Chapter 12 - Azkaban
Dolores Umbridge cancelled the levitation charm on Professor Smith the moment she reached the dungeons, not caring whether the person in question suffered any pain when he woke up.
"What are we going to do with you?" Umbridge muttered to herself. "In my opinion, the dementors are too nice. We need to make you suffer!" Her face twisted into a cruel grin, just as Snape walked in.
"Severus, do you have the veritaserum?" Umbridge asked, hastily removing the grin from her face.
Snape nodded.
"Very well. Ennervate!" Umbridge said, pointing her wand at Professor Smith's prone form.
Professor Smith's eyes snapped open.
"Ow, did someone drop me? 'Cause my back's really sore," he said, wincing. "Err, why am I tied up?" he asked, noticing the ropes binding his hands and feet.
"Severus, the potion," Umbridge said. "Mister Crouch, have you ever heard of veritaserum?"
"Crouch? Who's Crouch?" Professor Smith asked, confused. Snape uncorked the bottle and moved towards Professor Smith.
"It's a truth potion!" Umbridge almost laughed. "Soon, you'll be telling us everything we need to know, whether you like it or not!"
Professor Smith's eyes went wide. "No, you really don't want to do this – glug!"
Snape took the initiative with Professor Smith's open mouth, and poured three drops down his throat. Professor Smith shuddered uncontrollably for a minute before going still.
"Who are you?" Umbridge demanded.
"Professor John Smith," Professor Smith said tonelessly.
Snape frowned. "Are you Bartemius Crouch Junior?"
"No."
"Do you know of anyone called Bartemius Crouch?"
"No."
Snape grabbed Professor Smith by his shoulders and forced him against the wall. "You are recognisably Bartemius Crouch Junior, yet you deny the fact. So tell me, how are you resisting the effects of Veritaserum?"
"I'm not."
"He needs a more concentrated dosage, Severus!" Umbridge cried. "Give him all of it!"
"Such an act is extremely dangerous, Dolores. Veritaserum is toxic when consumed in large amounts," Snape replied.
"I don't care, do it!"
Gritting his teeth, Snape reluctantly obeyed, unstoppering the bottle and pouring the entire contents down Professor Smith's gullet.
"Are you Bartemius Crouch Junior?" Snape asked again.
"No."
"Why are you kidnapping students at Hogwarts?" Umbridge said.
"I'm not."
"Are you in league with the Dark Lord?" Snape said quietly.
"No."
"How did you survive the dementors?"
Professor Smith said nothing.
Umbridge frowned.
Snape suddenly realised that he was most likely facing the man who gave him, Dumbledore and McGonagall the information on the Dark Lord's activities during 1994 and early to mid 1995. He also realised that if this information was repeated to Umbridge, the foolish woman would have no choice but to accept the truth. Asking him to repeat everything that was said that night would also have the added effect of proving whether or not the man was Crouch.
Despite the fact that Snape had no idea what had happened to John in the staff room, he still believed that the science teacher was Crouch in disguise. The chances that some magic could change a person's entire physical appearance to match that of a highly dangerous Death Eater were extremely low.
"Repeat everything you told Dumbledore the last time you were under the influence of veritaserum," Snape said after a lengthy pause.
"I've never been under the influence of veritaserum before."
Snape looked at Professor Smith disbelievingly. Despite the odds, it had transpired that John Smith - if he still was John Smith - was not Bartemius Crouch Junior. This both relieved him and worried him at the same time. No, Barty Crouch wasn't responsible for the disappearing students. But if that were the case, then who was?
He sighed and turned to Umbridge. "Dolores, it is quite obvious that this man, despite his appearances, is not Barty Crouch. I suggest that -"
"You will suggest nothing!" cried Umbridge. "Your potion is not strong enough, he is resisting it!"
Snape ignored the very strong urge to roll his eyes. "I have already used the entire potion on him. We are lucky he is not dead. Three drops is usually sufficient."
"The whole potion is not good enough! We need more!"
"Certainly," said Snape. "However, considering its ingredients and brewing time, I shall have it ready in about a month."
"You are deliberately hindering me!" shrieked Umbridge, pointing an accusing finger at Snape. "You are on probation!"
Snape simply raised an eyebrow, but Umbridge wasn't watching him. She was muttering somthing that sounded suspiciously like 'Destroy Dumbledore's legacy...blame it all on him..."
"I have decided to send him off the Azkaban regardless," she said eventually. "Even if he is 'John Smith', then he is clearly a lunatic and needs to be isolated. We can blame the disappearing students on him as well, just to clean up loose ends."
Snape rolled his eyes. "As much as I admire your logic, Dolores," he said softly. "I can't allow you to pervert justice in this way. You are not going to do anything with him until the Headmaster has been consulted."
"I don't think your precious Dumbledore will be Headmaster for much longer, Severus," Umbridge said smugly. "In fact, knowing Cornelius' plan, he's probably halfway to Azkaban now, which is where this man is going." She pointed at Professor Smith. "Don't argue," she said sharply, seeing Snape open his mouth. "Albus may have forgiven your history, but I may be less inclined. Leave now and you won't end up in Azkaban either."
Snape's expression at that moment rivalled the death glare of a Basilisk.
'This woman needs to be put away. Permanently,' he thought to himself. He was very tempted to stand and fight, but he decided that, if this old toad was in charge, he could serve Hogwarts better by remaining.
"Very well," he said curtly, and left the dungeon, heading straight for Dumbledore's office.
"Oi, don't I get a say in this?" Professor Smith asked.
Umbridge turned in shock.
"How did you throw off the effects of veritaserum? It lasts for five hours!"
Professor Smith shrugged. "Dunno," he said evasively. In reality, he had only pretended to be subjugated by the potion after the first three drops; although he'd never been administered the potion before, truth drugs from anywhere in the universe were remarkably similar, so mimicking the effects of veritaserum had been relatively easy. Everything he had said after Snape had emptied the entire bottle down his throat, however, was completely influenenced by the potion. Luckily, thanks to his Time Lord metabolism, the potion had cleared his system in minutes.
"Well, in that case, stupefy!"
The beam of red radiation knocked Professor Smith out instantly.
"Finally, some peace and quiet," Umbridge muttered. "Portus," she said, pointing her wand at a candle. As it briefly glowed blue, Umbridge grabbed Professor Smith's unconscious body before taking hold of the candle and disappearing.
"Wonder what that staff meeting was about yesterday," Harry said as the trio walked down to breakfast the next day.
"I wouldn't be surprised if it's something to do with what happened in the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said sullenly. "I'd bet everything that Umbridge has got spies in Hogsmeade to keep an eye on students –"
All three froze in the doorway to the Great Hall. Umbridge was sitting in Dumbledore's chair, an extremely big, smug grin splattered across her toad-like face.
"What's she doing there?" Ron croaked. "She's...she's not Headmistress is he?"
"I think we'll find out in a minute," said Hermione quietly as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.
Once the entire school was seated, Umbridge gave her stupid little cough.
"Hem hem. Now, as you all may have noticed, Professor Smith is not here today. This is because he is currently in Azkaban, after I escorted him there last night."
Silence.
"He was last night revealed to be an escaped lunatic in disguise, who had been abducting students from this school." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I know that many of you children will not believe me, but both myself and the Ministry have only your best interests in our hearts, and it was in your best interests that he was removed so quickly."
"NO, YOU LIAR!" Harry bellowed, standing up. "YOU'RE MAKING IT UP!"
Ron and Hermione groaned.
"Detention every evening this week, Mister Potter! I will not be interrupted," Umbridge declared triumphantly. The Slytherin table burst into laughter.
Fury boiled up inside Harry. "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked desperately. "He'll put a stop to all this nonsense!"
"Albus Dumbledore is no longer the Headmaster of this school!" Umbridge said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear. "He was relieved of his office after the revelations concerning Professor Smith. I am his replacement."
At this, the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables entered a full scale riot. Students roared in anger, upsetting the golden plates and cups as they demonstrated their hatred of this development.
"SILENCE!" Umbridge shrieked, letting off several bangs from her wand. "That's better," she said sweetly. "Now, let's get straight into the new rules shall we? I am here to look after you in a safe environment. Unfortunately, the holidays remove you from this safe environment, putting you danger from uncountable, small, trivial things. As only the Slytherins are capable of coping with dangerous environments, I hereby cancel all holidays for every member of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Students in those houses will not be allowed to go home until they have finished Seventh Year, when they are capable of dealing with the outside world.
The populace of the Hall sat in silence, too stunned to do anything about the drastic change in regime. Even the teachers were too surprised to say anything, a fact they would come to regret.
"School is a place where we learn how to get along with each other despite our differences. To encourage this, Gryffindors will now share all classes and a Common Room with the Slytherins, and the Hufflepuffs with the Ravenclaws" Umbridge continued. "This is because Slytherin House and Hufflepuff House are exceptional at co-operation, and can pass their skills on to the other houses."
"Mister Filch is hard pressed to deal with school discipline, and has asked me to ensure that the Slytherins help him deal out detentions and punishments. I have agreed to his proposals. Finally, anyone who so much as whispers anything about a dark wizard having returned to this country will find themselves in detention, with me, every night for the rest of their time at Hogwarts."
"And now," said Umbridge happily. "Let's move on to the more basic and trivial matters..."
Harry sat in despair as he listened to Umbridge drone on and on about the new rules. 'This isn't Hogwarts,' he though angrily. 'This is a totalitarian dictatorship!'
But there was absolutely nothing he, or anyone else, could do about it.
A thousand miles away, in the middle of the North Sea, Professor Smith lay in a cell in Azkaban, forced by the power of the dementors to relive his worst memories.
oOo
He stood, crying softly, holding his daughter close, as they carried his wife away. His darling, beautiful wife had finally lost her battle with post-regenerative decay.
"Goodbye, dear," he said tearfully, before losing control of his emotions. He turned and sobbed into his daughter's shoulder.
FLASH
He stood in front of the TARDIS console, looking up at the scanner screen, his hands hovering over the controls. Ian and Barbara stood behind him, observing silently.
"Goodbye, Susan. Goodbye, my dear"
He began the dematerialisation sequence, barely holding back the tears as he watched Susan's nervous face fade from the scanner screen. He knew that it would be a long time before he returned, if he did at all. That fact broke his hearts.
FLASH
"Please hurry, Doctor! We must get Adric of the Freighter!" Nyssa cried.
"I'm trying, but the console's damaged!" he replied, desperately trying to get the TARDIS to respond.
"Look!" Tegan said, pointing at the scanner screen.
He and Nyssa turned; to their horror, the scanner screen showed the Freighter heading straight for Earth.
"Adric!" Nyssa shouted in horror.
With bated breath, he, along with Nyssa and Tegan watched as the Freighter grew smaller and smaller...
A small flash of light burst from the Earth, a visible shockwave.
Nyssa and Tegan turned to him, to shocked to speak. He swallowed heavily, there was nothing he could do. Adric was dead.
FLASH
The Matrix display screen faded to black, but it's final image - of a bald Peri clutching her head - lingered on in his mind. But it wasn't Peri, it was Kiv in her body, her brain swapped for his.
He looked at the Inquisitor, still not quite convinced that what he had just witnessed had occurred. You killed Peri!" he choked.
The Inquisitor stared back at him, her eyes emotionless. "We had to act."
He couldn't help it; he turned and ran from the courtroom before he broke down completely.
FLASH
His eyes snapped open, and he stared up at the face of the doctor. He knew immediately where he was: an operating table, undergoing surgery to remove the bullets from the shooting. No doubt they had found some trace of his binary vascular system and mistaken it for something else. He had to warn them! And the Master, he had to stop him as well!
He grabbed the doctor's arm. "Whatever you're about to do, stop!" he said urgently.
The doctor slapped his hand away. "Mister Smith, you'll be all right," she said reassuringly.
"No. I'm not human, I'm not like you!"
"Nobody is, Mister Smith," the doctor replied absently.
"Please, I need a beryllium atomic clock. This is 1999, isn't it?"
"We can't wait any longer, Grace," another doctor said.
With a sense of horror, he watched as a mask was lowered over his face. "No! I'm not human, I'm not human!" he cried desperately, pulling the mask off his face.
"Try not to speak, Mister Smith. We've already taken out all the bullets, now we're going to listen to your heart, and try and find out why it's so wild, then I'm going to fix it. You'll be fine," the first doctor said as the mask was moved back into position.
He sat up, making all the operating staff jump back in shock.
"Timing malfunction!" he breathed. "The Master, he's out there! I've got to stop him!
He mentally screamed in horror as he was pushed back down, and the mask once again placed over his face. He had to stop them, they'd kill him if they weren't careful. And the Master, he had to stop him, had...to...stop...
FLASH
They tore down the corridor as fast as they could, her hand gripped firmly in his. Finally, the battered blue exterior of his TARDIS came into view.
"Almost...there," he panted, turning to look at Romana, who smiled in relief.
"Stop them!" cried a voice from behind them. They turned quickly, only for their hearts to plummet. Rassilon was on their tail.
Guards burst into the room, firing their stasers.
He and Romana sprinted the short distance to the TARDIS, where they would be protected by its force field. He reached inside his jacked for the TARDIS key, took it out, and fumbled for the lock.
"What're you going to do?" Romana asked him.
"I've got something called the Moment," he said, his eyes flickering over her head as he kept an eye on the approaching guards. "It will Time Lock the whole war, trapping everything inside. I'm going to hook it up to the De-mat gun and use it to destroy everything."
"But you can't!" Romana said, horrified.
"I have to!" he shouted. "If I don't, Rassilon will destroy the entire universe; I have no choice! What I have to do, I do in the name of peace and sanity."
A staser bolt collided with the TARDIS' shields.
"Let's go," he said hurriedly, attempting to push Romana into the TARDIS.
Romana glanced back at the guards, they were too close.
"No, Doctor," she said. "The guards are too close. They'll force their way inside before you can dematerialise."
His eyes went wide. "No, what are you -"
"I'm staying," she said firmly. "I'll buy you some time, distract them."
"No! Please, Romana, I'm about to kill everything in the war, I can't kill you too!" he said desperately.
"Goodbye, Doctor," she said gently.
He relented, recognising a lost cause. "I haven't been the Doctor," he said, giving her a sad smile. "Not since I regenerated."
And with that, he turned and entered the TARDIS.
With a start, the Doctor woke up. Breathing heavily, he looked around, only to see the damp and dark conditions of his cell, and the occasional dementor glide past his door.
"This must be Azkaban," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. "But how'd I get here?"
"Can't you remember?" asked an unfamiliar Scottish-accented voice from the back of his cell.
Professor Smith looked up and frowned. "Who're you?" he asked cautiously.
"Who do you think?" the voice said wrily.
"Not a clue," Professor Smith said. "You've got a Scottish accent, like Amy, like Jamie, like my seventh self..." he trailed off. "No!" he said disbelievingly. The voice wasn't that of his seventh self, and he hadn't had another body with a Scottish accent, so that must mean he was about to meet a future incarnation!
"Yes," answered the Doctor, stepping from the shadows.
Professor Smith looked up at himself. His future self's hair was short - though not as short as his ninth self's - and grey. His face was lined with wrinkles, but the eyes were bright and full of a keen energy.
"What are you doing here?" he said crossly. "You're violating the First Law of Time!"
The Doctor ignored him. "You still haven't answered my question, you know," he pointed out.
"Blimey, I get older and ruder," Professor Smith muttered. "And I see we're still not ginger."
"Enough of my appearance, okay?" the Doctor scowled. "I'm only here because I remember being you seeing me telling me that I was only here because I remembered -"
"Yes, alright," said Professor Smith hastily, seeing that his future self was quite prepared to continue the infinite loop of time travel. "And to answer your question; I remember being knocked out, but the next thing I remember is being dragged to my cell. So whatever brought me here didn't take long, a brief exposure to charged particles, like a stunning spell, would've only knocked me out for a minute at best."
"That toad faced woman brought you here via portkey," the Doctor explained. "It's a method of magical transportation that uses objects to take you somewhere, generally long distances."
"How do you know that?"
The Doctor sighed. "Like I said before, I remember being you watching me tell you that you got her via portkey, which is a method of magical transportation -"
"You know, you could've just said wibbly wobbly, timey wimey," Professor Smith complained. "Blimey, old, rude, grey and grumpy!"
"Whatever," the Doctor said, and he glared at his past self before tapping a device wrapped around wrist. "Vortex manipulator, use it to get out of here," he said shortly. "I wait for the TARDIS to pick me up."
"Vortex manipulator? Is it River's?" Professor Smith asked.
"Yep, she's dead, doesn't have any use for it now."
Professor Smith frowned at his future self's lack of compassion for River's fate, but pushed the thoughts aside.
"Right," he said, "so I get the manipulator and go back to Hogwarts, while you sit here and wait for River to pick you up?" He paused, thinking. "But how do you have her manipulator if she's not dead yet?"
"Different points in her timeline," the Doctor said, as if it were obvious. "But she's not picking me up anyway, someone else is."
"No, wait, don't tell me," Professor Smith said. "Spoilers, right?"
"Yeah, the usual," the Doctor said. He took off the vortex manipulator and gave it to his past self. "Oh, and remember to come back and rescue yourself after your trip to Panem."
Professor Smith grimaced. "Panem. I've only been there once, and I don't want to go again."
"Tough," said the Doctor rudely. "You'll get there whether you want to or not."
Professor Smith rolled his eyes and entered Hogwarts' co-ordinates on the manipulator. "Alright, I look forward to being you! Allon -" he cried, pressing the button.
He disappeared, the teleportation cutting his final word short.
The Doctor groaned loudly and sat down in the cell. "Young maniac," he muttered.
Two weeks later, conditions at Hogwarts had drastically worsened thanks to Umbridge's new regime. She now had total control, and the only thing stopping her from going further and making slaves out of everyone but the Slytherins were laws set down by her beloved Ministry. In reality, the laws only stopped her from making official slaves out of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, they were essentially slaves anyway, or in legal terms unofficial slaves. In other words, the amount of work required was astronomical. Students weren't taught anything with much substance thanks to the new Ministry curriculum dictating that only simple, non-offensive spell and potions be taught. The homework amount for the Gryffindors was humongous, and was made worse by all the cleaning duties they were also required to complete. The worst thing about the current situation was, however, the fact that Umbridge insisted that all the extreme rules she had introduced were for their own good, a rhetoric repeated by the Ministry.
The teachers and many parents had protested very vocally about the changes, but their calls for common sense and logic had fallen on deaf ears. If any members of the wizarding community had read political literature like George Orwell's 1984, they would have realised that the Ministry was well on its way to becoming a totalitarian form of government. The censorship and extensive control of education was the first step, and the Ministry had just taken it.
"I wish we could go home," moaned Ron as the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs lined up by the Lake for their daily inspection early one morning.
"Shut it!" whispered Hermione. "You know that we can't go home until we've finished Seventh Year!"
"And by that time, Umbridge'll probably have managed to find away to make me her personal pet," Harry said miserably. "For some reason, I wish Professor Smith were here."
"Having fun, Potty, Weasel, Mudblood?" asked Malfoy as he walked up to them. "Oh, and you're all clean too! How'd you manage to escape all the new additions to your classmates' bodies?"
Corporal punishment had returned with Umbridge, and it was made worse by the fact that the Slytherins were in charge of it. There was barely a person without some sort of physical injury, but somehow, the trio had managed to escape the whips, stocks, thumbscrews and the like, mostly be keeping their heads down and going unnoticed. However, as Malfoy leered at them, Harry sensed that their luck had run out.
"Oh look, Potty, your hair's not combed. Weasel, you've got dirt on your face. Mudblood...you're a mudblood, that's a good enough excuse. All up, I think that's fifty lashes each, and a week in the dungeon."
Ron muttered some words that would make even the most hardened sailor wince.
"Hmm, that's a public lashing for you, Weasel!" Malfoy said gleefully. Grabbing hold of Ron, he dragged him out to the front of the assembled students. "Permission to give Weasley a public lashing?" he asked Umbridge eagerly.
Umbridge smiled. "You know you don't need my permission, Draco," she purred. "Just make sure that you -"
But what Umbridge wanted Malfoy to do, no one ever knew, for at that moment, a great pulse of compressed air threw everyone to the ground.
"What was that?" Malfoy shouted, pushing himself up.
Brrrrrrrrrr!
A weird, droning sound began, and the grassy patch to the left of the assembled crowd was flattened. Students and teachers exchanged looks of confusion. What was causing the grass to behave so inexplicably? They got their answer when the ship that had just landed turned off its camouflage circuits.
Surprisingly, no one panicked. Instead, on Umbridge's hushed orders, Malfoy and several members of the Inquisitorial Squad cautiously approached the craft.
"What the hell is that?" asked Goyle.
"How should I know, idiot?" retorted Malfoy as a door in the craft opened with a pneumatic hiss.
The Inquisitorial Squad hurriedly retreated as a figure exited the craft. Malfoy, ever the coward, pushed Crabbe forward.
"Talk to it," he whispered. Crabbed gulped and nodded.
"Hel, hello?" he said tentatively.
"You are not a zygon," said the creature, stepping out of the shadows. Crabbe's eyes went wild and he tried to run, but his feet seemed rooted in place with fear. "You are a human," continued the creature. "All humans must be obliterated!"
And without another word, the zygon raised a weapon and shot Crabbe at point black range. Crabbe sank to the ground, staring at his hand as it cracked and dried.
"What have you done?" he managed to gasp through his parched throat. Turning, he gave Malfoy one last anguished look before his body and robes fell apart, leaving only a few bone fragments on the ground where he once stood.
Silence.
The panic began. Students ran everywhere, trying to get back to the Castle while the teachers quickly put up some shield charms and began to retreat, backing away from the ship, wands raised. More zygons emerged from the ship and began firing into the crowd. Students, despite their teachers' best efforts, fell to the ground, clutching their stomachs as their bodies dehydrated and disintegrated.
As soon as the pandemonium started, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand.
"Come on," he said urgently. "We can't stay here; we need to get to the forest!"
"What about the Castle? That's where everyone else is!" Hermione said, almost in tears.
"That's where those zygons'll go too, trust me," he said, dodging through the crowd of students, teachers and zygons.
"But we can't just leave everyone!" Hermione said desperately. "What about Ron? Ginny? Fred and George? What's happened to them?"
"I don't know," Harry replied through gritted teeth. Only one thing was certain: the Invasion Fleet had arrived.
Author Note: The Invasion's here! How will the Doctor stop it? If he does, what will the cost be? All will be revealed in the coming chapters!
I hope you enjoyed the cameo of 12, and the flashbacks to moments I deemed to be among the worst in the Doctor's life. (Obviously, the one with him crying because of his wife's death, and the one where he's escaping Gallifrey are ones I made up.) And no, before anyone asks, I don't think Rose's departure comes anywhere near a worst moment. If she had been sucked into the Void (which she should have) then it would'ver been a different matter...no one likes seeing their friends die.
Replies to Reviews:
Insanityisgood25: No problem! Yeah, when writing the original, I figured if you cross Harry Potter and Doctor Who, you have to mention/feature Barty Crouch somehow. So, as much as I don't like 10, I put him in.
Dimmitri Darkson Makros: A version of her is a student at Hogwarts, yes. Whether or not we'll actually see the trio and her interact is another question!
TracyFace3: Degeneration. I hope the veritaserum scene met your expectations! Thanks!
transformers907: No, no main characters will be killed off this time. I agree, it wrecked HP canon (as if the story hadn't done that already!), but there's also the fact that both of the main characters I killed off last time are pivotal to the plot of the sequel!
SuOmAlAiNeN92: Don't worry, I don't claim to have invented it, all credit goes to you (for its definition in the context of the story)!
I can very easily imagine 12 as a sarcastic, no-nonsense Doctor, and I tried to emphasise the no-nonsense aspect in his cameo. Obviously, I can't write him accurately until he's had an episode or two, but it'll do for now.
As for Clara, you got it in one!
Snape's absolute trust in veritaserum meant he very quickly realised that 10-who's-also-still-technically-11 probably wasn't Barty. Umbridge, on the other hand, didn't care, just as long as he went to Azkaban.
Ms. AJ Ninja: Updates are every four days. And you're cheering because the degeneration was a great plot twist, right? Not because 10 turned up?
Nat Anne Cullen: Thanks!
My Spirit is an Arctic Fox: I like cliffhangers. Cliffhangers are cool! ;) This chapter should have answered all your questions, I hope you were satisfied!