A Doc, A Bookworm and a Box

Author's Note: Thank you guys for your support of my story! I really do appreciate your positive reviews and I hope you continue to like the way my story is going.

Chapter Two: Our Founding Fathers

Had she known when she woke up that morning where she would as the day came to a close, Hermione wasn't certain what she would have said or what she would have done. She endured several moments of agonizing guilt as she realized the full impact of what she was getting herself into.

She could be gone for weeks, she thought, or what felt like weeks, and only a day might pass for Harry, Ron and Ginny…conversely, she might only feel as if she were gone for a few hours and go home to find that a year had gone by for the people that she loved.

But these feelings lasted for only a moment, because as soon as she had thought then the Doctor wheeled around on her, a spectacular gleam in his eyes and said, "Now how about it Hermione? Where do you want to go?"

"I get to choose?" she stammered. "How can I even decide something like that?"

"Well, for starters which way are we going to go…backward or forward?"

Hermione tapped her finger against her chin. "I always did like history," she said thoughtfully. "Now, when we say backward just how far back are we talking?"

"All the way, if you like," said the Doctor. "In fact, I think I know just the thing. Hang on tight, Miss Granger!" And with that he was darting manically across the bridge of the ship, making adjustments here and there as all around there was a great pulsation of light and a low thrumming noise that seemed to pierce straight into Hermione's soul. She yelped as she suddenly got the sensation of being thrown about, almost landing on the floor as the TARDIS went sailing into it's destination.

"Now that," she said, suppressing an uncharacteristic giggle, "was some ride."

"That was just the start of it," said the Doctor, extending his hand toward hers as he pushed open the doors and took a step outside. Hermione followed him, gasping as she beheld the lush landscape that surrounded them.

It occurred to her at that moment, when everything became real, that even after the events with the spaceship and the elves at Hogwarts that she really hadn't been expecting it all to be true. But here she was standing in some sort of paradise, and against everything that logic told her she knew without a doubt that they were standing in ancient Britain.

There was a certain lay to the land that was achingly familiar to her, like returning home to find that all the little things that made it your own have been removed, or replaced. The mountains that rose high up above were the only things that hadn't changed. She regarded them with wonder, and turning just slightly saw the small castle that would one day rise up to become Hogwarts. She was imagining the forest line pushed back several hundred feet, and picturing the small valley, now home to a handful of ramshackle huts, as the bustling village it would one day become, and knew that without a doubt…no matter how far away she was…she was still home.

"How far back did we go?" she asked in astonishment.

"About fifteen hundred years, give or take," he commented.

"Merlin's beard," she murmured. It was the time of the founders, those visionaries who had seen to the creation of a haven for people like Hermione—witches and wizards, and all others touched by magic. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Because, contrary to what your friend seemed to think, I have in fact read "Hogwarts: A History"," said the Doctor, withdrawing a mangled looking book from the inside pocket of his jacket. "Of course, I thought it was rubbish until you showed up with all your spectacular wand waving."

Hermione rolled her eyes, plucking the book from the Doctor. "That makes a grand total of two people I've ever known who's read the thing. So, you thought I might be interested in seeing the whole thing firsthand?" she asked, flipping through the pages until she found the section on the founders.

"Don't you?" he asked.

"Well of course." She tossed the book back to him and the two fell in step together, making their way down the steep ridge that led to the valley below.

They were halfway down when a stallion burst out from the covered forest. "Whoa!" the man cried out, rearing back just in time to avoid hitting Hermione. "What are you doing up here?" he cried out.

"We're just passing through!" said Hermione.

"Bit of fresh air, that's right," said the Doctor.

"These woods are dangerous." The man dismounted in one swift move, throwing the reins over the back of his horse. He was tall and broad, with a handsome face and a full mane of blonde hair. There was something fierce in his eyes, this was the thing that Hermione noticed most of all as the three stood in silence regarding one another. "I think you should return with me to the village."

"I'm sorry, we were just—"

"I'm sorry. It wasn't a suggestion."

"Listen…" the Doctor reached for his coat pocket, pulling out a leather bound item the size of a wallet. He presented it to the man, who stared at it for a moment. "We're just passing through, on official business. If you'd less us pass…"

He'd barely finished speaking when the man shoved the paper back at him. "Surely you jest if you think that such a simple trick could fool Godric Gryffindor."

"Gryffindor?" Hermione squeaked, clapping a hand over her mouth when the man spun around to look at her.

"As you see, your fame precedes you. Lead on," said the Doctor.

Walking ahead of Gryffindor, Hermione and the Doctor maintained their silence all the way to Hogsmeade. "What was that paper?" Hermione finally hissed.

"It's slightly psychic."

"And you really expected that to work on a wizard?" Hermione asked.

"It was worth a go," he said. Hermione groaned as they were ushered into a grimy looking little pub. They fell silent again as Gryffindor ordered them to take a seat at the table nearest the bar, where they spent several minutes being stared at by a one-eyed witch that by all appearances had already reached the second century mark. When Gryffindor returned he was followed by a tall, lean man with a hawk-like countenance He was dressed in emerald robes, and around his neck a snake was draped like a scarf.

"Salazar Slytherin," Hermione whispered to the Doctor before the two men sat down at the table with them.

Gryffindor was the first to speak. He laid one hand to rest atop the table and with the other casually caressed the end of his sword—a sword that was incredibly familiar to Hermione.

"I want to know who you are," he said. "And what you were doing in the forest."

"As I said earlier, we're just passing through," said the Doctor.

"Only the Four pass through that forest," said Slytherin. Of all the things that shocked Hermione, it was the sound of his voice. She hadn't really thought of it before—had never had a reason to. But she would have thought there'd be a roughness to his voice, or that it would have the high timbre of Voldemort, not that it would be warm and smooth as silk.

"We were just taking a little stroll…you know, it's really rude to try and scan somebody's brain without their permission," he said suddenly. Slytherin started and Gryffindor backed away from the table, reaching for his sword as the former took hold of his wand. Hermione's hand shot to her pocket and the Doctor came forth with his Sonic Screwdriver.

"Well, it looks like we're in a standoff," said Hermione under her breath. Just how she had ended up as the enemy of two of the most important wizards in magical history was not certain to her—for a wild moment her only thought was just how she was going to tell this story to the boys back home.

"If you want to pass through this place safely," said Slytherin suddenly, "then one of you must let me see inside your mind."

Hermione glanced over at the Doctor. He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded almost imperceptibly. All right…so the duty was going to fall to her. Hermione let her hand drop to the table. "Look inside mine," she said quietly. In a similar exchange to the one that she had just had with the Doctor, Slytherin and Gryffindor seemed to decide that this was acceptable. Without relinquishing his hold on his wand, Slytherin turned his gaze to hers.

"Let me look at you, child," she heard. A sedate quality took over, and she felt the channels of her thoughts and memories being opened and explored. Flashes of memory came to her—at eleven she opened the letter that would change the course of her life forever. A few months later she saw him for the first time—the boy with the lightning bolt shaped scar.

The time turner twisted around her neck, and a jolting leap through time, then a little while later a girl in blue dress robes crying on the grand staircase as she thought of the silly stubborn boy she couldn't help but love. The Dark Lord rising, and the death and destruction that followed and finally, the chaotic and nightmarish jumble of images and sounds that she had brought with her from the memory of that night.

She had just stepped into the TARDIS, once again, when she felt the hold on her mind released.

"Time traveler?" Slytherin moved back in astonishment. "A girl…so very far from home. And you…not even of this world." He was silent for several moments, then suddenly he rose to his feet. "You leave me no choice but to demand you come with us. Godric, ready the horses. And young lady," he added, turning his attention to her once more, "I would suggest you not attempt to escape."

Though it was unmistakably Hogwarts, it looked very little like the school that it would one day become. Only the most basic part of the castle had been formed—Hermione recognized the Great Hall, and the wide doors that led to the entrance. The Great Lake was much smaller than it would eventually become and, Hermione thought, was at this point in time completely squid free.

There was a petite woman with a round face and a shock of long black hair working in the gardens as they approached the building. She looked up, her dark and pretty face registering surprise.

"Find Rowena. We have a matter of some importance to discuss." All three men dismounted, and before Hermione could get down Godric had came around the side of her horse and put his hands at her waist. "May I?" he asked, pulling her down to the ground. Hermione blushed, stammering a quick thanks before they were ushered into the building.

"That's got to be Helga Hufflepuff," whispered Hermione to the Doctor, "and that would be…"

She trailed off as the tall blonde woman walked into the room. Hermione was astonished—not by her beauty, although there was that—but because it almost appeared to Hermione that she were looking at a living version of the Gray Lady. A remarkable silver diadem was shining against her golden hair…an artifact, Hermione thought with a sudden thrill, that she would destroy herself in several hundred years time.

"The last one I'm guessing," finished the Doctor. "Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Please, join us," said Helga, gesturing to the long table that filled the center of the room. The Doctor and Hermione sat at one side, and all but Helga taking a seat at the opposite end. She saw Slytherin touch Rowena's hand, and after a moment her eyes flashed open. Hermione imagined it to be an advanced form of the legilimency he had used on her earlier, a sort of thought transfer that instantly appraised Rowena of what was happening.

"How curious," she said. Her gaze slid around the table, settling firmly on the Doctor. "You have come very far." Then, unexpectedly, she smiled. "And you have come none too soon. Please, do not be alarmed. You are a guest here.

*****

"Some guest." Hermione moved to heavy wooden door, pushing against it. It didn't budge.

"Don't be too miffed," said the Doctor. "What's the use of having this nifty dungeon if you can't have any prisoners?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had a deep longing for her wand, which had been confiscated as Rowena graciously led them to their cell. She looked over at the Doctor, who was toying with his Sonic Screwdriver as he sat on a low bench next to her. He'd been allowed to keep it as none of the four had detected the presence of magic in it.

"So," she said finally, "are you going to get us out of here?"

"In just a moment. I was thinking. Hermione, it seemed to be like that Slytherin bloke…could he talk to snakes?"

"He was well known for it," said Hermione. "It was a trait that marked both him and his heirs for generations."

"Huh. There was something about him. The reptilian traits…and how incredibly strong his mind was. Almost got into mine," he added.

"A lot of great wizards have been skilled Legilimens," said Hermione. "What of it?"

"It's just that there was no power in it." The Doctor walked up to the door where Hermione stood, pressing his hand against the heavy oak. "Your magic…it's fueled entirely by this power source that was given to your kind, long ago. And I can detect traces of it all over the place." He pulled away, to Hermione's surprise leaning forward and giving the wood a quick lick. "You can even taste it…kind of metallic. There was nothing in the sort in Slytherin's probing. Which means his powers come from somewhere…or something…else."

"Wait," said Hermione, rounding on the Doctor. "Are you trying to tell me that Salazar Slytherin…one of the greatest wizards to ever live…was…"

"An alien? That's exactly what I'm getting at. Which means he isn't going to want the pair of us getting out of here anytime soon."

"But that's impossible!" said Hermione in shock.

"You just traveled over a thousand years in time with an alien. Trust me," he said, pulling out the screwdriver, "its not as impossible as you might think."

A blue light erupted from the screwdriver and the hinges of the door squeaked and gave way. He pushed it open, peering around the corner. "Come on!" he hissed, reaching for Hermione's hand as they broke into a run down the corridor.

"Shh! Somebody's coming!" hissed Hermione, yanking the doctor after her and ducking into a small chamber filled with several bright cauldrons, most simmering with freshly brewed potions.

The Doctor stayed at the door, ear pressed to it. "I think that's the little dark one," he said. Hermione stepped away, going to examine the various brews.

"I think this one is the Draught of Living Death," she said. "And this one…a love potion?" she said in surprise. "It smells like the thing…or person…you most desire," she said. She tried to avoid the vapors floating up from the cauldron, unable to escape a brief whiff. At one time, she had been reminded of the Burrow when she smelt it, remembering boys cologne and grass clippings. She didn't know whether it dismayed her or not, but she wasn't surprised to find that the scent had changed…but to what, she couldn't tell, although she was reminded of the musky scent of thousands of books rounded up in a library.

"What's that clear one, there?" he asked.

Hermione looked down at the next cauldron in line. "Veritaserum," she breathed. "Just finished, from the looks of it. The Truth-Teller's Brew," she added. Her fingers twitched as she spotted a tray of glass vials. "It could be useful," she breathed. The Doctor's hand closed over her own and he shook his head.

"No, Hermione. Not this time."

She looked up at him, then nodded. "You're right." She was about to step away from the table completely when the Doctor himself rounded on the last of the cauldrons, this one a heavy looking silver metal. "Platinum," he said in surprise.

"Platinum? That's never been used in potion making." She glanced over the lip of the cauldron, gasping when she saw what was inside. "Oh my God!"

There was a head inside. More to the fact, her head was inside. She felt a wave of nausea overtake her as it bobbed up to the surface, wide brown eyes staring sightlessly up at her. "Oh my God," she said again. She fell into the Doctor's outstretched arms, fighting to overcome the wave of nausea that had overtaken her. "What the hell is that?"

"A clone…or part of one," said the Doctor. Releasing Hermione, he moved to scan the head with the screwdriver. "It's not flesh," he said finally, reaching into the cauldron to pull it up by the hair.

Hermione took a large step back. The Doctor lifted it up, staring at it for a moment. "Plastic," he said, tossing it to her.

It weighed no more than a pound. This was the first thought that came to Hermione when she caught it, although she wasn't certain why this was the thing she noticed. She traced her finger along the cheek, feeling the slick plastic underneath her fingers. "It's a strange color," she commented.

"About the color of your friend Salazar," said the Doctor. Disgusted, Hermione dropped the thing back into the cauldron.

"Why plastic?" said Hermione. "Plastic doesn't even exist in this world. And wizards have never used it, for anything."

"It's not any ordinary plastic," said the Doctor. "It's alien, and organic."

"So what's it doing here, and looking like me?"

They were silent for a long moment. Finally, taking her by the shoulder, the Doctor said, "We'd better be going."

The hall was now deserted. They fled, not stopping until the reached the first floor. "Where do you think they'll have put my wand?" she asked.

"Is it really that important?" he replied.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "What part of this whole 'witch' thing don't you understand?" she asked. "Anyway, what would you do if you lost that thing?"

They whispered back and forth for several seconds, until somebody announced themselves with a quiet cough. The turned—Gryffindor was standing there, his hand on his sword as he regarded the both of them.

"There has been some strangeness afoot," he said. "I saw what was in your mind. I'm sorry," he added quickly, "but I let myself look when Salazar was looking. You come from somewhere further on in time. And you know our history." From the insides of his robes he withdrew a familiar book. "You know who we are…and what becomes of us."

Hermione was shaking. She started to take a step back, debating whether or not to run, when Gryffindor put his hand to hers. "Please. All that we have built is on the verge of ruin. Help us."

Salazar Slytherin had not always been the man that he would be remembered as for centuries after.

Hermione listened to Gryffindor's story in a mild state of shock It was hard to believe, given over a decade of history lessons and personal experience that to Hermione all to well confirmed something completely different. But the story of Salazar Slytherin was unexpected and, to her at least, more than a little frightening.

He had been a young boy whose parents had been killed by muggles. They hadn't been strong enough to defend themselves, Gryffindor said, as there had been nobody to train them, and Slytherin had been left alone in the world until the man had come along. Their mentor—Anton Hogwart—had adopted Slytherin, and later taught the other three.

Slytherin had always been hard and cold, and had never been able to forgive the muggles for what had happened to his family. But never before had he been callous. Never before had he been a murderer, until the day that the new creatures arrived in the Forbidden Forest.

"Basilisks," Hermione gasped when the word came about.

"We've had an invasion of them," said Gryffindor. "Of course Salazar can control them. He claims that the school will be safe so long as he and his heirs remain there, keeping them at bay."

"Could he control snakes before?" asked the Doctor.

"No. It was…sudden and strange."

"I knew it." The Doctor looked troubled all of a sudden. "I think I know what's going on here. Godric, you need to…"

"He needs to what?"

The three of them turned around. "You have got to be kidding me," said Hermione, as she looked at a near perfect duplicate of herself. The clone was wearing emerald robes, and holding something that made Hermione suddenly very, very angry.

"That is my wand," she said.

"I am you. A better version of you," said the clone. Her lips curled away from her teeth, tongue snaking between them. "And you will not return to your time. We require your knowledge." The clone held up her wand, pointing it directly at Hermione's chest.

"Can she use that thing?" asked the Doctor.

"I think she was created with it," said Hermione. "Magical wands are very personal objects. They acquire the essence of person…like a magical DNA…"

"And when Slytherin took your wand he used it to create your doppelganger," the Doctor finished.

"The wand…my wand!" Hermione's mind began to run in overdrive. She thought of all the wand theory she had ever heard of, even remembering the exact way that Harry had defeated Voldemort five years before. Then it came to her in a flash. She grabbed the Doctor's arm, yanking the screwdriver from his hand.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" he shouted.

"Your weapon is no match for me," said the clone. Her eyes blinked, a filmy second eyelid coming sideways over her iris. Hermione shuddered, gripping the screwdriver tight before extending her hand back to the Doctor.

"Take it back from me!" she ordered.

The Doctor was giving her his best 'you are completely mad' look, reaching over to pluck it back from her hand. Hermione rounded back on the clone, who still had the wand pointed at her breast.

"Avada—!" the clone shouted.

"Expelliarmus!" Gryffindor roared. Hermione's wand flew up from the clone's hand before she could finish the spell. It landed in the palm of his hand.

"You know a lot about wand law," said Gryffindor. "You forced the wand out of your own hand."

"I've seen that sort of thing before," said Hermione. "Pretty clever way of fighting a battle, actually."

The clone was now hunched over, spittle dripping from her teeth. Hermione began to back toward Gryffindor as it spoke, it's voice taking on a hissing quality. "You will die, girl from the future. And I will slaughter the man from the stars." It began to laugh, a gravelly sound that filled the room.

"Not if I kill you first," said Hermione. She reached out behind her, taking hold of Gryffindor's hand. It was gripped around the hilt of his sword and, wordlessly, he relinquished it into her grasp.

"I know everything you know," said the snake. "And I'm stronger."

"Thought transfer," said the Doctor. "Slytherin took a copy of your thoughts and put them into its head."

"Very clever," said the clone. "If the Basilisk had need of an ally you would do nicely."

Hermione slid the sword from Gryffindor's hand, keeping it hidden behind her back. "So you can see everything I've seen?" she asked. "You remember everything I remember?"

"What an extraordinary life for such an ordinary child," said the creature.

"Then perhaps you'll remember three things. First of all I am a Gryffindor, through and through." She stood up straight, staring into the bright green eyes of the monster. "Second of all, think about what my best friend did to the last of your species on earth. And third of all…" she lunged forward, swinging the sword in a perfect arc and met the monster's neck. The head went lolling down onto the floor, syrupy green blood, spraying across the hardwood, "I really, really hate snakes."

The Doctor winced, moving forward to peer at what was left of the clone, once again using the screwdriver to scan it. "The body is a skin," he said after a moment. "The Basilisk creature is inside. The body and skin hadn't fused yet."

"What did that mean?"

Hermione and the Doctor turned around to see Gryffindor staring at her strangely. She handed him the sword, allowing herself a small smile. "I was sorted into your house my first year in Gryffindor," she said.

He regarded her for a moment. "I am proud to have you," he said.

"I hate to interrupt this little moment,' said the Doctor,, "but there are more of the creatures on their way. I suggest you take your wand back and run!"

She took it, and together the three of them made their way back to the Great Hall. Hermione slammed into the Doctor as he came to a hold, taking hold of him as she peered over his shoulder to see what was going on.

At the center of the hall stood Salazar Slytherin, flanked on either side by the other two founders. "You will not defeat me," he said. He raised his wand, pointing it directly at them.

"What have you done with my friends?" said Gryffindor. His sword was drawn, still covered with the blood of the Hermione-clone. Slytherin's gaze fell down to it, then slowly crept back up to meet Hermione's gaze.

"You are such a clever girl. It will be almost an honor to destroy you."

"You will do no such thing," said Gryffindor. They sprang into action, Gryffindor locked into battle with Slytherin while Hermione and the Doctor were forced to face Rowena and Helga. After a fierce few moments they got past the door and began to run, not stopping until they reached the landing that would one day lead to the astronomy tower.

"They'll be harder to defeat. They've been in their forms longer," said the Doctor.

"Then what are we going to do?" asked Hermione.

The Doctor was silent for a long moment. "Hermione, you said that you have basilisks in your world. What can you tell me about them?"

"Giant snakes with petrifying gazes…they're susceptible to the sound of a rooster crowing, and…"

"What did you say?"

"Their gaze is petrifying." Then the implication of what she was saying hit her. If the gaze of the Basilisk was petrifying, why hadn't she already been turned to stone, or killed? She had stared directly into the eyes of the beast.

"These are just infants," she said.

The Doctor nodded. "And if they are, then their mothers must be not far off."

"We can't kill it," said Hermione suddenly.

"I think we could, given…"

"No." Hermione's head dropped. "It's an important part of our history. My history—Harry Potter defeats the basilisk, and in turn is able to defeat Voldemort. But I think I know what we can do," she said. "Follow me."

It wasn't a girl's restroom, at that time. It was a massive laboratory for the study of alchemy, a practice that Hogwarts had abandoned sometime after the days of Nicholas Flamel.

"He was real, you know," said Hermione, as she searched the small room for the series of taps that would let them down into the Chamber of Secrets. "Nicholas Flamel. He died about ten years ago."

"The alchemist Nicholas Flamel," said the Doctor. "Creator of the Philosopher's Stone. I guess he really did manage to achieve some manner of immortality. How about it, any more celebrity witches and/or wizards I should know about?"

"Anne Boleyn, and Queen Elizabeth the First of course."

"Not surprising," said the Doctor.

"Jane Austen."

"Oh come on," he said. He began running his fingers along the drains. "You're kidding."

"I am not. She wrote several books about the magical world. 'Magic and Moderation', 'Hestia', and the sequel to 'Pride and Prejudice'. I actually prefer it to the original. Let me see," she considered as she came closer to the area where she was certain the tap would be. "J.R.R. Tolkien was a wizard. The Lord of the Rings is actually the collected history of the fairy race. He got it all wrong about the elves though."

"Tolkien? I met him once." He sat back for a moment. "You know, honestly, I'm not surprised. What about…ooh, I don't know…Nostradamus?"

"No. He was a nutter." Hermione sighed when she found the tap, pushing aside the piles of scrolls and magical instruments to reveal it. The snakes on the tap were just as she remembered, though much newer in appearance. "Now, let's see if I can remember how to do this," she said. Then she paused. "The Tardis translates everything, does it?"

"Absolutely everything."

"Then it should translate Parselmouth." She hit the top with her wand. "Oy, open up," she said. Almost automatically the tap pulled back, revealing a gaping hole that led down into the heart of the castle. She conjured up a long, dense rope, fastening it to the head of the top.

"So what do we need to do?" he asked.

"The legend has always been that the basilisk slept in the heart of the castle, and it slept until Tom Riddle woke it, in my time. So we just need to make sure it takes a nap for a few centuries."

"Without the mother to nourish them, the infants will die," said the Doctor. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. "Now how…how…I've got it! Snakes are cold-blooded. I noticed something about the Hermione head when I picked it up in the laboratory…it was warm. What if those skins do more than conceal it?"

"The organic plastic," said Hermione. "It insulates them."

"Here we go." The Doctor led the way down the tunnel, Hermione close behind him. They fell down into a pit that was filled with fire. Everywhere they looked torches lined the stone walls. It had to have been well over a hundred degrees inside, or hotter. Hermione got the impression that she was walking into a brick oven.

"Mummy's not home," said the Doctor.

"Then we'll need to bring her home." Hermione walked along the side of the room, to where enormous stone drains stood high up on the walls. She leaned into one, then turned to look at the Doctor.

He nodded at her. Hermione pointed her wand toward the hole. "Expecto Patronum!" she cried out. A silvery mist erupted from her wand, and using her mind to control it Hermione sent the Patronus flying along the drains. After several minutes there was a loud screeching. Hermione maintained the spell for just an instant longer. Then, breaking it, she turned.

"I suggest we start putting out the fire, now."

There were hundreds of flames, and the Basilisk was swiftly approaching. "We'll never get them all out in time," she said.

Then, in the midst of putting out a torch, the Doctor stopped. "Can you get some items from the laboratory? Quickly?"

"What do you need," she asked.

He requested a handful of chemicals—chemicals in just as common usage in muggle labs as in wizarding ones, she noted. Carefully summoning them down to her, the Doctor began to mix them at the center of the room. He held on to the last bottle and looked back. "Get to the side of the room, and hold your breath," he said. "Now."

At just that instant the basilisk burst into the room. Hermione pressed herself against the wall, averting her gaze from the monster's direction. Suddenly, there was an enormous explosion. The shockwave pressed her up against the brick, knocking the breath out of her. Despite her instructions she tried to take a deep breath, realizing in an instant two things.

There was no air in the room, at all. And it had gone completely black.

"Doctor?" she whispered.

There was a loud screeching. The monster rounded on her, and Hermione scrambled out of the way as it crashed into the wall. Suddenly she felt the Doctor's hand surround hers. She was growing dizzy as the lack of air began to get to her. She was taking shallow breaths, none of which were pumping any oxygen into her lungs, and her eyes were beginning to tear up.

She felt the Doctor put his arm around her waist. He pulled the both of them up and out of the pit, fighting against the gush of air that was rushing into the chamber to replace the air that had been lost in the vacuum. Hermione's eyes fluttered—she passed out, head falling against the Doctor's shoulders. He closed the top and then lifted Hermione into his arms, taking her with him to the entrance.

***

Godric Gryffindor stood over the bodies of whatever it was that had taken the place of his friends. He didn't yet know where Rowena and Helga were. Slytherin, he knew without having to ask, was gone to him forever, the doppelganger escaped into the night…to create his heirs, as Gryffindor knew would be the mark of the future.

The Doctor came down with Hermione in his arms. She was beginning to stir, and he carefully deposited her on a table, where she was able to sit upright and take several deep breaths.

"The Chamber that connects to the third floor—close it off completely." He shook Gryffindor's hand. "Something tells me that you'll find the other two, all in good time."

"I am certain I will. Like you, I know what it means to be friends with strong women." He looked at Hermione where she was sitting. He picked up the trench coat, where it had been left that morning, and draped it over her shoulders. "Take care of her," he said. "People who get sorted in my house have a habit of finding trouble," he added.

"I'll make a note of it," said the Doctor. "I also get the feeling this isn't the last I'll be seeing of you. However, I think that you can handle the rest of the basilisks on your own. I'm going to get her out of her."

"Go on, old friend," said Gryffindor.

The Doctor began to walk away, then glanced up at the ceiling. A painted mural of fairies and dragons danced overhead. He paused, then went back to Gryffindor. "I do have one little suggestion. Actually, two," he said. "The first is that you might want to put in a room where one may find…ooh, I don't know…anything they require. And the second…"

The Doctor stared upward. "It would be nice if you gave the kids a place where they could see the stars. Until next time," he added. And, helping Hermione to her feet, he led her from the castle and out into the cool night air.