Title – Hello Everything

Summary – Instead of a little girl in a garden, the Doctor meets a little boy from a cupboard instead. Harry Potter/11th Doctor. Featuring a Metamorphmagus!Harry, Fed up with the Wizarding World!Harry, and possible eventual slash?

A/N I own nothing! Absolutely nothing and I'm making no profit for this. A note before we begin, this story is canon up to the Eleventh Hour, and its canon until the beginning of Deathly Hallows. However, Harry is not canon Harry. Everything else is AU.

…

The scrawny, messy haired boy was sneaking out of the cupboard for the third time that week. He was starving, shaking and trembling, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep sneaking out without someone noticing. Specifically, without his so called family noticing.

He glanced around furtively, creeping to the kitchen.

He had heard his aunt pray once, maybe a few times really. He wondered if God would send someone to help him. He thought there couldn't be any harm in trying.

"Uh, hello," he whispered uncertainly. "My name is Harry. I was wondering if you could send someone to take me away from my Aunt and Uncle. Aunt Petunia says I ought to be grateful to them, but I'm not. I don't care. Please, if you're not too busy could you send someone?"

Silence hung in the air for a moment and Harry sighed and hung his head. "I should have known it wouldn't work. Adults never – " he cut himself off suddenly, a strange sound shaking the night. Something crashed loudly and Harry went running towards the back door.

"Oh my god," he whimpered, half in fear, half in relief. "Uncle Vernon is going to kill me." He ran outside.

He stopped a few feet away from the box, looking shocked and amazed. A tall, gangly man clambered out of the thing, soaking wet.

"Could I have an apple? All I can think about. Apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving? That's new. Never had cravings before," the man chattered, before pulling himself up and peering into the box. "Whoa, look at that."

Harry stared at him. He wasn't entirely sure this stranger could help him, much less take care of himself. "Are you okay?"

"Just had a fall. All the way down there, right to the library. Hell of a climb back up," the man said cheerfully, grinning like a loon.

"You're soaking wet," Harry observed.

"I was in the swimming pool."

Harry raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Right." This was the least adult like adult he had ever met. Most people at least knew that a swimming pool would never fit in a little box like that. Even he knew that, and everyone thought he was stupid. "You said you were in the library."

"So was the swimming pool," the man admitted.

Harry stared at him. "Okay…Have you come about the cupboard then?"

"Cupboard? Is something wrong with your cupboard?" the man asked, before promptly falling over.

Harry frowned. This was not exactly what he pictured when he asked God to send help. "Nothing's wrong with the cupboard. I'd just prefer a proper bedroom. Dudley has two. Are you alright?"

"No, I'm fine. It's okay. This is all perfectly norm –"he stopped as a breath of golden, well, something, came out of his mouth.

Harry stared. "Who are you?"

"I don't know yet. I'm still cooking. Does it bother you?"

"Not really," Harry said blankly. "It's just, well it's a bit odd, don't you think?"

"No, no, no," the man said. "Not having a bedroom. Does it bother you?"

Harry's mouth tightened. "Of course."

"Well then, no time to lose. I'm the Doctor. Do everything I tell you, don't ask stupid questions, and don't wander off." He started to charge forwards, before running straight into a tree.

Harry gazed at him for a moment. The world must hate him.

"Early days," the man added. "Steering's a bit off."

"Er, right," Harry said. "This way then," and he led the strange man, this Doctor, into the house.

The Doctor took one grand, sweeping look around the house, the pounced on an apple, taking a huge bite.

Harry looked at him dubiously. Aunt Petunia was not going to be pleased. "I wasn't exactly expecting a doctor," he told the man, a little unhappily.

"That's disgusting. What is that?"

Harry was not feeling any better about this situation. "An apple."

"Apples are rubbish. I hate apples."

"I thought you said you loved them," Harry replied, feeling rather more mature than this man who had fallen from the sky.

"No, no, no," the Doctor said shaking his head rather violently. "I like yoghurt. Yoghurt's my favourite. Give me yoghurt. What were you expecting anyways?"

"A social worker," Harry said wisely. "Or a policeman. Or maybe even an adult. Not a regular adult. They never listen." He handed the Doctor the yoghurt.

"I'm not a regular adult," the Doctor said, pouring the yoghurt into his mouth. "Blech –" he spat it out.

"I'm not sure you an adult at all," Harry muttered.

"I hate yoghurt," the Doctor said, ignoring him. "It's just stuff with bits in it."

"You said it was your favourite," Harry pointed out.

"New mouth. New rules. It's like eating after cleaning your teeth. Everything tastes wrong. Argh!"

"What on earth is wrong with you?" Harry asked, mildly concerned, although more about what his aunt would say in the morning then about the man in front of him.

"Wrong with me? It's not my fault. Why can't you give me any decent food?"

Harry sighed.

And so it went, the Doctor finally settling down with a bowl of fish fingers and custard, with Harry sitting across from him, fingers laced underneath his chin.

"Funny," he commented. This wasn't at all what he imagined.

"Am I? Good. Funny's good. What's your name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"Quite right," the Doctor said with an emphatic nod. "Very nice name," he added. "So what about your mum and dad, then? Are they upstairs? Thought we'd have woken them by now."

"I haven't got any of those," Harry told him. "Just my aunt, uncle, and cousin."

"And they put you in the cupboard?" the Doctor asked, forehead creasing.

"Yes," Harry said miserably.

The Doctor jumped up. "Well we can't have that!" he exclaimed. "Come on then, let's see it."

"The cupboard? It's nothing special."

The Doctor ignored that. "Well? Up you get," he said.

Harry sighed loudly and got up from the table, leading the man down the hall to his cupboard. The Doctor opened it, and several expressions crossed his face at once, too quickly for Harry to pick up on.

"Oh, Harry," he said unhappily.

Harry just looked at him.

"You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better?" The Doctor asked him after a long moment.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Everything's going to be fine," the Doctor said quietly. He squeezed Harry's hand. A bell started going off suddenly, and the Doctor paused. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

"What is it?"

"I've got to get back in there. The engines are phasing. It's going to burn!" He said, casting a torn look at Harry.

"It's a box," Harry said blankly, following the tall man out the door and into the backyard. "It doesn't have an engine."

"It's not just a box," the Doctor said, affronted. "It's a time machine."

"There's no such thing," Harry pointed out.

"Well there certainly won't be for much longer if I can't get her stabilized. Five minute hop into the future should do it."

Harry looked skeptical. "Can I come?"

"Not safe in here. Not yet. Five minutes. Give me five minutes, I'll be right back."

Harry half laughed. "People always say that."

"Am I people?" the Doctor asked. "Do I even look like people? Trust me. I'm the Doctor." He jumped down into his blue box with a splash and a shout and Harry just stood there staring for a moment as the box disappeared.

"Not bloody likely," Harry said with a snort. He doubted very much that he'd see the man again. Adults were always lying to him. He trudged back to the kitchen to clean up the mess.

….

8 years later

Harry ran back upstairs to his bedroom, arriving at the window just in time to see the Dursley's car swinging out of the drive and off up the road. He didn't stay to watch them disappear, in fact, he hardly glanced at them at all. He turned from the window and threw himself at the bed.

They wouldn't be coming for him for a few weeks at most, at least not til his birthday, and despite that he was already completely packed.

He felt numb on the inside, numb all the way straight through.

He rolled off of the bed and walked down the stairs, all the way outside into Aunt Petunia's garden. He stood staring around a moment before sitting down on the step.

Finally alone and he wasn't even relieved. Everyone was always leaving him. He was so tired of that. Not that he particularly cared for his so called family, but there was something about being this alone that made him ache a little on the inside.

There was a sudden, unexpected wheezing sound and Harry jerked back as a blue police box materialized in front of him.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded of the man who came flying out of the box.

"Me?" the Doctor demanded. "Who the hell are you? Where's Harry?"

"I'm Harry."

The Doctor stared at him, shocked. "You're Harry? You can't be Harry. I said 5 minutes. I promised."

Harry half laughed. "Try 8 years, maybe."

"Oh, Harry."

The boy's mouth quirked. "You're a bit late. I've a proper bedroom now and everything."

"Ah," the Doctor said. "I suppose I ought to make it up to you," but the boy was already walking away. The Doctor stared after him.

Harry exited the house again shortly, with a trunk and an empty birdcage and a bag. He shoved the duffle bag into the Doctor's arms. "Well come on then. Let's see it."

The Doctor followed him into the TARDIS. "See what?"

"Your time machine, Doctor."

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said, sounding rather pleased.

Harry stared around the TARDIS. "Is this real?"

"I should expect so."

"Oh, brilliant. I was starting to think you were just a mad man in a box."

The Doctor laughed. "Harry Potter, there's something you'd better understand about me, because it's important, and one day your life may depend on it. I am definitely a madman with a box. Ha ha! Yeah. Goodbye Surrey, hello everything."

Review?