Crashing into a seedy looking bar, 'pub', whatever, covered in soot is not the way I wanted to be introduced into the Wizarding World. But long experience with stumbling out of semi-crashing spacecraft let me roll to my feet easily enough, eyes roaming to take in everything. No one was staring, probably used to people popping randomly out of the fireplace. McGonagall was looking at me strangely,

"Do you think you were involved with sports of some sort?"

Ah, popped up a little too easily then. I shrugged,

"I run. A lot. I remember that. I think mostly I was running from things…"

The understanding look should have set off red flags, but the fact is that this is a woman who rides feral writing desks into battle.

She pushed her way easily through the small crowd, nodding occasionally to those that greeted her. A few taps to the brick and the doorway opened. I stared at it with suitable awe, trying my best to ignore the smell from the garbage bins. They should really rethink the location for the entrance to their secret society.

She swept through the entrance, not giving me much time to stop and stare, pushing past several stores, including one filled with books that I wanted to stop and wander through. We walked straight to the largest building in the Alley, McGonagall explaining all the way about goblins, banks, and the money use. I couldn't help but grin as we entered the bank, eyes wandering over the goblins, taking in non-human creatures with ease. I stopped in front of the poem, grinning once again. The Doctor would have been bouncing by now, Scottish and angry or not.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So if you seek beneath our floors,

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

I was probably drawing attention from grinning like an idiot, but that was never a problem for us. The Doctor used to do it often enough. It was probably best for everyone to assume I'm off my rocker from the beginning, makes for less surprises later. McGonagall marched us right up to a goblin that wasn't busy with a customer, addressing him directly in her no nonsense manner.

"I'm here to make a withdrawal from a Ministry account."

The goblin looked up from his work, expression slightly annoyed if anything.

"Do you have a key?"

He didn't look like he expected an affirmative, going back to his work.

McGonagall's expression didn't change, she simply drew a letter from what seemed like nowhere. The goblin took his sweet time opening it, as well as reading it. I amused myself by 'people watching'. The bank was semi-busy, with people bustling around, speaking amongst themselves. One rather unremarkable man was arguing with a goblin that was having none of it. I was watching the drama play out, wondering what method they would use to toss him out on his ass when McGonagall touched my shoulder lightly.

"Are you alright dear?"

I looked up at her, noticing out goblin had run off somewhere while I was distracted. I nodded, smile not going anywhere.

"Fine. There's just so much to see…"

The Professor explained many of the things happening around us, including some of the things people were wearing while we were waiting for the goblin to return. It took nearly a half hour, we were well into the day and I was wondering if the people at the hospital had fed me some sort of potion in place of food, because I wasn't particularly hungry, even after most of the day had passed. He tossed a medium sized bag down on the counter, shoving a piece of parchment towards McGonagall.

"The exact amount specified from the Ministry, sign here for it."

She was handed a plain quill, which she used to sign. The paper did nothing dramatic, it was simply snatched up and tucked in between the pages of the giant book the goblin had been writing in when we approached. McGonagall took the bag, nodding in thanks before ushering me away. The goblin's' eyes met mine and I smiled, nodding as well. There was no visible reaction, but I wasn't expecting one.

Exiting the bank we were faced with a large group of people clamoring to enter, McGonagall grabbed my wrist, pulling me to the side with her while we waited for the mob to pass. I watched them go by, glancing up at the clocktower to check the time. A little after five. Group of people getting off work then, most likely. I was pulled through the streets to Madame Malkin's first. I watched a magical tape measure go to work while Mcgonagall stood beside me.

"I was informed that you have no garments with you but what you wore on arrival into the country. Being that it's muggle clothing, I was informed I should acquire wizarding robes for you. Only the simple, traditional black, I'm afraid, but that should be all you'll need for now in any case."

Magic meant that I had three copies of the exact same fitted wizarding outfit within the next twenty minutes. Leaving the shop the Professor kept up a running commentary on the various shops and what we were going to get.

"You shouldn't need anything from the apothecary, Severus shall have anything you need for basic lessons. The pet shop as well, pets are not the priority at the moment. You may owl order anything you need from Flourish and Blotts, but at the moment I believe everything you need can be found in the library at Hogwarts."

Everything was along the same vein until we reached a dusty old shop that looked familiar.

Ollivanders.

Professor McGonagall held the door open for me, and we both entered into dusty silence.

"I'm told you arrived without your wand. It was assumed that it was lost in transit, which resulted in your accident. A wand is one of the most important things a witch can own. I expect you take better care of this one."

I nodded earnestly before looking around the shop, waiting for the creepy man to pop up. And he did.

"Minerva, how nice to see you again. Taking care of your wand, or are you here for a replacement?"

McGonagall shook her head, smiling.

"No such thing, of course. Miss Swift here was met with an unfortunate accident that took her wand from her. We're simply here for a replacement."

Ollivander turned his gaze to me, looking me over.

"I don't recognize you child. You didn't get your first wand from me, did you?"

"No, sir." Not yet.

He nodded his head rapidly,

"Yes, yes, American then, that explains it."

Is it really that obvious?

He walked around me, holding a tape measure.

"What was the core for your first wand then?"

Before I could respond McGonagall cut in.

"We were hoping to start over from scratch, if you don't mind."

He raised an eyebrow at her, obviously not convinced. But he didn't comment, instead heading to the back room and coming back with a plain black box. Give this a try then. Unicorn hair, 11 and ¾ inches, holly."

It didn't like me. Neither did the oak and dragon heartstring wand, nor the holly and phoenix feather. Finally, I found one that let out sparks, getting curiously warm in my hand. It was light colored, a sort of deep beige, and was mostly smooth and straight, with slight ridges in the handle area. It was hard for me to believe that I was the owner of a magical wand, that a tool for magical power had chosen me. I tried to ignore the symbolism behind that it was the thirteenth. Same as my last Doctor.

Ollivander rang it up for us,

"Interesting combination, that. Hazel, 10, inches, hard and unyielding, phoenix feather. This is the third phoenix feather wand in as many years. Most unusual. Usually those types are picky, spacing out wands sold with their cores with decades in between."

I picked up that little tidbit of knowledge like I do most tidbit, filing it away in the Bermuda Triangle of my mind where it would pop up to the surface sometime randomly in the future. Or not at all. Getting out of the Alley was simple enough, with me clutching the box with my wand in it as if it might disappear. McGonagall was watching me do so in amusement, but not bothering to admonish me on it. We entered the Leaky Cauldron through the back, with McGonagall taking a moment to chat with the owner, Tom, while I 'people watched' once again.

Traveling with the Doctor left an impact on my thought process, I watched how people moved, interacted, dressed, spoke. Something struck me as strange, that I couldn't put a finger on. The entire time in the alley I was unable to figure out exactly what was wrong with the picture I was given. People were running around, talking, going about their business. Perhaps I was just paranoid, after visiting mostly places that had something dark and seedy going on underneath the gilded first glance. I was used to there being corruption, so I actively expected it everywhere.

When McGonagall was done chatting she lead me over to the fireplace.

"We shall be arriving through my office, where I will show you to what shall be your quarters for the duration of your stay. Afterwards I shall escort you to the Staff Room, where whoever is left in Hogwarts shall be eating this evening where you shall be introduced to the Headmaster and your tutors."

I wasn't given a chance to respond before we were both tumbling through the fireplace into a vaguely familiar office. It had been in one of the movies, I think. Very cosy, Gryffindor colors everywhere. We weren't in the office for long, however. The moment I was up on my feet once again she was opening the door, leading me out into a chilly hallway. I was in slight shock, I was at Hogwarts. I was at Hogwarts. HOGWARTS.

I was lead to my room in a daze, there was a normal door, made of wood, with a lock on the inside. McGonagall gave me the key for it so I could get back inside, but mentioned that a simple unlocking charm would make it useless anyway. Well, it's not like there was anyone around to steal my stuff. And it's not like I had much to steal. My laptop was useless to everyone in this time period. And I couldn't turn it on at the moment anyway, not until I got good enough with magic to make sure that the aura and junk around Hogwarts didn't fuck with it too much.

As it was, the Doctors 'adjustments' probably kept it protected while it was inactive. My room was actually three rooms, a bathroom, main room, and a bedroom in the back. All were filled with simply, sturdy furniture made of dark sturdy wood and decked in rich red colors. I was being subtly turned over to the Gryffindor way, then. I placed my things on top of the desk, ducking into the bathroom to change like McGonagall requested. I folded my 'muggle clothes', gently, donning the 'robes'. They were swishy and only slightly less uncomfortable than I had at first assumed. There was a rather nice inside pocket on the front of the robe/jacket/thing that kept my wand close to my heart and within reach. Not like that it was any use to me at the moment, I knew the spell sin theory, but had never cast one in my life. My magic was worse than useless at the moment.

I took my hair down, brushing it out with the brush that had come in the little bag of grooming utensils we'd gotten in Diagon Alley. McGonagall led me to the Staff Room, pointing out which classrooms were what, which hallway lead where, and offering several facts about the many moving, talking paintings that we passed. I watched them with interest, grinning and nodding when I was acknowledged by any of them. McGonagall paused in front of the heavy wooden door we were headed towards, looking me in the eye, expression unreadable.

"I understand that you have little to no memory of your life involving magic, I would like you to keep in mind that there are all kinds in the Wizarding world, and that appearances are not everything."

I nodded, smiling, thinking of the many fierce looking races that had been peaceful and filled with artistic genius.

"Yeah, 'don't judge a book by it's cover' and all that."

She nodded sharply,

"Indeed."

And then the door was open and conversation washed over us. What followed was a mob of introductions to several people I could identify at first glance, and only two or three whose names still struck a cord. It was obvious that they had already been informed of my 'memory' issue. The older women were cooing in sympathy, which made up most of the staff. Albus Dumbledore was just as daft in person as in he was portrayed in novels and film, and I was careful to stare at his nose, rather than meet his eyes. Wouldn't do for him to take a trip through my mind and find things from beyond his world.

I had plenty of experience with people rifling through my head, and on more than one occasion I had returned the favor because Mr. Pushy need a shove. However until I had a chance to read up on actual Legilimency I wasn't going to risk it. Poppy Pomfrey was the one who fretted over me the most. She spent several minutes while we were waiting for the food just waving her wand over me and tutting.

"Honestly, apparating with someone who had just had a failed apparition. And a head injury!"

I just watched the wand, smiling wryly. It was a familiar sight, someone muttering to himself (or herself, in this case) while waving a glowing stick at me. True, this one didn't make the noise, and the noise was probably the best part.

"I'm fine, really. Besides the whole...magic thing."

She sighed, giving it one last swipe.

"It's just...unimaginable! Magic, gone from your mind!"

I let her rant, nodding in all the right places, slightly nostalgic smile on my face.

One of the teachers I didn't know spoke up, Babbling I think her name was.

"What I don't understand is how magic of all things could be gone, just...gone!"

I shrugged, leaning back slightly to avoid a wand waving healer.

"Perhaps it's like what Bowman said with the dangers of this...apparating. Splinching I think it was. Amino acids in the brain store memories, maybe I just...left them behind."

There was a pause and silence from the corner of the room I was in before McGonagall spoke.

"Well, I should hope it's not that."

I shrugged,

"If I expect the worst then it happens, I'm right and not surprised. If I expect the worst and the best happens, then I am pleasantly surprised."

At this point the food appeared, startling me slightly. It earned a few chuckles all around, and I eyed the orange drink I was given, knowing what it should be but not quite believing it.

"What might this be?"

Sprout, from my right, glanced at it.

"It's pumpkin juice."

I raised my head slowly to her, raising an eyebrow.

"Pumpkin juice. That...has bad idea written all over it."

I avoided the juice, earning a few more laughs, sticking only to the foods I could recognize. This was going to be a frustrating few months of adaptation.

~TimeLordOfPie