A/N: Asides from New Years Eve and everything, today is also a somewhat special day in regards of this fan fiction: Exactly a year ago, I typed the first words on Goedel's Incompleteness (which you can, by the way, find as pdf files in two different orders on my profile).

So, as a kind of, errrm, celebration, but more accurately because of the great support by Useful and WeirdCornChip, here we are with another chapter after all that time. On that note, I would really like to thank anybody who's bothered kicking my lazy butt via reviews, faves and alerts even though I kept taking my sweet time to come up with the next chapters.

I really hope the break in style and fluency is not that painfully obvious, and I'll try to get this entire thing wrapped up before I end up in yet another hiatus.

So anyway, enough with the ramblings: enjoy!


Relativity, Part 2: Delusions

4. "I am innocent." (2)


Hermione, November 6th 1994, 12:12

She did not mean to eavesdrop. She really did not.

But Hermione was worried - worried enough to wait for the Doctor to finish his conversation with Snape before she stormed around the corner to ask what the heck had happened to her teacher when he had vanished without a trace that night. She repeatedly told herself she was being respectful in standing there patiently, yet as she unintentionally overheard bits and pieces of a conversation not meant for her ears, she realized that maybe this way she would get much more of an answer than the Doctor would offer if confronted directly anyway.

And, really, she just had to find out. She had still not entirely decided what to make of the story he had told her and her friends on that one evening in the library. In any case, Dumbledore seemed to trust him far enough to let him teach at Hogwarts, and she could not help admitting he had made a great decision. With a refreshing world view and an amicable attitude atop of a seemingly endless pool of sheer knowledge, the Doctor made a great teacher. So even if it were for that reason alone, Hermione was worried.

It might not be obvious to everyone, yet whatever had kept him from returning to Hogwarts for nearly two days had shaken him up. His lecture mere hours prior as well as his general behaviour had gotten her both suspicious and concerned – and more than just a little scared.

She was not naïve enough to just ignore the fact that not many wizards could even pull off multiple illusions of such a magnitude at once. The Doctor was skilled - almost intimidatingly so. More importantly, though, she had to find out why he would deem this demonstration necessary in the first place.

"Really, now more than ever I need you to tell me whatever strikes you as odd," she heard him rambling just around the corner, "Whatever I deemed important enough to be turned into a bizarre alternate version of the truth, I might not see it. So I absolutely need you to work with me here."

Hermione's eyes widened. An alternate version of the truth? She had feared the Doctor must have been hurt somehow, but this...definitely felt odd.

"I shall keep your concerns in mind," she heard Snape replying with a slow sigh, "and yet I cannot help noting the difficulty of that task. You do have a long history of omitting crucial details from your stories."

"Come on, Severus, don't pull that one on me now of all times," the Doctor called out in exasperation, "I only omitted the parts you wouldn't have believed anyway, and you know that well enough."

"And yet," Snape spoke quietly, "how exactly do you expect me to differentiate between your usual ramblings and your delusional ones?"

Delusional? Blinking, Hermione inhaled sharply. So her teacher had fallen victim to a Confundus Charm...or worse? He seemed sane enough, yet it did explain his different behaviour. In any case, even beyond the obvious this was pretty bad. After all, he had stressed on several occasions that mind altering spells were the most dangerous ones.

But somehow, she failed to grasp the actual weight of the situation.

Worse yet, she feared she might have gasped too audibly a moment ago. A long silence had stretched ever since, and she was pretty sure she would find herself face to face with a furious Snape any second now.

But nothing like that happened. Rather, she suddenly heard the Doctor heaving a sigh. "See, planet Kelt in the constellation of Auriga has this really secluded species of bat people that praise you by openly discrediting you," he offered matter of factly and raised his voice in challenge, "Now you tell me if that comparison was delusional or not."

Another long moment of silence passed until it was broken by the Doctor stifling a laugh. Yet it was the unfamiliar sound of Snape actually joining in with a small huff that made Hermione reconsider her decision to keep waiting there.

If anything, her concern had only grown, yet she could not just keep watching her professors' strange friendly banter like some kind of stalker.

Really, she was better than that. She would just talk to the Doctor later.

And she would certainly not be freaked out by the large hand that suddenly rested on her shoulder just as an unfamiliar voice addressed her, "Give him some time. He's really just had a rough weekend." Shuddering, she spun around to face a suspicious stranger wearing muggle clothing in the middle of Hogwarts. Without giving her another moment to regain her composure, he introduced himself as Jack Harkness. Eventually, it was his disarming smile that made her reply with her own name.

"I am an old friend of the Doctor," he offered as an explanation of his unexpected presence and nodded towards the man in question for stress. Of course, though, that eventually caught the attention of said man – much to Hermione's embarassment, mind you, for the Doctor arched an inquiring eyebrow towards both of them. Grinning back, the stranger took it as an invitation and was about to set off towards the teachers, yet not without winking at her first.

"Yo, Doc," he greeted the Doctor and grinned at Snape, "Hi there, sunshine."

...what?

Was it just her or had the temperature in the hallway just dropped by several degrees. Still standing in the hallway, rooted to the spot by the sheer awkwardness of the situation, Hermione could not believe what she was hearing. The death glare gracing the potion master's face, however, confirmed that, yes, Jack Harkness had just dared teasing Severus Snape about his gloomy attitude.

Rather than Snape, though, it was the Doctor who overcame his speechlessness first. "Seriously, Jack?" he asked in utter disbelief, "Seriously?"

Jack blinked back at him. "What?" he asked innocently before addressing the still seething Snape once again, "I just wanted to say, he was right, you know."

Inhaling deeply, Snape forced himself to calm down enough to hiss a reply in an only moderately venomous voice, "About what?"

"About the bat people on Kelt," Jack grinned and went on as if he had not just personally insulted the possibly scariest person within the walls of Hogwarts, "Though they do get really angry once you actually call them bats."

Another brief silence followed and she figured this was a good moment for a hopefully silent retreat.

Honestly, she did not quite know what to make of what she had just found out. She had gained more questions than answers, yet at least another apparent contradiction in the Doctor's story that had been floating around her mind far longer had suddenly answered itself.

If he had really come from outer space, how could he be the only one?

In the end, though, the answer was as simple as that: the Doctor fit in perfectly within the human community – well, not perfectly, but at least well enough. For some reason, though, she had not expected others to, but that was just the point.

Much like the Doctor, much like so many magical creatures, there might be a large amount of alien life forms residing amongst humans. And even though he looked human enough... the strange man she had just met might as well be one of them.


Jack, November 6th, 18:00

As much as he had enjoyed a brief glimpse at the less bloodthirsty side to Britain's magical community, and maybe even more intriguingly, the closest place the Doctor had to a home, he did prefer dealing with the matters at hand before anything else.

In order to adequately deal with the culprits that had abducted them in the first place, but mostly because of the Doctor's insistence on finding the truth, they had gathered a proud amount of wizard...soldiers ("An Auror? Isn't that some kind of pokemon?") to accompany them back to the scene of the crime.

Entering yet another abandoned room, he could not help kicking a table – and flinched away in pain. That had probably broken his pinky toe yet again, but well, it was not as if that would really matter.

Jack had expected a battle and had gotten a haunted house.

Once they had realized they had lost the chase, their captors had taken to their heels as well. He really couldn't blame them for that, though, for he would have done so in their stead, too.

As he noted the Doctor crouching next to him in order to inspect something on the floor, he smiled a little. He should probably thank those attackers, really. If it weren't for them, he would never have met his old friend here.

And, well, if it weren't for their escape, he would not share a rare quiet moment alone with the time lord just then.

"So how are the memories?" he asked conversationally. He knew he would not get all that much information, but he had to give it a try, didn't he?

"They will return eventually," the Doctor replied and looked up at him with a light frown, "but more importantly, I've got a mission for you." Just as predicted, the time lord was changing the subject far too quickly, but the word mission caught Jack's attention nonetheless. "As long as it involves the two of us and a lot of alcohol, I'm in," he grinned.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, but if a hint of a smile was any indication, he seemed to appreciate the effort at least somewhat. "I'm sure you have some way to contact both UNIT and Torchwood, right? I need you to check with them what they already found on these pseudo-wizards," he stated, "I'm pretty sure they have been here for quite a while, but I haven't even discovered their motive yet."

With a frown, Jack tilted his head. Did the Doctor...know about his allegiance to Torchwood? He might just be imagining things, though. After all, it was a reasonable request to make at this point. "So what do you intend to do in the meantime?" he drawled sceptically.

The Doctor's gaze wandered off. "I need to do some…" he spoke and suddenly trailed off, lost in thought. "…redefining," the time lord finished at last.

It nearly broke Jack's heart to see his usually determined friend hesitate like that. With a sigh, the immortal stood straight to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Then you need me right here, Doctor," he announced softly, "Twenty years, and you still haven't told these people all that much about yourself, have you?"

The Doctor looked up at him with a deep frown on his face, "What did you expect?"

With a sigh, Jack leant against the doorframe. "I don't know," he admitted with a shrug, "I haven't seen you running for any other reason than saving the world, but this morning, well, you were actually running towards the classroom." He smiled a little. "I guess it's just so strange seeing you like that, all settled down on the slow path."

The Doctor chuckled lightly, but he did not object. "I could tell you the same," he replied with a tiny smile of his own. Maybe, just maybe, those twenty years had really taught him to enjoy living a normal life? Or well, a life as normal as it could get being an almighty time lord.

Jack opened his mouth to reply when he something else registered in his mind. "Does that mean..." he enquired tonelessly, "that you do remember me after all?"

"My mind was a blur when I woke up here," the Doctor explained and motioned towards the hallway, "but it's clearing up at last – at least enough to remember meeting a strange con man in World War II." He grinned weakly, and Jack's heart suddenly felt so much lighter.

So this really was the man he had been looking for, wasn't it? The right Doctor, with a different face but the right memories...once they were complete, that is. He remembered Jack and their travels, and maybe even things he himself had not yet experienced.

When awaking a mere day ago after whatever torture he had gone through, and obviously even before he had recalled Jack's name, the Doctor had already diagnosed the source for Jack's immortality. It was something he himself had not figured out in a hundred years, and it would have probably taken him another millennium to do so on his own. The Doctor, however, had seen it.

And maybe, just maybe, he had already done so on that fateful day on Satellite Five. Just as Jack's heart had felt lighter a moment ago, it cramped horribly at that memory. "I woke up from death to find you gone," he pointed out flatly.

Unsurprisingly, the Doctor was prepared for this topic to come up. "You're better off without me, Jack," the time lord replied simply.

"I died for you, Doctor," the immortal stated bitterly, "and I would die for you again."

A heavy silence fell as their eyes locked once more. "Jack…" the Doctor whispered, "That's exactly what I am afraid of."


Doctor, November 7th 1994, 11:00

As he walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall, the Doctor pondered Jack's words once again. Out of anybody he had seen for two decades, Jack was the one only one who could actually compare the time lord's current behaviour to his former lifestyle.

But even though his friend had phrased it in those words, the Doctor had not really settled down per say, had he? He had not had a choice to begin with...but now, things were different. He could technically leave, but he still had a task to finish, so this was really not related to him actually enjoying such a...regular life, was it?

A deep frown crept onto his face as he suddenly heard noises from exactly where he was headed. Only a moment later, a student came running in direction, waving his arms wildly as he did so. "Doctor, Peeves has gone nuts!" Seamus called in panic, "He's stolen our homework and turned it into deadly paper planes!" The Doctor did not hear more of what the boy had to say, for the Gryffindor had already vanished around the corner in his mad dash.

The time lord merely had the time to arch an eyebrow in bewilderment before the source of the student's escape came shooting in his direction. He barely managed dodging the mini missiles, let alone stop them.

Blinking after them, he wondered whether he should get Peeves to actually stop pestering the poor boy when he suddenly, and quite guiltily, realized that he actually enjoyed all those bizarre little events scattered throughout the everyday life at Hogwarts.

As Peeves finally arrived in the corridor, laughing hysterically, the Doctor could not help grinning at his realization.

Maybe he had chosen to stay because of the adventure.

But maybe he had chosen to pursue this particular adventure because he wanted to stay.

As a matter of fact, he actually liked the Wizarding World in a very special way, with all its miracles, curious people and the strange feeling of belonging somewhere. Objectively spoken, that was somewhat uncharacteristic of him. But he had to wonder...was that such a bad thing?


Cornelius Fudge, November 13th, 1994

"So basically," he repeated slowly, arching a doubtful eyebrow at his visitor, "you are telling me that the Death Eaters we have been hunting are not even human?"

Across his desk, one Bartemius Crouch Junior was tilting his head. "Not all of them anyway," he offered in quite an offhanded manner.

Sighing deeply, Cornelius shuffled the files on his desk to review the latest developments for what felt like the thousandth time. The recent series of Death Eater attacks on muggles and wizards alike had begun long before Crouch had even resurfaced to the public – or, as lore had it, before he had miraculously recovered from an even more suspicious illness. But that time gap did by no means imply that Crouch might not be involved in some less than innocent ways.

As Britain's Minister of Magic, Cornelius had come across all kinds of people telling all kinds of tales. He did not claim to be perfect, but his many of years of experience had taught him how to differentiate between lies and truth well enough. He knew the story Crouch had sold to the Daily Prophet was a cover-up at the very most, but at the same time he had ended up convincing himself that it was as close to the truth as it could get.

More accurately, Dumbledore and Bartemius Crouch Senior had convinced him. Rather than directly assuring him of the truthfulness of Crouch Junior's story, though, they had vouched for his value and loyalty to the right cause.

Intriguingly, they had also mentioned more than once that they could not afford antagonizing him. Now Cornelius was not particularly afraid of Crouch Junior. Rather, it was Dumbledore he did not dare antagonizing.

Altogether, Cornelius could not even object to their reasoning. He had known the boy almost his entire life, and if anything, he had never quite expected him to join Voldemort of all wizards. On the contrary, he had hoped to and at least temporarily managed getting him to join their fight. Even now he vividly remembered father and son clashing on more than one occasion on their respective ideas of righteousness, and it had always been the younger man to speak for the objectively more moral option. But that did not mean his father had been wrong. Sometimes, one could only fight fire with fire. In their battle against the Dark Lord, the Ministry's and as such Crouch Senior's ideas of righteousness had been reduced to whatever it took to win the war.

When he had left Hogwarts and joined the Ministry for a short span of time, Crouch Junior, too, had been finally confronted with their bitter reality. And yet, his conviction had never changed much. He had kept talking of proper trials, of how the wrong kind of pressure would only create a false sense of truth, yet he had let go of the matter eventually due to his father's insistence. Instead, he had utilized his own energy where it was both needed and appreciated – in strengthening their defences. Asides from teaching even aurors a thing or two, he had come up with ingenious plans to keep potential victims safe in spite of everything.

Frankly, during those few months back in 1973, Cornelius had been convinced Bartemius Crouch Junior, with all his energy, charisma and brilliance, would become one of the most renowned and influential wizards of their time.

And then the boy had been sent off to Azkaban by his own father.

Cornelius and his wife had been on good terms with the entire Crouch family. Watching their fate had been a tragedy, more so since it suddenly became strikingly obvious that much of Crouch Junior's great accomplishments within the Ministry had only been enabled due to his knowledge of the Dark Lord's plans.

That didn't change the fact the boy had been doing his best to save as many people as possible, though.

If anything, they should have kept using him as a spy instead of imprisoning him.

Bartemius Crouch Junior had never meant them any harm, Cornelius understood that much. He had been valuable to them in the past, and he hoped he would do so again. And yet, as he was sitting in front of an older, blemished and yet smiling version of the boy, he once again realized that he did not quite understand him.

"I don't even expect you to believe me," Crouch went on at last and heaved a soft sigh, "but those fighting for you should at least be informed that they might not be dealing with what they are expecting."

Cornelius arched an eyebrow. "Assuming I did believe that...mechanic false humans from...outer space had joined those rampant Death Eaters," he summarized carefully, stumbling across the words more than once before meeting his visitor's gaze again, "What would you be advising me to do?"

Crouch's smile widened slightly, "In that case, I would ask you to help catching them so we can find out what they are really planning."

Frowning, Cornelius lowered his gaze onto the pages in front of him. "According to your written statement," he summarized slowly, "you were abducted because of your connection to Him-who-must-not-be-named. It is safe to assume, then, that they are looking for him, correct?"

At that, Crouch tilted his head. "But what for?" he mused in slight confusion, "I mean, a civilization that developed that kind of artificial life doesn't exactly need a powerful wizard to, say, blow up another planet."

Cornelius' eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"Then again," Crouch rambled on, "Maybe they are at war and desperately need a weapon that catches their adversaries by surprise." He wrinkled his nose. "But that doesn't explain how they even found out about the existence of magic on this planet to begin with. After all, this is one of Earth's best-kept secrets I've come across so far."

Inhaling deeply, Cornelius kept watching the wizard he had known so long...without knowing him at all. He had seen the boy grow up, he had witnessed some of his best and worst moments. In spite of everything, he had not stopped believing in Crouch's basically friendly nature. When he had returned from the dead, the wizard had been given the benefit of the doubt due to his connections, but also thanks to his unmistakable genius.

Yet the problem with geniuses was, and had always been, the fact that they always tended to be a bit crazy as well.

Crazy enough to believe in alien life, for example.

"You do understand I am reluctant to acknowledge your speculations as...likely," Cornelius drawled at last. "Any sufficiently capable wizard can create and maintain a certain number of servants," he explained when Crouch finally met his eyes, "Whoever caught and chased you must have known that you like to think...outside the box."

Needless to say, Crouch's face fell. "Frankly, I am surprised you even bothered listening this far," he replied with a shrug, "But even if these beings have simply been conjured, I doubt their master bothers creating them according to each of his victims' respective preferences. So if your forces happen to encounter a Death Eater immune to standard battle spells, they might want to try charging them with electricity." With an audible sigh and a neutral expression, Crouch got up at last, "Have a good day, Minister."

As he watched the wizard's back as he retreated from his office, Cornelius could not help replying with a sigh of his own. It would not hurt to relay that information, but he doubted it would be of much value.

Nonetheless, his evaluation from so long ago still stood.

Bartemius Crouch Junior would have been a great asset to the Ministry's forces – if only he had never strayed from the right path in the first place. If only his father, He-who-must-not-be-named and Azkaban had left his sanity intact.


Doctor, December 25th 1994, 20:00

"It was definitely worth a detention," Minerva was telling them about a particularly interesting lesson last week, "but then again, I could not help noticing the genius behind it." She smiled softly at the memory. Even though the Doctor had not really noticed whom she was talking about, he did notice how she really liked doing her job.

"So you did not even take any house points in spite of him demolishing your entire classroom?" Severus enquired in slight disapproval.

Listening to his colleagues' chatter without paying much attention, the Doctor rested his chin on his palm and sighed. The music was playing rather loudly and everybody was having a good time on this snowy Christmas, but for some reason, he failed to get into the mood for celebrations.

It had been six weeks since he had been attacked. It had been five weeks since he had, once again, been forced to give up his search for their current enemies. What he assumed to be half of the Order of the Phoenix had accompanied him to the mansion in Sheffield that had started his latest nightmare, but much like the last time he had been there, all the way back in 1973, nothing was left of the Death Eaters that had resided there mere hours prior.

Once again, he was forced to wait it out – or had he chosen to? – but at least this time, he had made the necessary preparations. They would not get away from him another time – but they would have to show themselves once more for his plan to work out.

With a soft sigh, he glanced towards the students enjoying themselves on the dance floor. At the very least, having to wait so long had given him enough time to recover from whatever mental blow had hit him. With lots of concentration and occasional corrections from colleagues, friends and even students, he had eventually gathered what he considered a sufficiently consistent set of memories. Every once in a while, something new popped up – and hopefully, he would finally regain the last pieces of the puzzle once he would get to talk to his attackers face to face.

"As we are already on the topic of troublemakers," he heard Minerva speaking, "Some students appear to be wandering the halls suspiciously often lately."

"So you noticed, too?" Sybill replied slowly. Her thoughtful eyes met the Doctor's at last, shaking him out of his reverie.

"Ah, yes," he replied, "I told them to check the castle for possible security breaches."

While Sybill accepted his words with an absent-minded nod, Severus arched an eyebrow and Minerva looked outright scandalized. "Why would you do that?" she demanded, "Assuming someone had managed infiltrating Hogwarts, which is highly unlikely, making the students find out is extremely dangerous!"

Slightly amused, the Doctor tilted his head. "By now, there's only some harmless traps by the Weasleys or Peeves left, but it's really a good exercise for the students," he explained matter-of-factly, "Honestly, it might one day come in handy if they already know what to look out for, considering I did find some actual wiretap back in September."

Minerva's eyes widened in shock. The Doctor was surprised she had not been informed of this, yet Severus was quick to assure her. "One of the fireplaces has been conflicted by Sirius Black," he informed her quietly, "The issue itself has been taken care of swiftly, yet we…failed to trace Black himself."

Taking in the information, she eventually accepted it with a nod. The Doctor arched an eyebrow. He had been surprised nobody had been that bothered by Sirius Black potentially infiltrating the school, and the transfiguration teacher's reaction only amplified his suspicion. Considering how close Sirius and the Potters had been, he had always been confused by the dramatic turn their friendship had allegedly taken. He had suspected the man had been framed on false charges, yet back then the Doctor had not even managed getting his own hide out of trouble. Now, however, well…he did not have enough information, but in assuming at least Dumbledore knew the truth, he guessed Sirius was not as guilty as everyone believed him to be.

Not that it was his business, of course…but he did not mind meddling a bit. After all, hadn't Severus mentioned the magical word of trust the other day?

"I sure wonder what Black expected to gain from spying on students," he mused, "It had to be quite important for him to risk exposure like that. If somebody had thought of inverting the polarities, he might have been done for."

Minerva arched an eyebrow, "Inverting the polarities?"

"The essence of spying magic is really just a link connecting two parties within a dimension most humans can't perceive," the Doctor explained, "The thing is, within that dimension you can move in either direction."

While she was listening attentively, Minerva looked slightly troubled in following his explanation. But then again, he was surprised she even tried – maybe Dumbledore's faith in him had ultimately convinced her, too. "If we cannot even perceive that…dimension," she drawled at last, "how can we trace anything within it?" Frankly, she was surprising him. "That's a very good question, actually," the Doctor grinned, "and as always, it can be answered with magic. It's like, say, transfiguring a cup in the dark – you don't need to perceive anything to cast a spell affecting it. There's lots of ways to make use of the magical residuals, most of them just haven't been thought of yet."

Leaning back, Minerva took a moment to ponder his words.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had found another topic to occupy himself with. "As we're already at it," he went on and looked at Severus due to an old habit of bothering him with such questions first, "How come wizards can't perceive magical residuals anyway? I mean, it only takes a minor genetic mutation, so there's got to be at least some who do, right?"

A long moment of awkward silence followed his words until it was, at last, Sybill to offer an explanation. "Perhaps it is the Second Sight you are speaking of?" she mused, "Many wizards possess it, yet only very few ever learnt to see."

Naturally, the Doctor's attention was caught in an instant. "So you're saying you can recognize it, Sybill?" he asked in sudden enthusiasm, pulled the wand out of his pocket and magically produced a small breeze that should be invisible to the human eye but looked like a pretty pinkish swirl to his eyes. "What do you perceive?"

Squinting, she scanned the vicinity of the Doctor's wand for a while with everybody's eyes on her. Finally, though, she averted her gaze with a sigh. "I fear I do not see anything out of the ordinary," she offered subduedly, "I do, however, perceive a strange ticking noise."

Blinking, Minerva joined the conversation again. Yet rather than phrasing a snide remark, she simply asked, "Is that music?"

Slowly but surely, everybody noticed some kind of new tune underneath the Christmas songs.

It was only when he recognized The Eye of the Tiger playing, though, that the Doctor finally found the music's origin. "Oh sorry!" he exclaimed and fished a barely used mobile phone out of the depths of his pockets.

"You are carrying muggle technology?" Minerva exclaimed in shock, "At Hogwarts!"

Getting up, the Doctor sent her an apologetic smile. "Approved by Dumbledore and absolutely handy!" he commented before distancing himself a bit to accept the call. "Jack, tell me the good news," he spoke into the receiver.

For a moment, he heard nothing but a soft chuckle. "Hey, Doc," the immortal reported on the other end, "We've, err, caught you a nice Christmas present." Even though he could not actually see him, the Doctor knew Jack to be grinning.

And, well, so was he as he. The so called present could only be one thing - and with a living, or functional, specimen in Jack's custody, he would get his answers to Earth's latest mysterious visitors at long last. He had been waiting for that opportunity far too long, anyway.

As he whirled back towards the teachers' table, he did not particularly mind his grin had grown wide enough to look either dumb or scary. Nonetheless, Severus had the grace to point it out, "I take it you succeeded in..." He arched an eyebrow. "...stealing a child's lollipop?"

The Doctor simply kept grinning. "Absolutely," he announced brilliantly as he pocketed the phone again, "Anyone in for an adventure?"

Chapter 2.4 - End


Notes: Wow, so even editing took a while. I would have like for Fudge to feel less understanding, but somehow it ended up like this, and since I promised to upload this part still in 2013, it'll have to suffice.

So: have a great new year, everyone!