Romana Lovegood

Luna could not sleep. The motion of the waves against the side of the fishing boat bound for home should have lulled her to sleep, but only served to remind her of the previous year's trip. She approached the disheveled girl currently hunched over the railing, heaving her guts out while Luna's father slept soundly on the deck below her, oblivious to the discomfort of his fiancée. Luna's soon-to-be stepmother was in no state to be traveling in this fashion. Jennifer Swann was unaccustomed to the roughness of the North Sea, and in quite obvious misery.

Luna fished around in her pockets for the Australian ginger candy that her mother used to give her when she was feeling queasy. She took pity on the poor girl, miles away from her home, shunned by her family for getting pregnant by the editor of the Quibbler. Jen would have finished her last year at Hogwarts, if not for the death of the Headmaster. With nowhere else to go, the 18- yr.-old Hufflepuff came to them. Luna rubbed her shoulders as the last wave of nausea passed. Jennifer sucked on the candy and allowed herself to be guided back to the bed she shared with Luna's father. As she drifted off to sleep, she mumbled, "Thank you, Luna" Luna patted her uncertainly on the shoulder, and left the room.

For the first time, Luna allowed herself to be angry at her father. When the trip had been announced, she had been quite pleased. Her father had been fond of traveling up until her mother's death. Luna had hoped that his grieving had ended and that they would have plenty of time for father-daughter bonding. She did not count on having to share the trip with her father's pregnant secretary. She was not angry that he had tricked her, although she was hurt. What bothered her was that he had sullied a young woman's reputation and expected her to become a mother to his teenaged daughter. Instead, Luna soon found that the roles were reversed.

Luna could not remember ever being this angry with her father. She could not sleep, so she did the next best thing. She wrote a letter to the one person that she knew would be having just as much trouble sleeping as she was.

Harry Potter was sitting by the open window while he unpacked his belongings. It was very odd to think of Grimmauld Place as his home. He looked to the nearest oak tree, which was when he noticed the raven perched upon its branch, looking at him quizzically. "Hey, girl; what have you got there?" he called out, not sure why he assumed the bird to be female.

Hedwig hooted in greeting as the silky black bird swooped down onto Harry's outstretched hand. Harry untied the note attached to her leg. "I wonder who would be sending me an owl... I mean, a letter, at this time of night," he hastily added at Hedwig's haughty expression. She nibbled his finger affectionately after the raven returned to its post. Harry's eyebrow shot up when he read the Norwegian address.

Dear Harry,

I regret to say that our trip has not gone well. By the time this letter reaches you, I have just left a small town outside of Gdansk, Poland, where I had hoped to find out more about my mother. My dad told me that she had grown up in Gdansk, near the seashore, that she was a Durmstrang alumnus. However, this appears to be misleading, since there is no record of a Romana Dvoratrelundar ever having lived there. I fear, Harry, that there is no point in continuing our expedition. Maybe the Crumple-horned Snorkack does not exist. After all, according to the magical communities of Poland, my mother never existed, either.

But that would be silly; of course she exists, otherwise I would not be here, now would I? If I am here, and she never was, then this would create a paradox of epic proportions, Harry! A paradox of such magnitude would rip a hole in the fabric of time itself. Do you think that someone could travel far enough back in time and alter events to such an extent that they end up negating their entire existence? The sky is blue and the sea is grey today, so I assume that such an anomaly has not occurred, otherwise we would not be having this conversation. So in all likelihood, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack does exist. Perhaps one day I will be able to prove it, but for now it looks as if we are returning home early.

I hope this letter finds you well. It has, hasn't it? I do hope you are not maimed or incapacitated in any way. I'd hate to think that you were lying somewhere, bleeding from multiple wounds while I ramble on about the weather and such. If that is the case, then the first thing you must do is stop reading this letter at once! Point your wand at your bloody limb. The incantation is "Scabbeo", very simple. Now, limp over to the nearest Healer and...

Oh, dear; if you have put this letter down then you are in grave danger of exsanguination. Oh, do hurry and pick up this letter again! Harry? Harry, are you there? Oh, dear, you might be dead by now.

Well, if that is not the case, cheers. For now I will assume that you remain uninjured. It's best to think positive, after all.

Love, Luna

Harry folded the letter and placed it inside his trunk carefully. In the week following the funeral of Albus Dumbledore, Harry had been concerned for Luna's safety. After having forgotten to pick her up at the train station, her father had arrived at the Burrow to collect her, announcing that they would be overseas for most of the holidays. Luna barely had time to explain to Harry that it had something to do with her mother, before she was whisked away by the sandy-haired man and a familiar-looking Hufflepuff. When her letter had arrived a few days later, he was glad to hear that his friend was as far away from London as possible.

Harry pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and took a moment to collect his thoughts. The Weasleys had been kind enough to offer to bring him back to the Burrow when it became apparent that the Dursleys had not arrived to collect their wizard nephew. Harry had not been surprised. Ron's family welcomed him openly, sensing that he needed time to process the death of the greatest wizard he had ever known, before returning to the loveless environment that he had grown up in. Harry knew that he had to return to Privet Drive one last time. For one thing, it was awkward to be around Ginny after having broken things off with her. For another, it would ensure that the blood protection spell that his mother's death had initiated would continue to protect his aunt and cousin after he left.

At the Burrow, Ginny remained friendly and boisterous, trying to keep everyone's spirits up, but Harry worried about her. Not that he expected her to be devastated by their break-up, but this forced cheerfulness could not be healthy for her. For some reason, Ginny had not told her parents about their brief romance, which meant that under the Weasleys' roof, Harry had to pretend that everything was normal between them.

Later that week, Harry had made his decision. Ginny's façade had begun to crack, and she wavered between fits of stubborn insistence on helping him and hopeless resignation to the fact that he did not seem to want her involved in the search for the horcruces. Sometimes, late at night, he was sure that he could hear her crying, and it was tearing him up inside. She deserved a boyfriend who didn't search for the exit every time she entered the room in order to avoid a conflict. The wedding preparations were in full swing. He figured that no one would miss him in the rush to make sure that Fleur and Bill had everything they needed. So, he grabbed a bag and Floo-ed to Diagon Alley. Perhaps he could just go to Grimmauld Place for a few days.

Outside the Leaky Cauldron, on the Muggle side, he found a payphone and called Hermione before everyone started thinking that he had been kidnapped by Death Eaters. Harry tried to cut her off before she could begin a long rant on responsibility and letting the Order know where he is at all times. "Hermione, listen up. I'm on a pay phone in London right now; it's a long story, but I'll fill you in later. I was calling because I wanted to contact Viktor."

Hermione paused, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Viktor's staying in London with his teammates; why do you need to talk to him now? And what are you doing in London in the first place?"

Harry sighed, hesitant to pull her into his plan. "Look, I wasn't going to say anything before, but... oh, well. I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you, although it will spoil the surprise," he said, an idea growing in his head that was almost Slytherin in nature. "I wanted to go to Diagon Alley before the shops closed, to pick up birthday presents for Ginny, Neville, and... well, you." He almost blushed, almost believing his ruse.

"Me?" Hermione gasped. "But my birthday's not until September, Harry!"

Harry smiled. "Well, I know that, but I can hardly pick up your present when we grab our school supplies, now can I? So, I thought I'd meet with Viktor, since he is legally an adult and could be trusted to help me pick out something truly special. I mean, I could buy you a book anytime, but this birthday is a special one. Maybe he might have a few ideas..." he trailed off, hoping that she would be convinced. Hanging out with Krum was not a bad idea, anyway, he mused.

Hermione seemed much happier. She spoke excitedly, "He's got a flat above the Quibbler offices; sometimes he goes out after practice with the team, so you might be able to catch him. Just... don't tell Ron, okay? I mean, if he knew that Viktor was in town he might get all tetchy again." Harry could hear her voice soften. She continued, "I guess I could just tell the Weasleys that you're visiting me. But, Harry... Do be careful. Call me as soon as you finish."

He promised to call, and hung up. Heading for the Quibbler, he paused when he heard the sound of a large group of men right behind him. Harry spun on them quickly, wand at the ready. When one of the men chuckled, Harry relaxed. Garbed in Quidditch robes, a very robust Viktor Krum hugged Harry tightly. "How good it is to see you!"

"How are you doing?" he inquired politely, a little bit unnerved by Viktor's exuberant display of affection.

One of his teammates rumpled Viktor's hair affectionately. "Harry, he's bloody fantastic! All the ladies are swooning over this one, let me tell you, but he keeps telling them that he must remain true to his first love..."

Harry blurted out, "Hermione?"

Oliver Wood laughed loudly, "Quidditch, my boy, of course!" He started teasing Viktor, "Hermione, he says! Is there somethin' you're not tellin' me, then, Vik?"

Viktor mumbled, "She is my friend. I haf no girlfriend."

"Um, Viktor? I needed to ask you a question. Could we go somewhere a little more private?" Harry asked, wondering why the others began to laugh. Viktor seemed a bit uncomfortable, and kept glancing at Oliver, which only seemed to encourage the other team members more.

Viktor spoke quietly, "If Oliver says it is okay then you may come upstairs." Something more was going on, judging by the crestfallen look on the Keeper's face. Just then, Harry saw it. The way Oliver looked at Viktor with such longing; he wondered how the Bulgarian did not see it.

Harry felt his former Captain's eyes upon him. Suddenly things began to make sense. He was jealous. Harry recognized the look that Ron often wore when Hermione would mention Viktor. Harry grabbed them both quickly, addressing the rest of their friends, "Oliver and Viktor and I have some catching up to do. They'll meet you at the pub later, okay?"

As the team disappeared around the corner, Oliver whispered, "Let's go upstairs, okay?" They reached the flat, and Harry was offered a butterbeer. Sitting on the bed, he asked, "Harry, what are you doing here alone? Isn't there a madman on the loose trying to kill you?"

Harry hung his head. "I know. I just needed to see Viktor. I have a problem, and Hermione thought I should talk to him, since he has more experience with this sort of thing..." he tried to explain.

Viktor leaned in closer, putting his hand on Harry's knee. "Your secret is safe vit me. I feel flattered, Harry, that you vould vant for me to help you, but in this I cannot. You are a special boy, but I cannot let you make big mistake."

Harry protested, "I'm almost an adult, and still everyone treats me like a child! If I want to go to Norway then that is my choice to make!" He tried to calm down, since he needed help and did not want to upset them.

Oliver took the opportunity to intervene. "Norway, Harry? Why would you want to go to Durmstrang? Viktor lives here with me, now. Didn't Hermione tell you?"

Harry rubbed his forehead. Viktor spoke up. "Harry, ve are together. I could not betray Oliver like that."

Suddenly Harry laughed. "I see. I'm sorry, Viktor. I should have explained. I'm trying to find my friend Luna, who is on holiday in Norway. I wanted to ask you how to get there by ship."

"Are you not of the gay?" Viktor asked in surprise.

"Not that I'm aware of," he joked. "I just thought that you could help me get there." Harry gave them both a weak smile.

"Does Hermione know about this?" Oliver asked, suspicious. Harry shrugged, giving him all the information he needed. "Of course, you know what she'll have to say about this, so I don't think I need to remind you how dangerous traveling is right now."

Viktor seemed perplexed for a moment. He muttered, "You are looking for the daughter of Mr. Lovegood?" When Harry nodded, he added, "She vent downstairs to the newspaper."

Harry exclaimed, "She's here? Thank you, Viktor." He held out his hand, and was pulled into a robust hug.

"You are good boy, Harry, and wery handsome. She is lucky." He looked away for a moment, and then added, "You are okay vit the gay? You vill not tell Rita Skeeter?"

Harry began to laugh. "I would never tell anyone your secret, except for Ron if that's okay with you. He seems to think that Hermione still fancies you. If you two are happy together, that's okay with me." He smiled warmly at the men. "Besides, Skeeter's written so much rubbish about the three of us."

Oliver saw him out the door, and leaned forward to whisper, "Thanks, Harry. He's been worried about how the world will treat us when the reporters find out about our relationship." He smiled sheepishly at Harry. He checked to make sure that his lover was not listening. "The Bulgarian team found out about his preferences, and agreed that they did not feel comfortable having him on their team. The coach made a deal with him that he would not tell the papers if Vik just transferred to another team."

Harry gasped, "That's horrid! He was their star player, not to mention his involvement in the Quidditch World Cup and the Tri-Wizard Tournament!"

"Aye, Harry, but you see the Bulgarians are big on image. The team must be strong, and Vik... well, being gay equals being weak in their eyes. It's a bit old-fashioned, I'm sure, from our perspective, but the Bulgarian wizards want to breed big, strong men and fertile women to raise plenty of children. The magical community is dying out, Harry. The sad fact is that to some people, it's just as bad as being in love with a Muggleborn. Why do you think he never dated Hermione?"

"I thought that he was too old for her."

"That too, but mainly he wanted to protect her. He liked spending time with her. He was far from home, alone for the most part, and the youngest professional player. Kind of reminded me of you when I first met you," he teased lightly.

"So then what happened? I mean, after they dumped him."

"Well, you're looking at him. We had met at the World Cup, and became good friends. When he showed up on my doorstep, I had to take him in. He asked me if our team needed a Seeker, and the rest is history. He's gotten some of his own back, and thumbed his nose at his old coach to boot." Oliver nodded towards the street outside. "Our boys are a good sort; they'll give him hell about being a nancy boy but it's all in good fun. They protect their own, Harry. You'd be welcome to try out for reserve next year, if you're interested."

Harry's grin faded. Morosely, he replied, "That all depends on whether I make it through the year or not, mate. But, I'll keep it in mind. I'd love to be done with all of this Voldemort mess and have a normal life."

Oliver pulled him in close for a hug, and roughed up his hair. "And our team is normal, eh? You're too sweet for your own good. Now, go get your girl!" He pushed Harry away, and smacked him soundly on the buttocks. When Harry glared at him, he chuckled. "Did anyone tell you that you look quite fetching when you're angry, Potter?"

Harry fairly flew down the stairs to find Luna curled up in her father's armchair. "Hello, Harry." She stretched like a cat, and smoothed down her skirt, looking slightly the worse for wear. "Daddy sent me on ahead while he took Jennifer to the hospital. When they arrive in London, I will have a baby brother or sister, Harry."

Harry approached her slowly, asking, "How do you feel about this?"

Luna shrugged, "I like babies. My father has his little family now and I am almost grown. I suppose I will be expected to baby-sit."

They stared at each other for quite sometime. Finally, Luna asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"I dunno. I told Hermione that Viktor was helping me pick out a birthday present for her, so I might as well do a little shopping. Care to join me?"

Luna appeared to be thinking this over. "I would like that very much." She rose from her seat and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. They walked along the street, hoping to find a shop still open. Luna pulled him into one small shop after another, exclaiming excitedly over various odds and ends. She seemed to bounce from one section to another, sometimes tutting softly or chirping with delight when she found something interesting. Harry was content to follow along, just enjoying her happiness, when it happened.

Suddenly, he heard the most God-awful noise, a loud metallic grating, coming from Knockturn Alley. He looked around for the source of the problem, when he felt an ice cold hand gripping his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. Harry gasped, "Dementors! Run, Luna!" while searching for his wand. Luna stood her ground, whipping her wand from behind her ear, pointing it at the nearest foul creature. Harry smiled briefly, thinking of how quickly she had drawn her weapon. He thought of how adorable she looked with a pout on her face, staring down a couple of Dementors with gusto. He tried to concentrate on a happy thought, but he kept thinking of Sirius falling behind the Veil.

Harry saw the burst of light hit Luna before he could reach her in time. His pathetic attempts at casting the Patronus convinced him that he would be too late to save her from them. He could feel himself getting lost in the memory of Sirius battling Bellatrix, and finding out about the prophecy. As Harry began to lose consciousness, he was vaguely aware that the noise had grown much louder, allowing him to focus on it instead of his nightmare. Curious, he watched as two people seemed to appear from nowhere, one of which carried a... screwdriver? The other one, the female, wore a Union Jack shirt and leather miniskirt and was busy pulling Luna to the safety of a blue police box. Harry's thoughts turned instead to the relief he felt knowing that Luna was out of harm's way. He redoubled his efforts at performing the charm, willing himself to see the faces of his loved ones. Luna's face seemed to shine above the others with an ethereal glow as he recalled her standing under the mistletoe, warning him about the Nargles. The memory caused him to laugh aloud, and he felt powerful.

Prongs jumped out from his wand with a crack of energy, chasing the Dementors away. Harry yelled out with glee, "You better run! Tell Voldemort that I'm not done fighting yet!" Suddenly, he remembered the spell that hit Luna, and turned to look for the culprit. He could hear footsteps behind him, and so he turned sharply, pointing the wand at the man's throat.

"That was fantastic!" exclaimed the man in the leather duster with an enormous smile upon his face. "They'll not be messing with you any time soon, I'll wager." The man stood nearly a head taller than Harry, chuckling at the angry look on Harry's face. He put his hands out, showing that he held only the screwdriver, which Harry promptly confiscated. "You know, it's rude to keep that stick pointed at me when I just saved your girlfriend's life."

"You'll find that I don't care very much for being polite when my friends are in danger," Harry growled, trying to decide whether to trust the stranger or not. Experience had taught him that appearances could be and often were deceiving. "Roll up your sleeves."

The man did as he asked, with a puzzled frown on his face. In a conversational tone, he asked, "So, what the bloody hell were those things anyway?" He had a Northern accent, with an undercurrent of strength lacing his jovial manner. Harry suspected when he looked into the man's eyes that he had seen much in his lifetime. They reminded him of the eyes of his parent's friend, Remus, as if they had witnessed the end of the world. He could relate. Someday, if he survived the final battle with Voldemort, he imagined that his eyes might hold that same haunted look. With a sigh of relief, he realized that there was no Dark Mark upon the man.

"Who are you, exactly? And where did the shop girl take my... Luna?" he asked, partly relieved but still unwilling to let down his guard completely.

The man apologized, "Oh! Sorry; I've forgot myself... I'm the Doctor. Hello!" He waved quickly, causing Harry to stifle a grin. He nodded over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Harry's, indicating his companion, "That's Rose Tyler, and we'll be off as soon as you lower your weapon and hand me mine."

Harry demanded, "I want to know that Luna is alright first. Then we will discuss whether I turn you over to the authorities or not."

The Doctor shrugged; it didn't seem to matter much to him. He led Harry over to the police box, which seemed to offend Harry slightly although he wasn't quite sure why. Harry lowered his wand as the door swung open and the stranger invited him inside. He dressed as a Muggle, but he had seen the Dementors, had felt them. He announced, "There she is; as you can see, she is perfectly fine. I'm not a dirty old man intent upon kidnapping, you know."

Harry felt his heart lighten when Luna opened her eyes, asking, "Harry?"

He knelt by her side, the Doctor forgotten, as he checked her over. Finding no discernible injury or curse upon her, he turned to Rose. "Thank you for helping her. What kind of spell was that?"

Rose stared at him, a small smile upon her face. "Spell? What do you take me for, some sort of witch? Spells..." she muttered darkly, causing Harry to wonder if he had offended her in some way. "Everyone knows that magic doesn't exist."

"Well, aren't you a wizard, though?" he asked the Doctor, confused. "I mean, you can see the Dementors, can't you?"

The Doctor answered, "I can. I don't know if she can, though. But she probably felt them. A wizard, no; well, maybe you would see it that way." He seemed to take in Harry's appearance, noting, "You're not from around here, are you?"

Rose stopped tinkering with whatever she had been working on to ask, "This is London, innit? I mean, it's not any part of London I'm familiar with, mind you, but still..." She trailed off as she noticed Harry looking around the TARDIS. "It's not what you think..."

Harry walked past her, taking in the sheer size of the room in which he now found himself. He whistled appreciatively. "Bet you could fit the Great Hall in here! Now I know you are a wizard, Doctor. I haven't figured out how wizards can enlarge a room like this yet, but I've seen a similar charm used by Mr. Weasley on our tents, Luna. At the Quidditch World Cup..." he trailed off, noticing the glances being traded between Rose and the Doctor. Harry folded his arms across his chest, standing with his legs slightly apart. "What?"

The Doctor smiled, and Harry felt a shudder pass through his body. "Harry, is it? You've seen something like this before? Tell me, boy, do you have any idea what this contraption does? Take your time and feel around with your senses. What does this place feel like?" His eyes were on Harry, something in his eyes confirming what the Doctor already expected.

Harry felt safe here, for some bizarre reason, knowing that he could trust the odd travelers. When their eyes locked, he whispered, "Legilimens." Suddenly, he was able to see into his mind. The 1940's during the air raids... present day... the future... He gasped aloud, "This is a great big bloody Time Turner!"

Suddenly, Luna spoke up. "This is a TARDIS, is it not?"

A new voice joined the fray, coming from behind Harry. "Right you are cutie!" The dark-haired man with the winning smile, who reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart, extended his hand and kissed Luna's wrist. "Captain Jack Harkness and the pleasure is all mine," the man smiled in a confident manner, as if he was used to women falling at his feet. Harry could not help but notice that he was quite fit and looked delicious in his... Hang on a moment!

Warily, Harry asked, "Just what are the three of you doing here in an enormous Time Turner? Does the Ministry know about this?" Harry tried to cover up his interest in the handsome man, assuming that he had cast some sort of lust spell. When the man placed a hand upon his shoulder in a friendly manner, Harry found himself wondering if he was like Viktor and Oliver. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Are you of the gay, too?"

Rose began to laugh hysterically, barely able to look at Jack. Jack took it all in stride. "My, but don't you just get to the bare bones of the matter! I like that, kiddo," he exclaimed, pulling Harry into a one-armed hug. "Direct is good. When I'm from, we've done away with gender stereotypes and primeval attitudes towards homosexuality. To answer your questions, though, you'd probably call me bisexual."

"Don't you mean where you're from?" Harry puzzled.

The Doctor responded, "No, he's right. You were right about the time travel, Harry. I've been traveling for a very long time, and it seems that I manage to pick up a few strays along the way. Rose is from your time and Jack is from the future." He gave Jack a pointed look, continuing, "How old are you exactly, Harry?"

"Almost seventeen, Doctor," he replied, blushing. "Luna's sixteen." Immediately, he noticed Jack let go, sliding back a discreet distance.

"Rampant hormones!" the Doctor nodded, glancing at his companions. "That explains it, then. I bet you'd shag anyone if they offered. No offense meant, it's just the way it is. Just be careful. Some things cannot be undone..." His eyes held a far away look as he stared at Luna, not quite seeing her.

Rose chipped in, "Like trying to save me dad. Bollixed that one up, I did." She paused when she saw how keenly interested Harry was in what she was saying. She turned towards him, saying, and "He died when I was a baby, so I wanted to see him, just one last time, y'know? I tried to save him...The trouble with mucking about with time is that sometimes you try to change one detail, and the whole course of history winds up being affected."

Luna supplied helpfully, "Like the Daleks."

"Right you are, Luna; like the Daleks..." the Doctor smiled, and then suddenly paled. Looking Rose and Jack, he asked in a shaky voice, "Luna, dear, how do you know about the Daleks?"

Harry watched in horror as Luna cheerfully responded, "Mum told me all about them. Nasty Muggle machines they were, too, but they cannot climb stairs worth a lick. Can you imagine being defeated by your inability to climb stairs, Harry?"

The rest of the control room of the TARDIS traded uneasy glances. Rose buried her head against Jack's shoulder. He stroked her back protectively, but anyone could tell that he was bothered by Luna's admission. Harry could not stand it anymore. He asked, "Are they real? These Daleks? How would your Mum know about these things?"

The room grew quiet as the Doctor stepped forward. "Because, Harry, her mum was there. Oh, yes; they are most certainly real," he half-whispered, reliving a past terror.

He seemed trapped within his own mind, something Harry was all too familiar with. It wasn't until Luna reached out to him that he regained his equilibrium. "Come, child," he beckoned Luna. She found herself enveloped in his arms.

"Do you know my mother? I've been trying to find out more about her, but there doesn't seem to be any record of her before my birth." Luna awaited his response with eager eyes. "All I have to go on is that she hails from a place called Gallifrey."

Harry watched as the Doctor sank to his knees, bringing Luna with him. He said only one word: "Romana."

An hour later, Harry was flabbergasted. His mind reeled with the information that Luna's mother had been a Time Lord and the Doctor's companion. It had been forbidden for them to pursue the romance that had blossomed between them, and their friendship ended when President Romana chose to stay behind on another planet to help rebuild a civilization. The Doctor explained that later Gallifrey, their home world, was destroyed before he had the chance to tell her how he felt. He admitted softly, "I could not let it end like this..."

Luna whispered softly, "You used the TARDIS to go back to the time when she loved you, and you professed your love. What went wrong?"

With a sigh of resignation, he voiced the conclusion that he had come to. "She loved Paris, you know. We had one glorious stolen weekend together. I never knew that she was pregnant..."

"She couldn't have been," Luna replied sadly. "I wasn't born until 1981. The Romana that you loved died when I was nine years old. You could not have known what would happen. You could not have prevented her death. What happened next?"

"Well, after I left the year 1980, I came here, knowing that my world had been destroyed and the rest of my people. I met Rose about a year ago, and then Jack, and now you."

Harry thought, If your Romana died when Luna was nine, then how could she have become President of Gallifrey? The Doctor was not lying, but there was something more than what he was telling them.

Rose placed a hand upon the Doctor's shoulder. "There was a war between the Daleks and the Time Lords, and we thought that the Doctor was the last survivor. Until we found the last of the Daleks, held captive here on Earth..." she shivered. "But it wasn't the last one at all, at all."

Jack squeezed her hand, the three adults lending energy and support to each other. Harry sensed there was a bond of love among them like the one he shared with Ron and Hermione. "We just came back from hell, kid. The Daleks were not entirely wiped out, and were waiting for the right time to strike. The Earth was nearly destroyed. If it wasn't for Rose... the Doctor and I would still be dead."

Rose had a sad look on her face. "I saw into the time vortex of the TARDIS, something that no mortal is ever meant to see. He saved me from myself, and took the vortex into himself. It should have killed you, but it didn't."

The Doctor said in a kind voice, "Don't worry about it. I'm like a cat with nine lives. I still have at least three regenerations left. Besides, now that I've met Luna, I'm in no hurry to use them up."

"Regenerations?" Luna queried. Briefly, it was explained that when a Time Lord dies, their body changes into a newer form, similar to being a Metamorphmagus, but more like a snake shedding its old skin and revealing its new skin. Harry and Luna both flashed upon the room in the Department of Mysteries that held the bell jar in which time is controlled and studied. "Could Mum do this as well?"

He nodded, "And, it is likely that when she died here on Earth, she had to assume her new face and identity, in order to return to Gallifrey."

"Are you saying that Romana abandoned Luna?" Harry said in a tight voice. With a glare from the Doctor, he quieted.

"Never, Harry," he said firmly, taking Luna's hand. "She couldn't stay here in her new form, that is, once she regenerated. The people whose lives she touched while on Earth would not understand."

Harry had the distinct feeling that their lives mirrored his own. He imagined the Doctor having to watch his planet being destroyed and his friends dying all around him, and being unable to do anything to stop it. He knew exactly how that felt, and knowing that someone as powerful as the Doctor, someone who controlled time, could not prevent the destruction of his world seemed to alleviate some of the burden he felt about the prophecy and the death of his godfather. Even Rose, the same age as Tonks, could not stop her father's death, not without tearing a hole in the fabric of time. He now fully understood the ramifications of using the Time Turner with Hermione. There would always be a price for cheating Time and Death. Maybe he had bought time to get to know Sirius, and given him a taste of freedom, but the end result was the same. Sirius died. He gave him a second chance at happiness, even if it only lasted two years. Maybe death could not be cheated, only prolonged.

With sudden clarity, Harry understood. No one was meant to live forever. Voldemort, no matter how many times he attempted to cheat death, would eventually succumb to its icy grip. The universe had a way of evening the score, of righting wrongs. The Daleks were pitted against the Time Lords. The Death Eaters were pitted against the Order of the Phoenix. Ultimately, Harry was pitted against Tom Marvolo Riddle. They were evenly matched, it would seem, but there must be a flaw that Harry could exploit. Voldemort already knew his weaknesses, and if Harry thought hard enough, he would have to say that Voldemort's weakness was Tom Riddle. No matter how he mutilated his body in his search for immortality, he could not escape the fact that he still was part human. Like the Dalek that Rose had touched, he still had the taint of humanity. For the first time, Harry knew how to defeat his nemesis. For the first time, Harry realized that he could win.