DB-DBZ-DBGTfab2016: Note, this is not my story, as i said in the summery, this is my best friends story. Her screenname is CaptinJack'sMurderer, you'll see why later on. Everything in here belongs to her imagination.
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC.
Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling.
I own Morgan.
When a big blue Police Telephone Box materialized in a Hogwarts corridor, 13-year-olds Harry, Hermione, and Ron were first on the scene.
"Oh my flipping heck," Ron said.
"The blue box," Hermione gasped. "It turns up in so many Muggle legends and here it is…in a Hogwarts corridor."
"What's in it?" Harry queried.
"Some accounts say a demon, some say a good wizard, and others say a fearless warrior."
"What do you say?" Ron asked. A man stepped out of the box and Hermione gasped.
"Oh my gosh, he's gorgeous."
The man was tall, with messy brown hair, a thin face, and a wide grin. He was wearing a blue suit and a long brown coat. When he saw the trio, his grin widened. "Hello. This box…my transport…she sensed an energy disturbance and she couldn't resist it…oh, is it a Sunday?"
"No sir, it's a Saturday," Hermione stuttered.
"Good, good, I like Saturdays. Saturdays are always good. No wonder she landed here." He abruptly switched tracks. "How rude of me! I'm the Doctor, and you are?"
"I'm Harry Potter; this is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."
He gasped. "No! I-I—no! What year is it for you?"
"Our…our third, sir," Harry said tremulously.
"A good year. Lots of surprises ahead, I-oh, hello! Professor McGonagall, I believe!" He pounced upon the astonished witch and shook her hand vigorously. "I'm the Doctor…err, is my box in the way?"
She circled the box. "How does it function? Electronics don't work inside Hogwarts."
"Oh, she's not electronic! She's alive, she's got a soul…oh, is this the year with the dementors?"
"Yes," the astonished professor stammered.
"I better not park her outside, then. I can't imagine a dementor would handle the raw power of the TARDIS soul…that could get messy." Hermione was growing ever more entranced by this mysterious and gorgeous Doctor. Harry took her by the arm.
"It's time for Defense, Hermione, we wouldn't want to miss Lupin."
The Doctor asked, "Am I allowed to sit in?" He took out his psychic paper. "Representative for the International Bureau of Coed Magical Schools." Hermione, still blushing, took it upon herself to lead their guest to the classroom. Lupin glanced up.
"I haven't seen you about," he said. "My name is Remus Lupin."
"I'm the Doctor."
"Do you have a name?"
"Just the Doctor. A friend of mine routinely referred to me as 'sweetie', but that was a bit awkward. I represent the International Bureau of Coed Magical Schools."
Lupin tilted his head as if he sensed the lie, but he didn't say anything.
The lesson passed uneventfully, albeit with some rude remarks from Draco. When the Doctor saw Lupin work magic, he said, "So that's why she brought me here."
After the lesson, Hermione suggested that they go to the Gryffindor common room. The Doctor said,
"That's a brilliant idea."
"Most of hers are," Harry remarked, and she glowed. As they set foot in the common room, a pretty girl with brown hair glanced up. Upon seeing the Doctor, she stood up and hissed with her grey eyes narrowed.
"Morgan?" Hermione queried.
"You!" she spat at the Doctor.
"You know him?" Ron asked.
"By legend only. Legend has it that the Doctor, the demon in the blue box, locked my ancestress Morgana le Fay in unbreakable chain on the Isle of Avalon. She died there, you know," she said softly. "Do you regret it?"
"It had to be done," the Doctor replied. Hermione sat down with her Arithmancy homework; Harry and Ron delved into Defense. The Doctor approached Morgan.
"I know you resent me, and I understand. But there are massive energy readings originating from this castle, and it could be dangerous. I need your help, Morgan le Fay." She considered him with a gaze highly reminiscent of McGonagall.
"This I will do," she said finally. (Author's note: This is set during David Tennant's year alone in '09. Harry is in his third year.) Morgan took the Doctor to the library. "I need the History of Wizardkind. When did it begin?" She skimmed the shelves and selected Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy.
"The earliest lines begin in the B.C. Wizardkind evolved with the Neanderthals and Cro-Magnons."
"Dark Times, that's what those were called. Carrionites were spreading their empire across the galaxies."
"Carrionites?"
"Shape-shifting aliens that harness energy; they can manipulate pure matter, and they called that magic. Suppose, early on, Carrionites mated with the evolving human race to create Wizardkind, who would naturally inherit their ancestors' powers…"
"We're aliens?" Morgan quavered.
"No, not really. You're a different species with different powers, but that's nothing to be ashamed of."
"But what about the talking paintings, or Animagi, or werewolves?"
"Suppose somewhere down the line a gene got mutated, creating the first werewolf. As for Animagi…the Carrionite are, and have always been, shape shifters. Err, the paintings…a single witch or wizard generates so much energy that some of it seeps into the surroundings, which causes ghosts and talking paintings."
"Doctor, why did you lock Morgana away?"
"She wasn't just a witch; she was a true Carrionite…oh, dear."
"Remembered, have you, Doctor?" purred a woman who much resembled an older Morgan. "The ancient and primeval Spells of Binding were loosed the moment you said my name."
"I never said Morgana…"
"I have had many names throughout the centuries: Morrigan, Badb, Macha, Morgana, but my name was always Morgan le Fay." She turned to the younger Morgan and chanted, "Little niece, come with me. There are places to go and creatures to see." Morgan cocked her head. She seemed entranced. Suddenly, something tackled the Carrionite to the floor, and the spell of her gaze was broken. "Run!" Lupin yelled.
"Remus Lupin, the wolfish one. Hated since his life begun," the creature rhymed. He moaned, and his eyes flickered shut.
"Carrionites enchant in rhymes. It harnesses the power better than plain old words," the Doctor groaned.
"Rhymes are a talent of mine," Morgan replied with the ghost of a grin.
"Oh, little niece," sighed the older Morgan, getting to her feet, "you have no hope of beating me."
"The ignoble blood of Queen Morgan of Gore now turns to ice as she falls to the floor," the girl crooned malevolently. A spiderwebbing sheen of ice crept over the Carrionite's body. The younger girl smirked.
"Words are not so good a cuff as chain or iron; now that's enough!" Heavy manacles appeared around the frozen witch's hands. They knelt beside Lupin's still body. Morgan grasped his wrist to find his pulse.
"He'll be alright in a few minutes," the Doctor said; the he felt a warm little mouth on his neck. "Wha-?"
Morgan hauled him to his feet and kissed him.
After supper that night, the Doctor returned to his TARDIS.
"It's been really lovely. Thanks, all."
Hermione, who had not heard about the kissing incident yet, asked, "How do you time travel, sir? Have you a Time Turner?"
He winked. "Oh no. My very contrary vehicle is alive." With that, he stepped into the TARDIS and disappeared. (Author's note: I addressed Morgan le Fay by her title, Queen Morgan of Gore. Also, I realize that I haven't given the younger Morgan an age. She is thirteen like Harry and his friends.)
About a week after the Doctor's visit, another familiar mischief-maker appeared at Hogwarts.
"Well, I must've turned somewhere I shouldn't, because this doesn't look at all like Cardiff," Jack Harkness mused, gazing at the tall and forbidding stone building before him. An inexplicable chill swept over his heart, accompanied by a deluge of terrible memories.
"Luciene! Marvolo! Enough!" A girl with brown hair threw open the gate. "Sorry, dementors can be a pain sometimes."
"Dementors?"
"Soul-sucking creatures."
"And you named them?"
"They don't seem too fussed, surprisingly." She examined him critically. "You're Jack Harkness."
"How do you know?"
"You're on the Muggle most-wanted list. Come with me."
"You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours."
"No, you don't," she replied coolly, halting the discussion. Instead of leading him to the castle, she had led him to a clearing in the Forbidden Forest. A dog was sitting on one side of the clearing, but once he saw Morgan, he ran at them. In a second, he was upon them, whimpering and jumping all over Morgan, licking her chin, his tail wagging hard enough to shake his whole body.
"Okay! Down, boy, down!" she laughed. The dog sat obediently for all of two seconds before he snuffled Jack none-too-gently.
"Stay, Fluffy," Jack ordered. The dog growled, his black hackle fur standing on end. "Your pooch hates me."
"He isn't my pooch, he's my friend." Instead of a dog, a man was sitting, cross-legged, where the dog had been a moment ago.
"Okay, he's all yours, Padfoot," Morgan said.
"Should I save Moony a piece?" the man asked, his voice whispery and rough.
"He'd get indigestion," Morgan replied. The man called Padfoot rolled up his sleeves, pulled out a wand, and aimed it at Jack. Before the astonished man could begin to ask what he was doing, a burst of green light erupted from the wand and sent him sprawling, dead.
"He'll wake up any second, help me get him to the gates," Morgan said. Padfoot turned back into the dog and carried Jack to the gate on his back.
"Luciene, Marvolo, he's yours," Morgan said. Needless to say, the dementors got indigestion. (Author's note: Whether or not the dementors keep Jack's soul is entirely up to you. If you want him dead, that is brilliant.)