[an Anonymous Guest reviewer kindly informed me that my Hogwarts geography is incorrect. This chapter has been edited slightly to reflect that. :-D]
Chapter 6
"Harry, Hermione, and Ron are coming along," Rory said to the Doctor. "The rest feel more comfortable staying here. We had planned to celebrate Harry's birthday in three days…will we be back in time?"
The Doctor blinked in surprise. Rory noticed and continued, "Everyone's just trying to maintain as much normalcy as possible."
"I understand."
"Oh, and my dad wanted to know if, when we get back, you could answer some questions about the TARDIS? By 'some', he means about a million, by the way."
"My pleasure! Both your dads are very cool. They sort of look alike, as well."
Rory squinted his eyes, comparing the mental images of his fathers. "They do, don't they? I don't know if I'll ever get used to this."
Ron, Harry, and Hermione exited the Burrow, dressed in casual, Muggle-style clothes. Before they were within earshot of the others, Hermione whispered, "What if it's a Death Eater plot to get you and Dumbledore in one go?"
"Maybe. But if it isn't, we can't afford to lose this advantage. The time machine might help us defeat Voldemort."
"I just want to see first-hand proof," Ron said casually.
Hermione rolled her eyes at this comment, but she saw through it. Ron was just as worried as anyone else, and just as eager to find a solution.
The trio crossed the lawn to where the Doctor, Amy, and Rory were waiting. "The power of three, times two!" said the Doctor happily.
The wizards and witch were surprised to see that Hogwarts glowed like a beacon on the TARDIS' energy scanner. Landing there, however, proved to be a bit of a challenge. The blue box glanced off the wards that protected the castle with a sizzling, electric twang, and spun wildly over the grounds, eventually landing in an enormous tree. "Well, I suppose there are worse places-"
The Doctor was interrupted by a deluge of deafening thwacks that pounded the TARDIS from all sides. "What is that?" he yelled above the cacophony.
"Whomping willow!" cried Hermione, Harry and Ron in unison.
The sentient tree struck the Police Box a mighty blow, sweeping it forward out of its branches and onto the ground. When no thumps were heard for several seconds, the Doctor carefully opened the door. The tree seemed calm enough, but was still looming a little too close for comfort. All six of them tiptoed through the blue door, and began to tread softly in the direction of the castle. Distracted by the magnificent sight of Hogwarts, the Doctor tripped over a protruding root and fell gracelessly, face-first, to the ground. An instant later came a creaking, whooshing noise above him. He rolled to the side just as a branch tried to flatten him, then scrambled up and yelled, "Run!"
They sprinted to the front entrance, arriving without further incident. 'Sorry about that," said the Doctor as he attempted to push open the huge oak doors.
Finding them locked, he tried his sonic screwdriver. "I'm not sure that's going to work. They're sealed with magic. We need a teacher to let us in," said Hermione.
An instant later, the door swung open, and they were greeted by the lavender-robed form of Albus Dumbledore. His wand was held aloft, and a look of genuine surprise danced in his blue eyes. "I was just about to cast a few anti-intruder jinxes. Not a moment too soon, I see," he said, smiling.
"Headmaster Dumbledore," said Harry. "This is the Doctor and his companions, Amy and Rory. They're time-travelers from another world, and they want to help."
Dumbledore raised a white eyebrow. The Doctor reached out his right hand. Dumbledore was holding his wand in his left. He tucked it into his robes and extended the same hand. The handshake was a little awkward because of this, but the Doctor didn't seem to mind. Harry, however, noticed that the elderly wizard's long sleeve was obscuring his right hand, and he remembered that it had been injured earlier in the summer. He asked, "Are you all right, sir?"
"Yes, quite. You had all better get inside. I must attend to the gates," he said, keen eyes scanning the horizon.
Dumbledore drew his wand again and strode off down the path that led to the Entrance Gates, not looking back.
They entered the castle, and Harry slowly led the way to Dumbledore's office, stopping several times while the Doctor scanned things with his sonic, got caught up in conversations with portraits, and gawked over the general oddness of Hogwarts.
They found Severus Snape pacing back and forth in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's tower. He caught sight of them and froze, his anxious expression instantly replaced with one of calculated unconcern. Before anyone had a chance to speak, Dumbledore arrived and said, "Ah, Professor Snape. It seems a few of our students have arrived a bit early this year, and they've brought some unusual friends."
Snape looked at Amy, Rory, and the Doctor in turn, but his face gave none of his thoughts away. His handshake with the Doctor was perfunctory. Dumbledore whispered a password at the gargoyle, then led the way up the mysterious spiral staircase to his office, where he seated himself behind his desk and said, "Let's have some tea."
Within minutes, house-elves brought in extra chairs, a folding table, and a full tea-service, including plates of small sandwiches and sweets. The group all settled in, except for Snape, who seemed eager to leave. "Excuse me, I have some potions to attend to," he said.
"Have a seat, Professor," urged Dumbledore.
Snape obeyed, but made no move towards the refreshments. Dumbledore reached out and picked up his own teacup, revealing his right hand, which was mottled with dark patches. Harry was shocked; the damage appeared worse than he recalled. "Headmaster, what happened?"
"An embarrassingly silly mistake. I suppose, at my age, such slip-ups are increasingly likely. So, Doctor, may I ask for your prognosis?" he asked, eyes twinkling.
The Doctor rose and approached Dumbledore, pulling out his sonic screwdriver. Snape tensed almost imperceptibly, and moved his hand to his wand. Dumbledore shot him a glance and shook his head once, then submitted his hand to the Doctor's examination. He swept the sonic over the blackened digits, lingering for a moment on a gold ring with a dark stone on one of the fingers, then studied the readings. "I'm new to the Wizarding world, so forgive me if my terminology isn't accurate, but I'm picking up two different kinds of energy. One is very high frequency…it's disrupting your cells, killing them, like radiation…but not as fast as it ought to be, because the other kind of energy, much lower frequency, is causing your cells to regenerate. There's a battle being waged in your hand, sir. Unfortunately, I think your DNA is unraveling slightly faster than it can be repaired. I'm sorry."
Dumbledore looked impressed. "There are different kinds of magic. Most magic is neutral, and can be used for good or evil. Some magic heals damage. Some magic is borne out of pure love. Other magic, that which causes deliberate harm to a person, emerges from the realm of what we call the Dark Arts. Even so, it is all about intention. What is your intention, Doctor? Are you truly a healer?"
"I do my best."
"But you have your own wounds to contend with, too. We all do, and in my opinion, such struggle makes for a better healer. Why did you come here, in your time machine from another world, as Mr Potter put it?"
The Doctor glanced at his companions. "My friend Rory got lost. I found him, but things are never simple, are they? After meeting Rory's family and friends, and learning about the war with Voldemort…I can't just walk away."
"That is good, for you may be of great help. Are you, and your companions, sure of your magical status?"
"Where we're from, everyone is magical," he said, smiling.
"Your idealism is one of your greatest charms, Doctor, but I don't think that's what he means," said Amy.
"Hmmm, I wonder…" said Dumbledore, rising from his chair. He removed a large, brown, ragged, pointed hat with a wide brim from the bookshelf behind his desk. "Would you consent to being sorted?"