Power of Words
By: ann no aku
Plot: The Doctor goes back in time to 1994 to see Rose one final time, still haunted by memories of her. When he arrives, he realizes that someone has taken books and brought them to life (in particular, the Harry Potter books). The Doctor decides to go straight to the source at Hogwarts, infiltrating to figure out what has happened. On his way, he bumps into Dumbledore, whom seems aware that he is a book character. Dumbledore urges the Doctor to help set the world right, all while still playing a key role in the events that occur. Under Dumbledore's guidance and suggestion, the Doctor becomes the new DADA professor at Hogwarts, looking not quite like himself all the time.
Author's Notes: This story takes place during Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (1994) and after the Doctor Who Christmas Special "Voyage of the Damned".
Chapter Two
Wizard Shakespeare
"I hate having to solve this stuff on my own," the Doctor grumbled as he stared at his monitor with his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. "What is going on? Where is all this energy coming from?" He banged on the screen in frustration as the image became wibbly-wabbly then changed to a castle.
"Ah ha! Yes, of course! Where else? At the source! I'm going to Hogwarts!" He jumped up in the air, excited at the prospect of being able to see the magical school he had read about. "But where is it?" The Doctor racked his brain for coordinates of where the school was located. "Think, think. It's unplottable, has magic repelling Muggles—but I'm no Muggle, I'm a Timelord! And I have a spaceship!"
Hastily, he skidded across the floor and stopped in front of the lever to activate the engine. "I can't believe this, I'm going to Hogwarts! Oh, Martha would have loved this." The TARDIS disappeared from the street corner and reappeared over the northern part of England, spinning wildly as it floated above hills and rivers. "Come on, come on. Look for it! Find the energy source! Lock onto it!" he shouted, mashing more buttons with every appendage he could spare.
"There you go. Safe and hidden . . . .where?" He folded his glasses together, stuffed them in his pocket, and grabbed his trusty brown jacket. The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS, only to have it stuck and hitting something solid. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me! Lucky for me I'm skinny." With some difficulty that involved his long coat to get stuck on the TARDIS, the Doctor managed to free himself from the confines of his police box only to find himself locked in a broom closet.
"Of all the secret rooms and hidden passages in this school and I get locked in a cupboard!" He tugged on the handle, tried his sonic screwdriver on it, but to no avail. "Open sesame! Oh, what's that spell?" He pointed his screwdriver at the door and whispered, "Alohamora!"
"What? But that was just a-" he stopped dead as the door creaked open.
"May I offer you some assistance in breaking and entering into Hogwarts?" a tall man with a long white beard and hair asked. He inspected the Doctor with bright blue eyes sparkling over his half-moon spectacles. His wand was still pointed at the door, and it dawned on the Doctor how it really opened.
"Well, I, you know-"
"I am surprised. I didn't think it could be done. How did you do it?"
"Ahem, can't tell you that. It might, er, change things." He slipped his sonic device back into his pocket.
Dumbledore just stared patiently at him as though he had all the time in the world. An amused smile formed on his mouth. "And what's your name, Mister-?"
"Doctor."
"Mister Doctor?"
"No, just Doctor, actually. People just call me the Doctor." With both hands in his pockets, he leaned back on his heels and whistled uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, I forgot, old wizard brain, anyway, what's your, er, position here?"
Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I'm the headmaster Albus Dumbledore."
"Right, right. Sorry." He lightly punched his forehead. "I knew that. I did. I know all about you. Frankly, I am a little surprised to see you here. Isn't it the summer time? School won't be in session for, oh, a month or so."
"You were expecting to find the school empty, Doctor?" Dumbledore asked, his voice light but something accusatory hidden in his old voice.
"Well, yeah, basically. I'm quite used to breaking and entering. Frankly, I can't recall the last time I've been caught this early on." He smiled his boyish grin, not looking the least bit nervous for being apprehended.
"What are you doing here, Doctor?"
"Again, can't tell you. I don't think J.K. would like it too much if she knew what was going on."
"Are you referring to the author, Doctor?" Albus asked, catching the Doctor's full attention.
"How do you know about that?"
"I'm exceptionally clever, Doctor, quite like yourself it seems. I know who and what I am. I'm the only one who does."
"Yes! Of course! You're a genius! You're like Einstein, no he had a fling with Marilyn Monroe—not you're type, by the way. You're like Shakespeare! You understand the power of words. Oh my God, I can't believe it! A wizard Shakespeare! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! You know, I met Shakespeare once. Well, twice. Three if you count that one time," he stopped as he caught the headmaster's gaze again. "Anyway, so nice to meet you, Professor, er-"
"Dumbledore," he repeated. "Come to my office, Doctor, we have much to discuss."
"I get to see your office? Brilliant! I love magic."
"But first, let's go see Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing."
"What? Why? It's not your hand, is it?" The Doctor clamped a firm hand across his mouth. "I didn't say that. And I didn't say that I didn't say it. As a matter of fact, I'm not saying anything! Just ignore me."
"As much as I wish I could ignore your babbles, Doctor, I already know about my hand. We are going to the hospital wing for you head. Did you know that you're bleeding?" Dumbledore asked, pointing to the side of the Doctor's head.
"Yes, yes, I know. I never got around to cleaning it off," he replied dismissively, trying to wave off the headmaster's hand.
"No one offered to help you?"
"Stop that. Just stop it! I know what you're doing; you're using your legilimens to read my thoughts. But you're not real, so it shouldn't work."
"Magic is real, Doctor, whether it is in the form of a book, words, or science." He eyed the broom cupboard, then the Doctor's pocket. "Come along then, Doctor."
"Right, allons-y, Alonz-" he caught himself. "You're name isn't Alonzo, is it?" he asked apologetically.
"Afraid not. It's Albus."
"Right, keep forgetting. Sorry. I met an Alonzo right before coming here; finally got to say 'allons-y, Alonzo'." The Doctor stopped reminiscing long enough to catch the headmaster's warning stare. "Well, allons-y, Albus!"