long fingers that had made to grab his leg.

Fear pushed him on as he ran, tucking his cloak into his pocket as he ducked under the legs of the hypnotised humans that had come to aid their ruler, and for once he thanked the size of his new body. As he turned past the now inactive machine, he noticed that the Doctor had managed to knock whatever it was that he’d been after closer to himself.

“Get back here, you brat,” The Tychilla’s echo filled voice hissed out, their fingers grazing the back of his leg.

Several humans ran to create a wall to block his path, and he turned, trying to move away, to no avail as he was grabbed by his ankle and pulled high into the air, causing him to scream as he was dangled in front of the alien’s face.

“Got you,” The white eyes stared at him in anger. “What to do with you?” Their lips pulled back to reveal several rows of sharp teeth, he whimpered and looked away, spotting the Doctor and Martha now freed and running over to them.

The Tychilla turned to glance at them, then turned back to Harry, giving him a nasty grin. His fear rose, as his instincts screamed at him to ‘run, run, run!’ and he felt the alien’s grip on his ankle grow stronger as he was pulled as far up into the air as they could get him, then felt the air rush around him as the alien pulled down as hard as they could.

Harry screamed in pain as his face cracked on the contact, blood dribbling down his head, he couldn’t hear anything over the white noise that had filled his ears, but the feeling of nausea as he was moved, then additional pain, this time to the back of his head informed him that the alien had thrown him against the ground again.

The pressure on his ankle let up and he let out a whimper as it was replaced by someone moving his head slightly. He cracked his eyes open slightly and could make out Martha’s face, her eyes filled with tears, and he frowned, lifting his hand to touch her face. “M… Martha,” He whimpered, dropping his hand down.

He could see her lips moving, saw as she turned to face the Doctor who had joined her and was looking at him with a very sad look on his face and he felt tears filling his eyes as he was jostled slightly by Martha.

“You were very nice adults,” He whispered out, because he wanted them to know that, and he wasn’t stupid, he knew what happened when people were smashed about, especially small children. “Thank you.”

He could see Martha shake her head, and the Doctor pulled her into a side hug, where she buried her face into his shoulder, and he shut his eyes, feeling as his magic desperately searched the things nearest to him to find a way to save him, and as everything faded, he felt it grab onto something and pull some of it back to him, filling his chest with a slight warmth.

Chapter Text

Martha turned to look at the body of the little boy that she’d discovered in the cupboard, his face was somewhat caved in from where it had been smashed against the hard floor, his right arm was broken and he was coated in his own blood, but if she ignored all of that, she could almost pretend the toddler was sleeping.

“Martha,” The Doctor’s voice was quiet, subdued, and she turned to glance at him. There was an obvious look of sadness on his face that she’d never seen before as he looked at Harry, then looked back at her. “We need to move, the Tychilla will return any minute.”

“Where?” Her voice cracked, and she let out a sob, her tears finally beginning to fall.

“The,” He trailed off for a moment, reaching out to tuck a strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear. “That break room, Harry,” She saw him blink and swallow, fighting back his own tears. “He left his stuff there.”

She frowned but nodded. “I’m not leaving him here when we go back upstairs,” The Doctor glanced at her as she spoke. “He deserves better than to be left here where they could take his body and do whatever to it.”

The Doctor nodded, and Martha sighed, moving to crouch next to the toddler, and moved to pick him up, her hand brushing against his bare arm as she did so, and she quickly pulled away from his body with a hiss of pain, looking down at her hand, and frowning.

“What’s wrong?” The Doctor questioned.

She looked at her hand, a bright red mark where she’d touched his arm. “I just got burnt,” She held her hand out for him to look at, and his brows furrowed in confusion.

She watched as the Doctor reached out and gently grabbed his arm, also pulling back in pain, he turned his hand over, and Martha saw that all his fingertips were a bright red, showing that he’d also been burnt.

He looked at his hand in bewilderment and frowned. “That’s strange,” He muttered, pulling his sonic screwdriver from his pocket, he glanced over it for a moment, then turned it on his hand, the tip glowing blue as it buzzed, and he frowned. “There’s nothing unusual about it, it’s just a normal burn.”

Martha frowned. “But how?”

The Doctor glanced at her, then over at Harry. “Well, there’s one way to find out.”

She watched as he turned the sonic on the toddler, running it along his arm where they’d been burnt, watched as his expression became progressively more confused, then as he carefully pulled his t-shirt up, running it along his chest. As he did so, his expression kept changing, eventually settling on a wide-eyed look of absolute shock, which was quickly replaced by some sort of realisation, then he turned to her.

“Martha, we need to move away from him now.”

She blinked. “What?”

She didn’t have a chance to argue with him, as he stood up and grabbed her arm, pulling her up onto her feet and away from the toddler.

“Doctor, what’s going on?” She hissed out as she tripped over her feet.

The Doctor frowned at her, stopping once they were stood several feet away from the boy, they both turned to look at him. “He’s about to-“

He was cut off as a bright golden glow, reminiscent of fire emitted from the child, and Martha could feel the heat it gave off from where she stood, and suddenly understood why the Doctor had moved her from her spot next to the child, knowing that if she’d remained where she’d been crouching, she would have gotten severely burnt.

“Spontaneous combustion?” She hissed out, eyes wide.

“No,” The Doctor breathed, an odd tone to his voice. “He’s Regenerating.”

And it was at that moment that she recognised the tone in his voice as longing, like he was seeing something he’d given up hope on witnessing and wasn’t quite believing his eyes. It was strange for her, seeing him so vulnerable, she could tell that he was struggling to come to terms with what they were witnessing, it painted a completely different picture than the man who relied on her to keep him grounded while also keeping her away from getting close to him.

“Regenerating?”

“Yes, he’s,” The Doctor sighed, slowly moving closer to the boy as the glow began to slowly dim. “Time Lords,” He began slowly, picking the toddler up as the energy faded. “We have an ability that allows us to continue on in life when we die, injury, illness, age.”

Martha walked over to the Doctor and looked down at Harry, his skin had gained a slight tan, a much healthier look on the toddler than the sickly pale he’d been before the energy had coated him, his face and arms were dotted with freckles, and his hair which had grown to shoulder length, falling in soft curls was a light brown compared to the short and messy deep black it had been before.

“He looks healthy,” She muttered as they quickly made their way to the stairs, heading back to the break room, just in time as the door was thrown open and some humans began to make their way back into the warehouse from when the Doctor had managed to trick them all outside and lock them out. The Doctor was barely paying attention to where he was walking, instead looking at the boy that he was carefully cradling in his arms, two fingers against his wrist, feeling his pulses, and Martha sighed.

“So, Time Lords cheating death?” She prompted him.

He hummed. “Yes, it’s not fun, quite painful actually, and the Regeneration Sickness,” He trailed off, then shook his head. “We release an energy, and it changes who we are, physically and mentally, we retain our memories, but our personalities can be quite different, and some skills can be forgotten depending on how it goes.”

“And that’s what Harry did?” She glanced at the sleeping boy, raising an eyebrow as a puff of golden smoke seemed to slip from his mouth causing the Doctor to cough slightly as it wafted into his face, and he pushed the door to the break room open, Martha quickly following him inside, locking the door behind her as the Doctor walked over to the counter, sitting on top of it and leaning Harry against his chest. Were it not for the dried blood caked on his little body, and the fact that he looked almost nothing like the black-haired child they’d met the day prior, she never would have guessed that he’d been through such a traumatic experience.

“Yes,” The Doctor agreed, staring down at the boy. “He’s…”

“A Time Lord?” She questioned when he didn’t finish his word.

She frowned in confusion as he nodded then shook his head. “Tot,” The word was spoken like he didn’t believe it, and she could somewhat understand, from what she’d been told he was the only one left, and to find another Time Lord, a child one at that.

The Doctor took a deep breath in, and Martha politely pretended that she couldn’t see the tears in his eyes as he hugged the child close to his chest. “Oh Rassilon,” She heard him mutter. “A Tot,” His fingers were on his wrist again, feeling his double pulse, still in disbelief.

A loud crash from just outside the room had them both turning to look at the door, a small whimper had Martha looking away from the door and at Harry who was slowly shifting in the Doctor’s grasp, the noise having disturbed him, and then she looked at the Doctor’s face, taking a step back at the dark look on his face as he glared at the door. “Martha,” he glanced at her, and she gulped in nervousness, she knew the look wasn’t aimed at her, but she couldn’t help but feel fear claw at her chest. The Doctor didn’t pay any attention to her nerves, and stood, passing the sleeping toddler over to her. “Look after Harry, I have to deal with something.”

She carefully rearranged Harry so that she wasn’t holding him awkwardly, watching as the alien stormed out of the room, quietly closing and locking the door behind him, and she looked down at the boy. “You know, Harry, I’m very glad he’s not angry at me,” He remained silent, and she sighed, moving to sit on the counter as the Doctor had moments prior. “I have never seen him get angry like this; I didn’t even know he could get like this, it's... It's terrifying, actually.”

A loud bang sounded and the child in her arms was startled awake, Harry looked around in confusion, then looked up at her. His eyes were still green, but they were pale, an icy green compared to the vibrant emerald green they’d been previous.

“Martha?” His voice was shaky and unsure.

She smiled gently at him. “That’s right, Harry, it’s Martha.”

He frowned and grasped at her t-shirt as he looked away, swaying slightly as he looked around, trying to recognise where he was, he stopped after a moment and whimpered, grabbing at his chest. Another loud bang sounded, and he hiccupped in response, releasing another cloud of the bright gold energy.

She watched as Harry looked at it in complete bafflement, and she frowned. “Do you know what that is?” He shook his head watching as it faded, and Martha hummed. “Do you,” She looked out the window and sighed. “Do you know what you are?”

Harry froze on her lap and looked up at her in fear, rapidly shaking his head, seemingly shrinking into himself.

“Shit,” She muttered. “No, no Harry, it’s okay,” She reached her hand out, gently grabbing his hand, and frowning as she felt his slight shaking. “Harry, it’s alright, you’re safe, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He peered up at her, tears welled up in his eyes and she reached out to gently wipe them out of his eyes, tears pooling in her own as the emotional turmoil of the day’s events began catching up to her. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted as another burst of energy escaped from his mouth, he stared at it again, then sneezed, then cried out slightly in pain, while grasping his head, and a moment later, yelling began from the warehouse, easily heard through the door with how loud the shouting was getting, several voices mixing in with each other, and then the Doctor burst into the room, eyes locking onto the Tot who was grabbing his head in agony.

He rushed over and tilted his head back and let out a tut. “Involuntary telepathic shrouding,” He muttered, and Martha gave him an odd look, he sighed and glanced at her. “All of the humans got released from the hypnotism of the Tychilla at the same time,” He glanced at the door. “They’re not very happy with her, and they’re making that very well known.”

A high-pitched scream echoed through the building to prove his point, and Martha scrunched her nose up. “I mean, she deserves it.”

The dark look returned to his face as he gently ruffled Harry’s hair, pressing his fingers gently into the points on a Gallifreyan’s head that helped with their telepathic abilities, soothing the Tot’s headache. “She deserves more than that,” He muttered, then glanced down at Harry who was humming at the contact. “So, what happened to cause the shrouding?”

“He sneezed,” Martha informed him, and the Doctor paused, then let out an amused snort, and before he could continue speaking, Martha gestured for him to lean in so she could whisper in his ear, he shrugged and complied. “He doesn’t know what he is,” She informed him, and she saw him freeze.

He glanced down at the Tot who was rather obviously dealing with Regeneration Sickness but was very stubbornly awake and aware of what was going on around him, and he sighed, crouching on the floor and resting his arms on the counter, and he sent the boy a tired smile as he looked at him.

“Hi, Harry,” He greeted him, feeling anxiety flutter in his hearts as the Tot stared at him, and he wanted to scream at the unfairness of the fact that he’d been alone in a cupboard clearly alone without an adult present, and that he’d Regenerated, and yet he couldn’t be more than fifteen human years old.

“Do you remember I said that you could ask me questions once this was over?” He whispered, watching as the boy shuffled himself around on Martha’s lap to face him better and nodded. “Well, since you seem rather tired,” And he did look tired, his eyes drooping somewhat despite how alert he seemed. “How about I just tell you about Time Lords instead?”

The boy nodded from where he leant against Martha’s chest, glancing at the door as the Tychilla ran past the door, then back at the Doctor as he huffed. “Don’t worry, she can’t get out, the doors and windows have been deadlocked," He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket and wiggled it about a bit. “And I have the only key.”

He sighed as he placed it back in his pocket and looked at the tired Tot, steeling himself to talk. “Time Lords are a specific group of people from my planet, Gallifrey, who are gifted the ability to look into time itself by the government,” He frowned, then shrugged. “There’s a bit more to it, but it’s quite boring, but the specific name of my species is Gallifreyan,” He grinned conspiratorially as he glanced at Martha. “Now don’t go thinking that we look like humans, because humans look like us, Gallifreyans came first evolutionary wise.”

Harry blinked and glanced up at Martha as she let out a mock offended gasp. “Are you saying you’re better than us?” She sniffed and looked down at Harry. “Can you believe what you’re hearing, Harry?”

He giggled at the exchange and the Doctor continued. “Now, the main thing that separates Time Lords from a regular Gallifreyan is that glance into time, which occurs when we reach the age of eight,” He paused, thinking. “Which would be about forty in human years,” He hummed, frowning. “Yeah, that’d be forty.”

He pretended to not notice the look of confusion that crossed the Tot’s face at his words, pretended that it didn’t cause his hearts to ache that this was how he was finding out what he was. “It is also during this time that a Time Lord will gain their Regenerations, although there are the occasional factors that could allow a Gallifreyan to Regenerate without having looked into the Untempered Schism.”

Harry looked up at Martha, who was watching the Doctor, also listening to him in fascination, then looked back at the Doctor who was now looking out of the window, watching the clouds move across the sky.

“The energy settles in the middle of our chest,” He pointed at a spot between his hearts. “After it settles, the energy disperses through a Time Lord’s body, ready to be used whenever we need to Regenerate,” He sighed. “When needed, the energy is rapidly pulled into the bloodstream through a Time Lord’s two hearts,” He heard Martha let out a small grunt of pain and glanced over to see Harry rushing away from them both, and he sighed. “And then, the energy is released, rearranging each cell and DNA structure in a Time Lord’s body, saving them from death.”

Harry was pressed up against the corner of the wall, and the Doctor knew better than to go over to comfort him when he was very clearly on the edge of a panic attack, the Tot was shaking his head, and he sighed. “It’s okay, Harry.”

“No,” He heard him whisper, and the Doctor frowned.

“You’re safe.”

“No, I’m a freak, I’m sorry.”

Martha gasped, and he glanced up at her, her eyes were wide in horror and filled with tears, her hand slapped over her mouth. “Who told you that?”

“Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon,” He muttered attempting to shrink further into himself. “And Dudley, and Dudley’s friends.”

Martha reached over to try and pull him into a hug, only to pull back when he flinched at her approach.

The Doctor growled, startling both Harry and Martha. “No, you’re not a freak,” His firm words had Harry peering between his arms, eyes wide. “Let’s ignore our mutual revelation for a moment, and let’s go back to when we met you yesterday,” He huffed. “I saw a curious little boy, one who was very lonely,” He glanced at Martha, then back at him. “You are most certainly not a freak.”

Harry simply looked down at the counter, and the Doctor sighed. “I thought I was alone,” He admitted, and he glanced back up at him. “There was a war, there were no winners, and I had to so something unspeakable, leaving me as the only apparent survivor,” He refused to lie to the Tot, he deserved to know what happened to his people, to what could have been his home. “If anything, to me, you’re a miracle.”

“Oh,” He heard him whisper, and looked down again, and the Doctor sighed, glad that the Tot was no longer on the verge of a panic attack.

“Hey, how old are you?” Martha cut in, curiosity evident in her voice. “It’s just the Doctor said that an eight-year-old is forty for his lot, so.”

The boy shuffled slightly, and Martha had to strain to hear his response. “I turned fourteen two days ago.”

“Oh Rassilon,” The Doctor gasped out, and Martha glanced at him. “You’re two.”

Harry glanced at him again, but before any of them could say anything more, a loud bang of metal clanging on metal sounded through the warehouse, and the Doctor sighed, standing up.

“I better go and finish dealing with that,” He muttered darkly, as the Tychilla ran past once more, this time with a large metal pole in her hands. He glanced at Martha, then at Harry and smiled softly at him. “You’re okay, Harry, you’re safe.”

Another bang sounded and he sighed, walking to the door, and glancing at Martha. “You’ll be alright here?”

She nodded, glancing at Harry, who was frowning at the countertop once again. “Go deal with the humans and the Tychilla, the sooner you’re done the sooner we can get outside and get some fresh air.”

The Doctor nodded and after glancing at the Tot, who’s world had been turned upside down while also dealing with Regeneration Sickness, he winced as he realised the boy’s mind would probably be spinning at that moment, he turned and left the room.

He had a Tot murderer to deal with.