Chapter 11

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Rose shifted down the staircase, biting her lip. The prefects had swept this floor half an hour ago, but there was no telling when the teachers might be about—sneaking out of Gryffindor tower after curfew had been tricky enough (especially since she was rooming with the Head Girl), but getting down to the dungeons without being caught would take careful planning. There was a scuffing noise at the end of the hallway and Rose ducked behind a nearby statue of a rotund witch, holding her breath. Professor Slughorn wandered past, yawning into his sleeve as he glanced around perfunctorily. She waited for his footsteps to die down before hurrying off down towards the dungeons.

The Doctor had told her to meet him there last night, and she couldn't wait. It had become her favorite tradition of theirs, sneaking around the closed-off parts of the castle after everyone else had gone to sleep. There was only a week left until Christmas break, and they were attempting to fit as much exploring in as they could before they each went home. She dashed across the Entrance Hall and slipped down the chill passageway to the dungeons, pulling the long sleeves of her fleece jumper further over her hands.

A hand reached out of the darkness, settling with familiar weight on her shoulder, and she ducked and spun as she leveled her wand at the stranger's nose. The Doctor grinned at her, his dark eyes sparkling in amusement. "Blimey, remind me not to come across you in a dark alley."

She lowered her wand and smacked his shoulder, pursing her lips. "Don't do that to me!"

"What, surprise you?" He sighed dramatically and stuck his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. A leather satchel was slung across his chest. "Well, I guess you should toddle off to bed, then. Shame. I had such marvelous plans for tonight."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

He raised his eyebrows, his eyes dancing mischievously. "Oh, so I am allowed to surprise you?" She gave him a look dripping with scorn, and he snickered and laced his fingers with hers. "All right, fine. Somebody's impatient tonight."

She sighed and followed him along the corridor, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked. He was so skinny, nothing like the familiar solidity of Mickey's frame. She found she liked it, though. It was like his body had been compressed to its most basic form, the outsized personality and galloping intellect somehow condensed into long limbs and a surprising grace.

He glanced down at her as they wandered down corridor after corridor, the flickering light of the torches dancing across her hair. He cleared his throat. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She shook her head a little and blinked, a slight blush on her cheeks. "Oh, nothin'."

He snorted. "You're forgetting I know you, Rose Tyler. Come on, then. What thoughts are buzzing around in that busy little mind of yours?"

She raised an eyebrow. "You're askin' for a smack on that busy little mouth of yours."

"Ah. Yes, I can see how that may not have come out quite right."

"'May not have'?"

"All right, did not." He bumped her shoulder with his arm, rubbing absent-minded circles on the back of her hand. "Sorry."

"'S okay. I'm used to it." She grinned, her tongue playing between her teeth as she watched the Doctor flush and protest. She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder again. "I'm just going to miss this. Exploring with you, I love it."

He smiled softly down at her. "Me too." He grinned and pulled her along, tugging her down a long, dim stone passageway to a small wooden door. "This is it, Rose Tyler. Prepare to be amazed."

"Right, 'cause that doesn't make for unrealistic expectations at all."

He paused as he was pulling at the door, the old wood swollen in the frame. "Unrealistic? Rose Tyler, when have I not exceeded your expectations?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Well, the modern art portraits you showed me last month were a bit naff. I couldn't even understand what they were sayin', never mind why that one bloke's eye was leaking hippos."

The Doctor flushed a little, yanking heavily on the door. "Yes, well. There's a reason Surrealism never really took off in the Wizarding World." With a tooth-rattling shriek the door swung open, sending the Doctor flying against the wall. He impacted with a surprised grunt, and Rose was beside him in moments.

"Oh, god, are you okay?"

"Fine, just peachy." He paused as he sat up, frowning into the air. "Remind me not to say that again."

"Don't say that again."

He rolled his eyes and lurched to his feet, checking his bag carefully before sighing in apparent relief. "Oh, you're so helpful."

Rose grinned mischievously, even thought she was still watching him carefully. "I aim to please."

The Doctor gave her an unflatteringly startled look, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Since when?"

She smacked him on the shoulder. "Shut up. You sure you're all right?"

"Rose, I'm fine. Now come on, I didn't bring you down here to fuss over me."

"Really? 'Cause you've been runnin' into things an awful lot lately." She tossed her hair, grinning at him. "I'm onto your little scheme."

He rested a hand on his chest. "Oh no, whatever shall I do? You've seen through my cunning plan. But really though, come with me." She moved to follow him into the room, still grinning a little, and he stood stock still. "Wait! I've an even better idea. Rose, do you trust me?"

The grin faded. "You know what'll make a girl nervous? Askin' if she trusts you."

"Rose, I'm serious."

She swallowed, watching the light from the torches flicker over his pale, freckled skin and wide brown eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Perfect." He grabbed his tie and pulled it out of his jumper, and Rose's eyebrows climbed. Moments later he had it off and around Rose's eyes, and she frowned.

"Doctor, what the—"

"Shh." A cool finger rested against her lips, and Rose couldn't help but brush her tongue over her lips. There was a quiet gasp from somewhere in front of her, and the Doctor exploded into nervous babble. "Right! Well, I was exploring one night a couple years ago when I ran across this place. It took a while to find out what I could do with it—the library wasn't all that useful—but I found a book that should help a few days before I left. Wasn't much good while I was at home, though—I wasn't even sure it had survived the Battle until a couple weeks ago."

Rose huffed a little, reaching out for his hand. He wrapped it around hers immediately, and some of her nerves faded. "Blimey, Doctor, d'you ever do anything but explore? You've got to sleep sometime."

His grip tightened as his voice went cold. "No, I don't."

"Doctor?" Rose frowned and reached up to tug away the blindfold, but his other hand caught hers and stopped her.

His voice was warm and amused again, the cold tone from earlier faded away like a half-remembered dream. "Ah ah ah, Rose. No spoiling the surprise."

"Well, get on with it, then."

He chuckled, the soft puff of air brushing against her cheek. "So impatient, really." She opened her mouth, and he again laid a finger against her lips. "All right, all right." He tugged on her hand, and Rose blinked into the heavy silk of his tie as they moved from the damp chill of the dungeon passageway to a warm, dry chamber. Her trainers scuffed against what felt like wooden floorboards, and Rose cocked her head to catch any clues through her ears. It was useless, though. Wherever they were, the silence sat heavy as a blanket on the room, interrupted only by their soft breathing.

The Doctor squeezed her hand. "I'm going to leave you right here, okay Rose? I'll be right back. And don't take off the blindfold." Rose swallowed hard as he stepped away, tangling her hands together. The tie was still tight around her head, blocking out all light as she waited. There was a muffled curse from the Doctor, the sound nearly swallowed by the rustle of his bag. "Ha! Here it is." There was a dry sound of paper rustling, and the Doctor cleared his throat. "Canto accendo spiritus." The distinct pulse of magic vibrated through the air, and he began to hum. Awkward at first, then drifting into something complex and beautiful—

Wait.

That wasn't the Doctor.

Rose reached up and yanked off his tie, blinking into the sudden light. They stood in the center of a small, circular room, the Doctor paused beside a tall, polished wooden harp. A serene face was carved into the pillar, its eyes closed in joy as it sang along. The Doctor had stopped humming when Rose pulled the blindfold off, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Rose! It wasn't all ready yet." She ignored him and turned slowly, staring around the small room. Musical instruments of every description lined the room, from an intricately etched violin perched against a heavy cello to a small set of panpipes piled next to a full set of bells. She spun to face him again, his frustration gone and replaced by a soft, expectant joy.

"Doctor, 's beautiful!"

He grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet, his wand flicking out towards the other instruments like a mad conductor. "You haven't even seen the best part." He stepped up next to her as a painted djembe drum began to thump out a steady rhythm in counterpoint to the harp's song, followed by the distinctive twang of an oud and the rippling notes of a dulcimer. A bagpipe began to play as the harp continued to sing, its ethereal song the centerpiece of an invisible orchestra. The bells were chiming behind them now, and Rose laughed as she spun to look at them.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with delight. "What is this place?"

He straightened, her happiness puffing out his chest. If he was any prouder, he'd probably start strutting like a peacock. "This, Rose, is the island of misfit toys. Or musical instruments, if you want to be literal about it. Self-aware instruments aren't much good for music classes, so any ensorcelled ones that get donated to Hogwarts tend to end up here." His eyes flickered over the varied instruments, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Can you imagine the level of spellwork it must've taken to teach them all to respond to one spell? It's incredible."

Rose nodded, taking in all of the instruments. After a while, she turned to him and cocked her head. "You said you'd found a book that told you about this place. What was it?"

He flushed and tugged on his ear. "Well, I'm technically not supposed to have it." He pulled out an old, battered volume, the pages fragile and the gold lettering nearly faded away completely—Rose could barely make out the title: Hogwarts: A History. "It's been omitted from all the recent editions, so I had to find an older copy." He glanced around and lowered his voice. "This one's from Professor Slughorn's personal collection."

Rose laughed, and after a moment the Doctor joined her. "What, you just nicked it?"

"Oi! Borrowed! I'll get it back to him. Eventually." He ran a hand through his hair again, blushing. "It's his own fault, really. If he'd been paying attention instead of going on and on about his Slug Club, I never would've gotten away with it."

"Entirely his fault, then."

He grinned, his eyes dancing. "Entirely." He reached out and tangled his hand with hers as they stood there, the music washing over them in waves.

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