* Pufflz! So, I've been getting lazy with my writing, and that's my only excuse for posting the chapter a couple days late. Whoops. Anyway, I have promised myself to never go on hiatus, because whenever I see a fanfic that I love, but it's been discontinued... *tears* Anyway, I really wanted to just thank all those who have followed this story, and those who are just tuning in every couple of days and reading without an account. As long as you like it, I'm happy. Vielen Danke!

Hours after clara's outburst, Harry, to Ron and Hermione's displeasure, decided to ask Hagrid about Sirius Black. John really didn't care to join, so he just mulled around reading, or thinking about everything that didn't make sense.

When he meant by this though, was that dream he had on keeping clara safe. John had tried so hard to keep Clara from trouble, but everything he did just made things worse. Though, if it had been John under the same situation, he probably wouldn't have told anybody either. Both of their stubbornness was going to cost them. A part of him wondered whether he would've gotten somewhere had he not interfered in that manner. But, john firmly believed that what he did was right.

Sighing, John found himself staring into the blank of space, wondering about all the strange things he had seen in his head. Apparently, that was a bad idea.

With great annoyance, John found himself sprawled on the ground in a forest. He quickly noticed the blue box towering over him. Two men, one John had seen before, seemed to be having a forced conversation. John slowly crept over to hear better.

A man in a green suit, and bow in hand asked, "So, is it true, Doctor?"

The man who had to be this 'Doctor' asked, "Is what true?"

"That in the future I am forgotten as a real man. I am but a legend."

The Doctor winced. "I'm afraid it is".

The man in the green suit paused for a second. "Hmm… Good. History is a burden. Stories can make us fly."

"I'm still having a little trouble believing yours, I'm afraid."

The green-suited man laughed. "Is it so hard to credit? That a man born into wealth and privilege should find the plight of the oppressed and weak too much to bear… until one night he is moved to steal a TARDIS? Fly among the stars, fighting the good fight? Clara told me your stories."

At the name of Clara John winced. Surely this wasn't about his Clara. No, this was just a coincidence. Of course, John had convinced himself that there was no such thing as coincidences.

The Doctor scowled. "She should not have told you any of that."

The other man chuckled. "Well, once the story started, she could hardly stop herself. You are her hero, I think."

"I'm not a hero," the Doctor said, scoffing.

Well neither am I. But if we both keep pretending to be — ha ha — perhaps others will be heroes in our name. Perhaps we will both be stories. And may those stories never end. [they shake hands] Goodbye, Doctor, Time Lord of Gallifrey."

At that moment, John felt an incredible weight suddenly bestowed on his chest. He felt like he couldn't breathe… Gallifrey. Where had he heard that before? And Time Lord… There was just too much information to process.

"Goodbye, Robin Hood, Earl of Loxley," the Doctor sighed.

Robin hood? What? He wasn't, he couldn't be real!

"And remember, Doctor… I'm just as real as you are."

John heaved a breath. He was lying on the couch, and he knew he had fallen asleep. But it was funny, John never seemed to sleep anymore. He would sort of take cat-naps whenever he got bored, and they would only last minutes. Strange, because John had never given much thought to that fact.

It was like john was missing something incredibly obvious. There was something screaming to get attention, but he was so confused. But now, John knew what that blue box was called. Fake Robin Hood, (John refused to believe that he was real) had mentioned something about a stolen TARDIS. There was a gut feeling that whatever a TARDIS was, was going be very important.

John jumped out of the couch, and ran to the library. He now knew what he was looking for.

Desperately, he asked Madam Pince, "Do you anything about something called a TARDIS?"

Madam Pince frowned. "Excuse me? I haven't heard of anything-"

John "Oh, well if you could search it up on Google that would be great. I think you spell it as 'T-A-R-"

"It is winter break, please take advantage of it and stop asking me such nonsense!" And with that, John was booted out of the library. Fantastic. Though, John did wonder what this 'Google' thing was that he mentioned.

Heaving a sigh, John trudged back to the common room, defeated.

The next day, John found himself extra grumpy. Perhaps it was all the drama that occurred yesterday, or the "vision" he had seen. Honestly, he needed to stop having those. They were giving John headaches.

Plus, Christmas was rolling around, and the school was a red-gold mess. It was actually kind of funny to see the school dressed in Gryffindor colors. It brought a grimace to John's face. Besides the happy spirits, Clara had still not apologized to John. But, why not? He hadn't done anything wrong, he had simply tried to help her!

To put even more of a damper on John's mood, the Idiotic Trio was fussing about Hagrid and Buckbeak. Apparently, Hagrid's hippogriff, Buckbeak was probably going to be executed.

When John walked in on the three reading a heap of books on animal trials and such, he scoffed.

"Do you really think that this is going to work?" John asked incredulously. "The animal assaulted a student!"

Hermione glared at him. "It's a matter of animal rights. Hagrid taught Malfoy how to get Buckbeak's respect, and instead the prat got himself injured."

"I just don't think that that some petty little research with these books will suffice," John clarified.

Hermione was seething. "You have a problem with books?"

John frowned. "No, I don't. Books are the greatest weapons out there, and they really help when fighting werewolves!"

Hermione gave a nervous glance. "You too?"

John quirked an eyebrow in confusion, earning him an eye-roll.

And so, on Christmas Day, John found himself eating at lunch in the Great Hall by himself. Clara and Ginny were laughing together, and the Three Idiots were arguing amongst themselves. Jinn was even able to hear some of the professors speaking.

Professor Trelawney had waltzed into the Great Hall, in a blinding, sequin infested, dress. John gagged at its sight. The professor was swiftly invited to sit down by Dumbledore.

"Let me draw you up a chair-" Dumbledore offered.

To this, Trelawney shrieked. "I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

From far down the table, john heard Clara choke. Ginger began furiously pounding in her back, and when Clara was alright, she gave a thumbs-up.

They had a sort of conversation, where all of a sudden, Clara's face contorted into something ghastly, like crying with makeup on.

For some reason, her voice seemed to just carry over to John's ears. Or maybe, he just read her lips in her voice.

"Every Christmas, is last Christmas."