AN: The scene in the beginning is a little nod to Hermione putting an extension charm on a shoulder bag instead of a backpack later on, she's gone native by then (Although to be fair that might be just in the films? I don't remember the book in that much detail, it's been a while)

***DNMCY1***

When the train nearly reached the end station, a prefect knocked on their door and told them to change into their uniforms. Donna quickly pulled down her backpack and rummaged through it to find her robes. Hermione looked at her. "Shrinking charm on your trunk?" she asked. Donna nodded. "Good, I'm not the only one then. It's like wizards have never heard of a backpack. What good is getting the option of shrinking your trunk if you're not even going to use it?"

"We haven't heard of it," Hannah supplied. "What does it do?"

"Do? It... holds your stuff, what more do you want it to do? I'll show ya, look," Donna said. She quickly put it on and showed her back to the two girls. "It frees your hands and the weight is distributed evenly, so it's better for your shoulders than carrying it in your hand."

She put it back when the train slowed down, as a voice told them to leave their luggage. When they reached the platform, they looked around to try and see where they should go. Older students surged around them towards rows of carriages which seemed to be drawn by skeletal winged horses. Before she could ask about them, a booming voice called for the first years. The man whom the voice belonged to was taller than he had any right being.

"There seems to be a giant collecting us," she told the others.

A passing older student laughed. "Half-giant, actually," he told her. "Bit of an open secret. That's Hagrid, he's alright."

They followed the bearded man down a slippery path, to which Donna's flats were NOT suited, but the discomfort was quickly forgotten when they rounded a bend and there, on the other side of a lake, sprawled Hogwarts in all her turrety glory. She was magnificent, easily as impressive as some of the planets the Doctor had taken her to.

Hagrid ushered them all into boats. Once everyone was seated, they started gliding along the water without anyone steering. At one point the half-giant warned them to duck, but the opening through which they sailed was by far large enough for the average 11-year-old to pass through. In fact, Donna couldn't even reach the edge when she stretched her arm all the way up, and she wasn't so foolhardy as to stand up. She didn't fancy a dunk in the lake.

The little boats moored, and they followed along a passage cut into the rock. At least there was no running involved. Yet, a little voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like the Doctor said.

They ended up in front of the castle doors, which opened to reveal professor McGonagall, her pointy hat sitting primly on her head and not a hair out of place. She looked very different in her emerald robes, compared to the muggle suit from her visit. Donna thought about waving, but decided against it. There was a time and a place for everything, and this was not it.

The throng of first years followed her into the entrance hall, across it and into a small chamber, where she turned around to face the nervous children.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," the professor started, before explaining how Hogwarts operated on a House system, and how they could earn points for good behaviour – or lose them for misbehaving. Then she left for a moment, to let them smarten up as much as possible. Donna and her new friends took turns judging each other to make sure they were presentable enough to stand in front of the entire school.

Donna heard a nearby messy-haired boy ask his friend how they were sorted, with the answer being 'some sort of test'. Well, that wasn't vague at all, was it?

Hermione started muttering spells she knew. How did she know so many already, without the benefit of a tutor like Archie? That girl must have a phenomenal memory.

She linked her arm with the bushy-haired witch, interrupting the muttering. "Relax, sunshine. They won't ask us to do magic before they've taught us, I don't think." If she said that loud enough that the boy (who was looking green at the thought of a test) could hear her and be a little bit reassured... well, all the better. At least it got Hermione to calm down.

A moment later, they all whirled around at the sound of screams, to be met with the sight of... were those ghosts? Actual, honest-to-god, talking and walking (well, floating) ghosts, who could pass through walls but also interact with the living – as evidenced by their welcoming of the first years. If the Doctor were here, he'd be having a field day – probably sonic the living daylights out of them. She grinned at the thought.

Shortly after, professor McGonagall came back to fetch them. She had them stand in a line, and Donna had to work to swallow a snort that tried to escape. She covered it up with a cough. If all these fantastical happenings gave the whole thing a bit of a surreal feeling, this right here, the line forming in front and behind her, convinced her that she really was back in a school.

The feeling disappeared again when they entered the Great Hall and she gawked at the inside sky, stars dotting the blackness above them. "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside," Hermione told her. "I read about it in Hogwarts, a History."

Donna tore her eyes away from the ceiling and the floating candles to look at the girl.

"Hermione, d'you know how sometimes a film feels almost magical, but then you start seeing the strings and it loses just a bit of its shine? Yeah... don't show me the strings, please."

Professor McGonagall placed a stool in front of them, and Donna narrowed her eyes. She couldn't have done that when she'd left them alone earlier? She called foul! She suspected a set-up, with McGonagall standing just on the other side of the door to hear their reactions to the ghostly appearances.

On the stool, she placed a tattered and frayed wizard's hat – an oddly central place for an accessory. The reason why soon became clear, as a rip opened near the brim, and it... sang a song. Because why the hell not, right?

So apparently the Sorting happened by putting on the ancient and probably lice-ridden piece of headwear, and it decided (somehow) to which House you belonged. The more Donna learned about the wizarding world, the more she was convinced that wizards, if asked why they did the things they did, looked at each other, shrugged and said, "Because Magic."

Hannah was the first to be called, and was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff. Donna, Susan and Hermione clapped enthusiastically along with the yellow table – she and Susan both wanted to go there, they'd said on the train.

Hermione had preferred Gryffindor, 'because she'd heard it was the best'. That girl needed to learn to think for herself, instead of rehashing other people's opinions endlessly, be it from books or hearsay. She was young yet, though. She'd learn soon enough that books were useful tools, but ultimately written by humans and thus not infallible.

Donna herself didn't have a preference, although from what she'd learned so far of the Houses, she was far too direct to go to Slytherin, and not nearly studious – or... academic? Was that the right word? – enough for Ravenclaw. Not that she was unintelligent, far from it, but she had other priorities. Hufflepuff or Gryffindor though... well, that could be a toss-up. Loyalty and hard work were important ("Best temp in Chiswick!") but so was doing the right thing, no matter the cost ("Just someone, please. Not the whole town. Just save someone!").

Susan soon joined her friend, and one by one the first years were divided among four tables. Hermione went to Gryffindor, so she had her wish as well. Neville Longbottom – unfortunate name, that – went to Gryffindor as well. Trevor the Toad must be his then. At least, she hadn't heard any other Nevilles come by.

After Lily Moon had gone to Slytherin, it was Donna's turn. She marched up to the hat and placed it on her head, thinking somewhat ruefully that they never had made it to that planet of hats after all.

"Well, well, well. You are an interesting one," she heard a voice in her mind say. Well, that was different. Not only could it compose bad poetry and sing it to a school, but it could also read the thoughts of whoever put it on.

"That's a violation of privacy, that is! Don't they have laws against this sort of thing? GDPR, maybe? No wait, too early for GDPR, nevermind."

"Don't worry, miss Noble," said the voice, "anything I find out is kept strictly confidential. Not even the Headmaster can make me talk."

"Oh, good. So how's this work then?"

"I look at your personality, and your potential, and based on a combination of the two I formulate which House would best suit you and help you grow. Let's take a look, shall we?

"Well, there's a lot more for me to work with than usual, is there not? So many more years of memories and experiences showing or growing your character. And what's this? There's another set of memories?"

"No. You don't look at those. They're not mine, even if they're in my head. Leave them alone."

"Alright then, Mrs. Temple-Noble. I must say, you know yourself quite well, do you not? Yes, I see that Slytherin and Ravenclaw are out, but the other two... which would you prefer?"

"Oi, I'm not doing your job for you!"

The Hat chuckled. "Hardly, Mrs. McAvoy, but when a student is as evenly matched for two houses as yourself, I do take their choice into consideration."

Donna thought for a moment, but in the end there was really only one choice for her.

A junction, a van. A step out into the road. An indicator changes from right to left.

"Yes, I see. You are right. Good day... DoctorDonna."

She was alone in her head again – relatively speaking – while the Hat announced her as a Gryffindor. She placed it back on the stool and went to join a grinning Hermione.

Shortly after, the professor called for "Potter, Harry!", and the boy she'd noticed earlier came up. A wave of tension travelled through the hall, people whispering and craning their necks to see him.

"Wasn't he the kid you were freaking out about earlier on the train?" she asked Hermione, who nodded. "Scrawny, isn't he? What's the deal with him?"

"When he was one, a dark Wizard tried to murder him. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but the end result was that his parents were dead, he was alive, and the wizard was gone. He's been a celebrity ever since. He's mentioned in several history books, and there's a whole range of children's novels about him."

"Oh, right! I think professor McGonagall said something about that, though I don't think she mentioned him by name."

Time dragged on as the boy sat under the Hat. Finally he, too, came to Gryffindor. After him there were just a couple of kids left to be Sorted. Once everyone was seated, an old, bearded wizard with eye-wateringly bright robes stood up to welcome them to another year.

Donna looked at him skeptically before turning to Hermione. "Alright, so what's with Gandalf there, then?" she asked, at the same time that Harry asked a redhead, "is he a bit mad?"

The redhead nodded. "A brilliant wizard, but quite mad, yes."

"That's the Headmaster, professor Dumbledore," Hermione answered Donna's question. "He defeated Grindelwald in a duel, which eventually led to the end of the second world war, I understand, although these wizarding books hardly even mention Hitler by name."

While they were talking, the table suddenly groaned under the weight of a variety of foods. Donna filled her plate, although she didn't pile it high. The food did not look as if it would disappear any time soon, so she could always get a second helping if she wanted.

At least, she would if Harry Potter's redheaded friend would leave anything for the rest of the table. God, his table manners were atrocious. She hadn't heard the boy's name during the Sorting, as she'd been wondering what House the Doctor might be in. She didn't think Hufflepuff would quite know how to handle his particular brand of chaos, but the other three... a case could be made for all three. There was no doubting his righteousness and bravery, but he had his devious streak and the smarts to go with it.

Not knowing a name had never stopped her before though, and it wasn't going to now.

"Oi, Red! Chew properly before you swallow. Honestly, d'you eat like that where your mother can see you?"

He mouthed 'Red?' with a mouth full of sausage, but it was another redhead – no wait, two of them – that answered.

"He really does," one of them said.

"To our mother's great despair," the other continued.

"Deep down, he's a really good kid..."

"... but he has trouble showing it."

"An uncouth youth..."

"so to speak."

Donna looked back and forth at the rapid-fire exchange. "How many of you are there?"

"Ah, fair lady, that depends entirely on whom you might mean..."

"... when you say 'you'."

"If you mean devilishly handsome..."

"...not to mention funny..."

"... Weasley's, well, we're one of a kind."

"Two of a kind, brother of mine."

(Somewhere in Time and Space, Martha Jones felt a shiver run down her spine.)

"Two of a kind. But, Weasley brothers at Hogwarts,"

"Which, I believe, is what you are asking,"

"That would be 4."

"And Weasley siblings is 7."

"Alright, alright!" Donna interrupted. "You're making me even dizzier than Hermione did. What are your names then, Tweedledum and Tweedledee?"

Hermione laughed, and interestingly enough, so did a black boy who was sitting close-by enough to have overheard her comment. She wondered for a moment exactly how many muggleborns there were.

The twins didn't react to the names, so they at least were wizard-raised.

"I'm Fred," one of them answered her question.

"Or are you?" the other continued.

The first one shrugged. "Well if I'm not, then I'm George."

"Our little brother over there is Ron,"

"Also known as ickle Ronniekins,"

"And perfect prefect Percy is sitting over there," Fred-or-George indicated the young man who had answered Harry's question earlier.

"Bill and Charlie have graduated," George-or-Fred waved a hand dismissively.

"And ickle Ginniekins is starting next year."

"Don't tell her we called her that, though."

"She is scary!" Fred-or-George finished in a stage whisper.

A realisation had been dawning at the quick back-and-forth, and it hit when they were finished. "Oh God, you're the class clowns, aren't you?"

Fred-or-George looked at his brother, then back at Donna. "I don't know what clowns are,"

"But from the way you said that,"

"Yes." they ended in unison.

"You don't know what clowns... what do you wizarding types do for entertainment? Let me guess, the circus is too muggleish? Remind me to take you to one some time, no childhood is complete without at least one visit to a proper travelling circus."

"And the whole sleeping bum after two hours on a hard bench part?" the black boy asked.

Donna waved her hand. "All part of the experience."

When the talk at the table turned to families, Donna kept a bit more quiet. 'Muggleborn' was an easy explanation, but she wasn't quite that, was she. Her current theory involved the regenaration triggering something that allowed her access to magic, but who knew really? She didn't really want to field questions about not having had accidental magic, or why she was living with a guardian rather than her parents. She might eventually reveal the whole 'coming from the future' thing, but not until she really trusted someone. Her knowledge could be dangerous in the wrong hands, even if it was knowledge of the muggle future. For now it was safer locked in her head behind a thick stainless steel cog door much like the one used in the Torchwood hub.

The Doctor had taught her that, although she couldn't for the life of her remember if he'd physically taught her, or if it was a DoctorDonna acquired skill. Point was, if anyone tried to touch that information without her permission, she'd know.

She did look consideringly at Neville of the unfortunate last name, when he explained how his family had nearly killed him several times before he showed his magic. She wondered if that was normal behaviour for these wizarding types. Would they really rather have dead kids than ones without magic? It did explain somewhat the kid's nervous air. If she'd been raised to believe her family's love depended on her having magic, she might be a nervous wreck too.

Mind you, she didn't have much room to talk. Silvia's love had always seemingly depended on one thing or another, but at least she'd had her grampa Wilf and his eternal optimism. And even Silvia had been a bit better after the Doctor had erased her memories, but of course by then she'd been fully grown and not quite so malleable as she'd been as a child.

Then again, her coping mechanism back then had been sass – lots and lots of sass – so she might not even be quite such a nervous wreck. Perhaps she ought to take the kid under her wing, teach him the joys of sarcasm. It might not help, but at least people would be less likely to underestimate him. Or he might not be interested in befriending her – for all she knew he was still at the stage where he thought girls had cooties. Did 11-year-olds still think that? She had no idea, her own first childhood was that long ago, and her children and even grandchildren had long outgrown that stage.

Once the desserts were cleared away, Gandalf – no, wait, Dumbledore – stood up again and gave some announcements, ending with a corridor being forbidden, die a painful death, yadda yadda. Donna leaned back and crossed her arms. She'd travelled through time and space with the Doctor, and she had centuries worth of his memories locked inside her brain. If those things had taught her one thing, it was that anything forbidden... well, it needed investigating, didn't it. She'd just have to decide who to ask with her on that little adventure. She looked at Dumbledore through narrowed eyes. Challenge accepted.

And then a golden ribbon appeared from Dumbledore's wand and wrote a song in the air. Mad or genius – or both – but boy was that one ostentatious wizard.

For form's sake she sang along, more or less to the tune of a song from far in the future, on another planet, one which she heard sometimes in the dusky land between waking and sleeping.

Fred and George were the last to finish, and then finally, finally they were allowed to leave for their respective common rooms. Donna followed the other first years with only a quick wave when she spotted Hannah and Susan. She'd find them later, maybe at breakfast tomorrow. First she needed sleep. Stupid child's body, not used to anything.

Despite how tired she was, she paid close attention to the way they were going. During her time with the Doctor, finding her way back to the TARDIS was a critical skill to have, as it might just save your life taking the correct turn. Knowing the way to the Great Hall might not be quite so urgent, but she needed her breakfast in the morning, dammit!

Their way was interrupted once with the appearance of some walking sticks, which started pelting Percy. They turned out to belong to a poltergeist called Peeves. Man, the Doctor would have a field day in this castle! Ghosts and poltergeists and magic (oh my!). If her theory about her magic was correct, he might even be able to bypass all the muggle-repelling wards the castle was supposed to have, what with those superior Time Lord senses he liked to boast about.

Then Peeves was gone, they'd found the Gryffindor common room, and they were led to their beds, where their trunks (and two backpacks) were already waiting for them.

Donna quickly resized her trunk, changed into her pyjamas and went to brush her teeth, and then fell into the bed next to Hermione. She was asleep before she could mumble good night.