A/N: I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've been working on polishing up my betas' stories, and trying to work on this simultaneously. I figured I should bang the rest of the chapter out this morning, and get back to the other after. This has some interesting stuff come up, and I can't wait to see what you all think. Thanks to my faithful reviewers, and as always, allonsy!

I found myself back in the TARDIS looking at Neville, Kaal and Aryn. None of them said a word. I walked stiffly back to the console, noticing that the screen was still on in the room. The Master was using his sonic to try and fix some of the computers and uploading information to his sonic that the humans shouldn't have. At least he was listening to me, the one person he actually remembered besides Thete. He'd said my name once; the rest were still staring at me as if I'd grown horns or something. "What is it?" I asked quietly, not sure why they were looking at me in that way.

"You just—you went down there and killed a man," Aryn said, her arm pointing to the screen. It was shaking slightly.

"He was about to kill the other man, and he had to be stopped," I said simply. I should have turned off the screen before leaving.

"He did nothing to you—"

"And he was about to kill billions of people for no other reason than to see his own race reborn!" I yelled. "He drove that man insane, and created a link with him to do so. That man believed his entire life that he was born that way when the man I killed made him that way. He wanted to wipe out every other being in this galaxy to escape his fate. Would you rather I had let him live?" I challenged Aryn. She stood still, her lip quivering and looking on the verge of tears. "If you're going to cry over a psycho like the one I killed, do it somewhere else." Aryn ran to the hall and quickly shut herself into one of the rooms. Kaal was also standing at the console, a frown deepening on his face. "What? I've dealt with that man longer than all of the years you lot have lived—combined. He is a raging, homicidal lunatic. I wasn't going to watch him destroy my friend again, not when I could prevent it."

"You're telling me there was no other way for you to save your friend and not kill that man?"

"None that I know of." I busied myself with plotting the coordinates I'd put in before we had landed at Hogwarts. We had to get Neville back to his job. I was not about to get yelled at for taking him somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. That damn woman showed up again. I hit my console as I threw a sideways scowl in her direction. "What the hell do you want? All we're looking to do is get everything righted again. The professor here is going back, and we'll be on our way."

The woman's mischievous grin only angered me more. "You completely missed the point of this entire exercise, Chancellor. Or shall I say—?"

"Don't you dare say my name; that is reserved only for those who we deem worthy, of which you certainly aren't. Koschei knows because we're good friends. Thete knows because we were also friends. I've chosen to be known as the Chancellor because I do not feel comfortable giving them my name."

Kaal's mouth opened slightly in shock. "After everything that's happened, after everything we've been through, you still don't consider us friends? You don't trust us with even your name?"

I bit my tongue. It was true; I didn't consider them friends. They didn't really know me. All they knew were flashes of images I allowed them to see. Was that the point in all this? That I needed to learn to trust? I thought over everything the Mind Weaver had said, her words soaking into my being. Was I really this dense? I had done everything almost on my own, not daring to trust these people at all but with a few tasks. They had been there for me, followed me into some dangerous situations not knowing if they would survive, and I was here saying I didn't trust them with my name? How pathetic; how so very, very pathetic. I looked back at the woman who called herself the Mind Weaver. "Is that it? Is it the fact that I don't trust anybody in this whole galaxy except myself and the other two?"

"Finally!" the woman exclaimed, her grin widening. "I knew you'd figure it out sooner or later."

I looked at the woman in pain. "So we went through all of this agony because you were trying to prove that trust is something I need to be doing?"

"Precisely. Now that you know, I'll let you all get back to the real situation at hand." I blinked. What did she mean by—?

My eyes fluttered open, my body still frozen and stiff as a board. I couldn't make any noise; I was still under that spell Neville had put on me. I could hear the others groaning, Kaal especially. Neville was on his hands and knees, his wand lying next to him. I could hear him taking a few deep breaths to wake himself up. He grabbed his wand and looked at me, still on his hands and knees. He flicked it, and my body relaxed considerably. I moved my jaw around. Man, that spell was something else. I flexed my fingers and rolled my wrists and ankles. The soreness would wear off in a matter of minutes. But what had caused us to be in that state? What had gotten hold of us to put us in such dire situations? Something rolled off me as I sat up. What in the world? I picked up what looked like a small crystal. Now where had this come from? I took a closer look at it. I knew this. Of all the things that I barely knew, this was one of them. It was a parasitic lifeform from the planet Karass Don Slava. A pollen of some sort; it sent its victims into a dream state, feeding and leeching off the darkest parts of them. Was that what it had done to us? Had it been forcing us to live through my darkness for nothing? I stared at the grain of pollen in my hand, pondering my choices. The woman talked about trust; something I usually didn't do. I'd trusted the Lord President, and he broke it when he made the Master's life his play-thing. I trusted the Master, and he had grown into something possibly worse than me. I had trusted my fellow Time Lords and Ladies, and they sided with Rassilon in breaking the Master. It wasn't hard to see why I had trust issues. Was I really willing to lay my trust on the line for my heart to be torn into pieces yet again? I didn't know. What I did know was that these three people had chosen to listen to me, and they trusted me even when I refused to trust them.

Kaal was standing but bent over, as if he was sick. He glanced at me, still trying to find the will to stand up straight. "What is that?" he asked, still doubled over. I didn't answer; I was looking to see if there was any more of this pollen around us. I saw more than I thought I'd find. I reached into a pants pocket and pulled out a small drawstring bag. I started putting the pollen in it; if it contacted anyone else, it could be bad. Who knows what darkness would lie in these—? My blood chilled at the thought. No. Could the Sontarans have been behind this? It was a strong possibility. Now that I knew the other two scenarios hadn't been real, this one very well could be. But how had they managed it? The people of Karass Don Slava would have noticed a Sontaran. Then again, the Candle Meadows weren't home to the shortest grass ever. A Sontaran or two could have easily hidden and grabbed what pollen they needed.

"This could be the start of the end for the witches and wizards in this place." Neville had used some healing spells to help Aryn and Kaal. I was already fine. Neville shot me a worried look.

"What do you mean 'the start of the end'?"

I held up the pollen; it lay in my hand, and I dumped it into the bag I had. "This; it's psychic pollen." Neville snorted. "Look, I'm not kidding here; those trials we went through were a result of this pollen," I said, holding up the bag. "It feeds off of a being's darkest thoughts and deeds. Of the few things I know, this is one of them. I think the Sontarans have gone to Karass Don Slava and grabbed an immense load of pollen to keep the witches and wizards from interfering with their takeover. It's the only possibility that makes sense. Why else would there be this much pollen in this place? No one but those from another galaxy even knows where the planet is."

"Then where are these 'Sontarans' you speak of?" Neville asked, a smirk on his face.

"In your gardens, Professor," I said, seething. "Those beings you see walking around without a care in the world? Those are Sontarans."

"Those are garden gnomes," Neville said with a laugh. "Not aliens."

"Really? How many have you seen up close?"

Neville paused, puzzled at my question. "Does it matter? They're garden gnomes."

"There's a spot in the back of their head that will stun them when it's hit. Did you know that? Did you also know that Sontarans are all clones, explaining why all those gnomes that 'don't matter' look so much alike? Did you know that Sontarans are one of the most feared species in the whole of the galaxy because once they start fighting, they never stop? You were there with us, fighting Daleks right alongside us, and you're telling me that you don't believe a word I'm saying right now?"

"Those were your darkest memories; if we were in your dream, why wouldn't I believe you?"

My face darkened. I held up the bag with the pollen. "How about we go into your darkest memories, Neville? What would come up if that happened?"

His eyes blazed. "You wouldn't dare—"

"Try me, wizard. You saw me kill a man; all of us would just be along for the ride." My lips were pressed tight, the tension between us growing more and more volatile by the minute. "Now think of that, and think of your friends; what would this do to them?"

He looked at me and I could tell his mind was buzzing with the implications of what the pollen would do to them. His eyes took on a hollow look, possibilities zooming around in his head. I could see it; I could see it all. "Harry" was all he said as he started towards the staircases. Why was this "Harry" so important? Neville himself had endured more than most; I could tell that from his defensive and evasive manner in confronting us in the Herbology class. If what this Harry faced was worse than that, then this pollen could potentially be lethal to him. Maybe. I'd never heard of it doing that, but with a situation like this, one never knew what the strange effects of magic and psychic pollen would do to a person. I was following Neville, and Aryn and Kaal were scrambling after me.

Neville bounded up the staircase leading to the Headmistress' office. He pounded on the door. "Professor McGonagall! Headmistress! There's an emergency!" I could hear muffled voices, and steps that grew louder. The door swung open. The Headmistress looked slightly perturbed.

"What is it, Professor Longbottom? And what are the educational inspectors doing with you? Don't tell me, Professor; they're dark wizards and need to be locked up in Azkaban," she said, her voice taking on a sarcastic tone. Neville quickly glanced at the ground, then back up at her.

"That's not it, Headmistress; we have a situation that warrants your attention. Is there any way to get in contact with Harry?"

"What does he have anything to do with this situation?"

"Because he could be in danger!" Neville said angrily. "You and I both know that he has a propensity for it, and it has probably already found him!"

"You're acting very peculiar, Professor; do you need to go see Madame Pompfrey again?"

"I don't need any more spells, and I'm not being unreasonable. I have very good reason to believe that the entire wizarding world is on the verge of another attack."

"From who?" she demanded to know. "Who could bring down an entire civilization?"

Neville bit his tongue. It sounded absolutely ridiculous. "Sontarans."

"What in the world are 'Sontarans'?"

"This is going to sound like absolute madness—"

"And telling me that Professor Malfoy needs to be locked up isn't madness?"

I could see that Neville was trying to control himself. "That was a whole other incident that we talked about and dismissed. This is a real situation."

"Professor Longbottom, no one doubts your unshakable loyalty to the Ministry, especially what you did as an Auror. You helped Potter and Granger put away more people than I thought possible, but once you started making wild, ungrounded accusations against wizards and witches, you didn't seem like a sane person anymore. I knew your love of Herbology would be a good fit for this school, and it's why I hired you. Ever since the Malfoy incident, I've been wondering if that was such a good idea." She had guided us into her office during her speech, and I took to the couch along with Aryn and Kaal. I didn't really understand most of what she said, but the parts about accusations and allegations would explain why he was so tense at seeing the three of us. Someone who'd been in charge of taking out bad guys could easily have a breakdown and think the world was after him. Apparently, something had happened to him to make him that way. It was definitely intriguing, to say the least.

I stood up. I couldn't keep this charade up any longer, and Neville looked on the verge of breaking down again. "Headmistress, I have a confession to make; we are not educational inspectors. Professor Longbottom was the one who caught us, and he was bringing us to you when something happened." The headmistress looked between Neville and me.

"What do you mean you're not educational inspectors? You showed me your Ministry credentials."

"Psychic paper, I'm afraid. See?" I said, holding up my ID holder with the psychic paper in it. "What is it telling you now?"

"That you're Ministry educational inspectors." I frowned. Really?

"Try looking at it closer," I said, handing it over to her. She inspected the ID holder, looking closer at the paper. She tapped it with her wand and gasped. Now she could see it clearly. Her face hardened as she looked up at the three of us.

"What is the meaning of this?" she growled, throwing the thing back at me.

"I, along with my fellow time-travelers, came here to verify that the Earth still existed. You see, I had reason to believe that this planet was in danger of being replaced by an alien planet called Gallifrey. We wanted to make sure the Doctor had prevented that from happening."

The Headmistress looked at us like we were insane. "There's been no indication, ever, that a person named the Doctor, or this planet you've mentioned, has existed. There's only magic in this world, my dear."

Now I grew puzzled. "What do you mean? There was a huge red planet coming to destroy this one; I was there. I remember it."

The Headmistress shook her head. "There's been no such thing, Miss….?"

"Smith."

The Headmistress frowned. "I know that's not your name."

"That's why I use an alias. Just call me Miss Smith for now. And there's been no sightings at all? This happened a few years back."

The woman looked over her glasses at me. "I don't remember anything of that sort happening; everyone would have seen it. Neville, have you seen this red planet Miss Smith's talking about?"

He shook his head. "She never even told me that's why she came."

I put my head in my hand in frustration, then looked back at the Headmistress and Neville. "All right, that's beside the point right now; Neville and the three of us came here to warn you about the threat that is coming to the wizarding world. You're about to be taken over."

"How do you know this?"

I gave Neville a side-long glance. "Because we've been exposed to the agent that will cause it. Professor Longbottom has witnessed first-hand what kind of danger this could be, especially to those with already tortured minds. He mentioned a Harry; is he someone important?" The woman only nodded her head, a little taken aback by everything we were telling her. "Well, this agent attacks and feeds off of dark memories. Am I right to conclude that this Harry fellow would be one of the people whose memories are darkest?"

The Headmistress wordlessly looked at Neville, who grimly nodded. "He's been through a hell of a lot in his life, and this—stuff, this pollen—could destroy him permanently," Neville replied, never taking his eyes off of the Headmistress. She sat on the edge of her desk, her hands flying to her mouth in worry, and shaking from the implication of what we were saying. We needed to reach this Harry fellow; his contact with the pollen, along with his magic, could envelope more people than we knew in his darkest of memories. And then the real madness would begin.