A Harry Potter Yuletide Story

Title: A Harry Potter Yuletide Story
Fandom: Harry Potter, Doctor Who
Category: Future Fic, Time-Travel, Science Fiction
Ratings: PG-13
Pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger
Characters: 11th Doctor, Harry Potter
Spoilers: None
Summary: Harry is alone on Christmas, he knows he isn’t going to live much longer and on the longest night of the year he gets a strange visitor that could potentially change his whole life.
Words: 2119
Warnings: Mentions Character Deaths, Mention PTSD
Tags: Sad Harry, PTSD, Doctor Shenanigans, Magic is Dying, Elderly Harry
Beta: None. No non-consensual Beta


December 24th, 2156

Harry leaned on his cane as he looked out the window of the room he once shared with those he loved most in this world. He knew he wasn’t long for this world and in his mind it wasn’t coming fast enough. However, he knew with his death, that would be the end of magic itself. 

There was no way for him to stop what was happening, even his own grandchildren had less magic in them than his children had. When his first great-grandchild was born and he held her in his arms he knew, the magic of his line was gone. The next great-grandchild was the same. Harry looked to the mantle where two urns sat side by side, the pain he felt welled up and Harry had the urge to cast an unforgivable at them, his anger at their passing, leaving him alone and broken in this world surged up, then quickly flamed out.

He knew Yuletide was the next morning, and even though his whole family was coming, Harry didn’t want to participate. He had nothing left. Nothing for his family that was left, and nothing for the family that had left him. Harry grieved just as deeply as he had the day Draco and Hermione had died. It was on the same day, the day after Halloween. By all rights, Harry should have followed. The three of them had a deeply magical marriage, but being the Master of Death somehow had prevented his own passing.

Harry looked out at the falling snow and knew that his death would be the first of the new year. It would mark a dark time for Wizarding Society as it would officially mark the time when Magic itself died. Slowly Harry walked to the kitchen to make himself some hot chocolate, all of the House Elves had either died, or left, the Goblin Horde had begun to take them into their world when Magic started to show signs of it’s death. That was fine with Harry, he had liked to do a lot of things for himself and hated having to negotiate even making a pot of tea with whichever Elf was manning the kitchens at the time. He found making tea deeply relaxing, and it vexed him to no end when that small pleasure was taken from him most of the time.

Now, a part of him wished at least one of them was still there so he’d have someone to talk to. He was alone and the festive decorations in the house did nothing to quell the depression and bone deep sadness he was feeling. 

Sipping the simple muggle version of the sweet chocolate drink, Harry sat by the fire and watched the snow falling. He didn’t even have his familiars. It put him in mind of Hedwig. The pain of her loss was something Harry never got over, nor the death of Dobby, who he regretted treating poorly at first. This turned his thoughts to others he had lost in that damned war. 

Harry slumped down even further in his chair and knew this Yule was his last and as much as he should try to make it fun and exciting for the children, he didn’t have it in him.

Sipping the hot, sweet drink that did nothing to warm the coldest parts of himself, it only brought back memories. Like sharing a tent with Hermione, or the first time he had made this type of hot chocolate for Draco. Complete with mini marshmallows and chocolate shavings. The memories brought on the sadness that had been Harry’s daily companion.

The resurrection stone had already turned to dust, the invisibility cloak fell in a heap of fibers, the only thing that still survived along with him was the elder wand. It made Harry wonder, not for the first time, if his triad was tied into the Deathly Hallows. As he contemplated this train of thought there was movement outside his window. It wasn’t the normal kinds of movement one would expect on a cold, wintery evening. Standing with no small amount of difficulty, Harry moved to the window and looked out on the expanse and saw some kind of phone box sitting on his property. Harry had to push his glasses up, his eyesight was a failing of old age, not because he hadn’t had his eyes fixed. Looking outside once more, Harry frowned as someone began to walk towards his door. He was so flummoxed at the idea that someone got past the wards he almost missed the doorbell ringing.

Harry shuffled towards the door and considered his options. He might be old, but he was far from weak. He had a curse on the tip of his tongue when he threw open the door and stared at the most ridiculous looking man he had ever seen in his life, and that was saying something considering the outlandish outfits Dumbledore wore. Of course the mere thought of Albus Perceival Wulfric Brian fucking Dumbledore had Harry growling with the anger that still lived with him over his old supposed mentor’s treatment of him.

“Who the hell are you and how did you get past my wards?” The words were fueled with all of  the anger Harry was feeling this snowy night. Harry frowned as he held the Elder wand towards the stranger in as threatening a manner as he could, ignoring how his hands shook, nor how his grip wasn’t as tight as it once was.

“Why are you pointing that ridiculous stick at me?” The man countered as he rearranged his bow tie and the fez sitting atop his head.

“Because you are on my private, unplottable land and I want to know how you got here.”

“Ohhh, well that’s easy. My TARDIS brought me here.” The ridiculous man had the most affable look on his face as he stood in the doorway. The cold wind was blowing in and Harry had to silently cast a warming charm before he looked back at the man.

“I’m sorry, you’re what now?”

“My TARDIS, it stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. T A R D I S, TARDIS for short.”

Harry stood there gaping at the man and wondered if he had finally lost his mind and this was all an illusion.

“Are you saying you travel in time?”

“Yes! That is exactly what I’m saying. But not just time, my boy. Space and even other dimensions…”

“But, time travel…it’s not something people, especially Wizards, should play around with.” Harry glared at the man. If time travel were so easy, he would have done it decades ago. He would have changed so much about his life.

“Oh, I see now. I broke through the veil. I haven’t done that in ages. Huh. I wonder why the old girl brought me here. She’s got a mind of her own, you see.” The man smiled as he looked towards the box that was standing in the middle of the front gardens. Harry just shook his head and headed inside. Frankly, he was too old to care if someone was crazy or not. Having company on Christmas Eve eased some of the loneliness he was feeling. If someone was here to assassinate him, he was strangely okay with that. Many had tried in the past and failed miserably, but that was because he had his soulmates at his side. 

The bitterness and anger welled up as he shuffled back to his chair and unceremoniously flopped down on it. “You might as well come in. And shut the door, it’s freezing.” Harry waved his hand in apathy as he stared at the stranger as they walked towards him.

“If you are here to kill me, I won’t stop you.” Harry’s cynical smile spread into a grimace as he kept his eye on the strange man. “In fact, I just might let you.”

“Why would I want to kill you? I’m not like that.” Harry laughed because whatever, whoever this man was there was the same air of danger around him that people had always said was around Harry. Like seemed to recognize like and Harry knew the man standing before him was dangerous, and that death happened around him. He might stay his own hand in those deaths, but Harry could see the responsibility the stranger carried deep down inside of him. 

“Aren’t you? I see death all around you, I see the heavy burden you carry knowing how many deaths you have directly and indirectly been involved in. You may not have raised your hand in malice yourself, but it’s there, lurking under the surface. Death follows you. You can’t hide that from me.”

The stranger took a seat, took off the fez and laid it down on the small table that sat between the two large reading chairs, one of which Harry now occupied. With a wave of his hand a second cup of hot chocolate appeared making the Stranger raise a single brow.

“You don’t appear to be surprised at a little bit of magic.”

The Stranger smiled as he leaned forward a little, looking Harry in the eye.

“Maybe I helped bring Magic into this world.”

“Right, and I am not the Master of Death. Tell me no lies, Stranger. What should I call you anyway?”

“I’m The Doctor.”

“The Doctor of what.”

“Hm, that’s the ultimate question, now, isn’t it.” The Doctor leaned forward and stared hard and long into Harry’s eyes. Harry let him. He let The Doctor see everything, even as he sat there sipping his chocolate calm as you please.

“You’re burden’s are no less than mine. Your grief, the loneliness of this place, it’s all written on your very soul. Tell me who you are so I may try to understand what I am doing here.”

Harry pulled out his wand, setting it on the table beside him, his hands wrinkled and crooked with time and use. The ointments Neville’s Granddaughter brings him no longer have any effect on his old, worn out muscles. The restorative tea Teddy still foists upon him no longer penetrates deep down, though he enjoys the flavor, so he keeps drinking it. The simple pleasures he once knew now no longer held any pleasure for him. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out of the thought spiral he was in and glared at the man across from him.

Looking at The Doctor, there is something familiar about him, but Harry isn’t quite sure what it is.

“Maybe it’s better I show you. Yes, I think The Lady herself is pushing me to show you my life. To what end, I don’t know, and frankly I care little about what anyone thinks anymore. Magic is dying, and when I die at the first of the year, Magic will follow me.”

The Doctor leaned back in his chair, settling a hand on his face, tapping his own cheek, the Doctor narrowed his eyes and appeared to be thinking. “So, it has come to that has it. Maybe the old girl sensed what was wrong and brought me here to fix whatever it was that broke. I still feel the Time Lord energy, but it’s been….corrupted. I must think,” the Doctor muttered to himself as he took the cup of tea and drank it down. “Alrighty then, let’s get to it.” The Doctor jumped up and Harry was, for the first time in the last few weeks, rather amused.

“Come, we’ll retire to the library for this portion of this evenings turn of events.” Harry beckoned the Doctor to follow as he slowly shuffled towards his destination. Walking to the pensieve, Harry muttered under his breath, checking the ritual basin to make sure it was still in good condition. The liquid sat there cool and clear. The powerful charms kept it clean and always ready for use. “Somehow I don’t think anything you’ll see will surprise or horrify you. Something tells me that you’ve seen and done far, far worse.” Harry didn’t even try to keep the menace out of his voice. 

“That I have no doubt.” The Doctor matched Harry’s own inflections, the two men appeared to be verbally matched. There was a subtle battle of wills going on, but Harry was unsure of what to do about it. For now, he would show this stranger his life and then see what happened from there. “Just follow my lead, Doctor.”

The Doctor just looked more amused and excited than Harry knew what to do with. Harry explained in more detail what was going to happen and the Doctor followed his lead. Harry