Ha! New chapter! Well... It's taken me some time to update this, but I've been focusing on other stories... In case you're interested, go to my profile page, I have two new stories; It takes one to know one (Sherlock and Harry Potter crossover) and The Doctor's son (Harry Potter and Doctor Who crossover).

Anyway, just ignore that small advert... And well enjoy! Disclaimer: Blah, bla, bla, all the typical I don't own Doctor Who and Harry Potter.

"You mentioned that magic is science, earlier." She said, frowning as she sat up. The Doctor nodded, putting his hands behind his head as some sort of pillow. "And in science, you can take elements away from mixtures and mix infinite amounts of elements together, correct?" The Doctor nodded once more and sat up, staring at Hermione, waiting for her to make her point. "So, technically, you could take magic away from a person. Theoretically, you could do the same to Voldemort. He would lose the Death Eater's support and you would defy a fixed point in time!"

This time it was the Doctor staring at her in shock and Hermione was the one smiling smugly.

...

"You GENIUS!" The Doctor cried out, jumping to his feet and then jerking Hermione up to join him. He spun her around in his arms, and then kissed her fore-head happily. "You utter, genius!" He muttered, stepping away and starting to pace, "How could I have not seen that before?" He muttered to himself.

"Never mind!" He finally cried out, spinning himself to face Hermione who was staring at him with amusement. "Do you want to go to muggle London?"

Hermione frowned and looked up at the Burrow which was completely dark, everyone having retired to their rooms already. "London? Har-"

The Doctor waved his hand to interrupt her, "Nope! Call me Doctor when no one's around." Hermione raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"People actually call you 'the Doctor'? Besides isn't that from that show... Er, Doctor Who? My friend watched it when she was small. Wait... are you the Doctor from Doctor Who? Come to think of it, there are several similarities."

"Weeellll, yes. They do." The Doctor said grinning at her. Hermione rolled her eyes. "And yes. As I told you earlier in this universe, my world is fiction, in mine, yours is. Therefore, it makes sense that my life is in television..." Well, that technically meant that when he left, Harry Potter would have to become the actor for the role of 'the Doctor'. Hermione seemed to mull this over. Finally she nodded in acceptance.

"What's your first name then? 'The'?" She frowned in thought, "Come to think of it... No parent would call their child 'the Doctor'. It's like calling your child 'the plumber' or 'the pothole repairer'. What's your real name then?"

"Er... Sherlock?" The Doctor said sticking his hands in his pockets, his right fiddling with the glasses and his other... wait was that a wallet? He didn't notice Hermione roll her eyes, as suddenly all his attention was on the small wallet that he had found in his pocket -

"The psychic paper!" He said kissing the leather wallet which held the psychic paper and holding it up at the sky in triumph. "How convenient." The Doctor said, lowering his arm and gazing at the little leather wallet which had travelled with him for so long and helped him out so much. He mentally thanked the TARDIS wherever she was and got a hum in response.

"H-Doctor?" Hermione said, making him snap out of his daze. Hmm, that seemed to be happening a lot lately. "What is that?"

"It's called psychic paper. Aaaaaaanyway! Muggle London, was it?" He said stuffing the wallet into his pocket. He had already revealed too many secrets tonight. Hermione looked baffled for a second at the sudden change of topic but went along with it.

"Won't anyone notice we're gone?" She asked, "And how are we getting there? Besides... It's dangerous for you, out there. Death-Eaters are still after you. What happens if Voldemort catches you?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, "Do you really think Death-Eaters, never mind Voldemort will be prancing around Muggle London, looking for me?" Hermione blushed slightly and nodded, eyes still looking worried.

"Why do you need to go to London anyway?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised. The Doctor grinned at her and tapped the top of his head.

"I, need a new fez."

Hermione blinked at him, apparently lost.

"A fez?" She asked slowly. The Doctor frowned at her lack of enthusiasm and adjusted his bow-tie.

"Yeah, fezzes are cool."

"Says the man who thinks bow-ties are cool." Hermione shot back, smiling playfully.

The Doctor frowned, "They ARE!" He said and started stalking towards the apparition point where he'd seen Dumbledore and Tonks disappear from last night.

"Ha-Doctor! Where are you going?" Hermione exclaimed, quickly jogging behind him, as quickly as her flip-flops would allow her.

"I am going to London, are you coming?" He said stopping right on the right spot and smiling mischievously as Hermione stopped in front of him.

Hermione eyed him with a frown, but then finally, reluctantly nodded, although her eyes strayed over the bruises on his face in concern. "If you insist on doing this reckless venture, you'll be doing it with me. Now, how are we getting there?" She asked.

"Apparating!" He exclaimed and her eyebrows shot up into her hair.

"Have you ever done it before?" She asked with a frown, as the Doctor linked his arm with hers.

"Nope! Should be easy enough!" And before she could separate herself from him, or even start arguing, he had already slipped into the vortex aka.: the nothingness as the wizards called it. Apparating was actually quite easy, well for him anyway. After all, he knew what the vortex felt and looked like.

They appeared in the Parliament square, both of them grabbing each other to stabilize. They ended up in a tangle right under Churchill's statue, which was glaring down at them.

"That's odd," Said the Doctor, gazing at the 'Churchill'. Hermione blinked at him, slowly standing up, to join the Doctor who was tapping Churchill's foot and she hit him angrily.

"You- you... Ugh, next time, warn me. Now, what's odd?" She asked, trying to ignore the fact that it was about ten o'clock at night, she was in her pyjamas, and there were hundreds of tourists around them still enjoying the glorious landmarks London had to offer.

"The statue. I distinctly remember Churchill staring at Big Ben, rather than at the floor... Or us." The Doctor muttered, more to himself. Hermione frowned, staring at the statue... She did have a post card at home she had meant to send to a friend but never did, with the statue of Churchill staring up at Big Ben.

"It might be... Nah," The Doctor muttered to himself, ignoring Hermione, letting his brain work at full speed. The Weeping Angels couldn't have followed him here, right? No, that wall had been opened for a split second, the angels wouldn't have had any chance. Shaking his head rapidly to clear it of all morbid and sad thoughts about Amy and Rory, he grabbed Hermione's hand (who let out a yelp of surprise) and started pulling her through the crowds which were looking at them oddly.

"Doctor!" Hermione finally exclaimed, pulling him to a stop and put her hands on either arm. She looked at him seriously, "I'm still in my pyjamas! And you still have bruises on your face!"

He blinked at her in surprise and gazed at her, a hand raising to touch his face, wincing a bit as he pressed. "Oh. Well," He shrugged, "Come on then!" He was about to start walking again when she stopped him.

"Doctor! Harry, listen. I'm in my pyjamas and we're in central London. There are tourists around, and they're all looking at us oddly. You look like you came out of a party - drunk and beaten up." A few tourists who had been staring at them, blushed and turned away. The Doctor sighed, took her hand and pulled her behind a tree where they were somewhat hidden from the tourists walking on the paths. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's clothes.

"No! Don't! The ministry will detect you!" Hermione whispered harshly, eyes darting about, as if expecting a ministry official to jump out of a bush. The Doctor sighed and loosened his hold on the wand slightly.

"The trace is obviously put on the mind, on your soul if you will, so when you turn seventeen, the trace instantly disappears. I happen a little older than that. Besides, the trace only works on humans and last time I checked, I was an alien. Weeeell, technically, to me YOU are the aliens." He muttered, trailing off slightly at the end. Hermione stared at him in thought.

"Wait... But how can you use magic at all then? And... How old are you?" She seemed steadily getting more excited. The Doctor grinned at her.

"Well, magic, as I have already told you, is simply energy. As a Time-Lord I have an immense amount stored in my body. Therefore, I am also able to use a wand." He paused for a moment, sinking in the happy expression on Hermione's face. "So if you will allow me..."

Without waiting for an answer he flicked the wand in his hand and pictured Hermione in jeans and a t-shirt, and proper shoes. Seconds later, a dressed Hermione was standing in front of him. She gazed at him in amazement and he was about to speed off again when she she stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.

"Er... Doctor, you still have the two bruises." She said, a smile creeping up her face.

"Ah... Well, I tried to get rid of them earlier. None of the spells worked. I'll go visit the twins tomorrow. They'll have something against it." With that, he bounced off, down the street. Leaving Hermione shaking her head, with amusement.

...

Eventually, after a very long search around the centre of London they found a small millinery called James Lock & Co. on St James's Street. It was a small, posh little shop which The Doctor had tried to avoid at first. Posh meant expensive. Expensive meant he needed more money and currently, he only had about fifty pounds left from Dudley's wallet. But Hermione had persuaded him to go in and look at hats. After all, there weren't many places in London where one could buy a fez.

Personally, the Doctor thought it was odd to have a shop like this open at eight o'clock at night... But then again, if they had a lot of shoppers at that time, it could be worth it. Either that, or they were vampires.

The shopkeeper was standing behind the counter, gazing at the two with narrowed eyes, as if afraid the two had come to terrorize the shop. Well, they weren't dressed in their poshest clothes... But they didn't look like homeless people either. Perhaps it was due to the two large bruises on the Doctor's face.

Finally though, the shopkeeper must have decided that they were worth something because he quickly made his way to them, hastily putting a large smile on his face.

"How may I help you?" The man asked, politely, still gazing at the two with a hint of suspicion. The Doctor grinned, "Ah, well, we're here to buy a fez for a party..." He paused, eyes flickering to Hermione who's eyes were flickering around the shop with excitement. Grinning at the shop keeper, he pulled his psychic paper out and flicked it at the man, mentally telling it to show the shopkeeper a royal id. The man's eyes widened suddenly, and he bowed his head quickly in respect.

"I beg your pardon, your highness. I didn't know it was you." The man straightened and stepped back, in a more respectful distance. The Doctor grinned at Hermione who was watching the exchange curiously, frowning a little. Her eyes flickered to the psychic paper the Doctor was putting into his coat pocket, then to the Doctor and finally the shopkeeper. She gazed sternly at the shopkeeper.

"I, am his sister. I'll have a bow as well," She said, raising her head and looking like she could indeed be of noble birth. The shopkeeper winced slightly, probably at his own 'mistake' and quickly bowed to her as well.

"I apologize," He straightened once more and gazed curiously at them, "If I may, your Highnesses, I don't believe I have ever heard of you..." He trailed off, wincing again, probably realizing that that could be interpreted as an insult. The Doctor chuckled, ignoring Hermione's nervous expression.

"Ah, we're a... slightly obscure branch of the family. Now, drop the 'your highness', and call me the Doctor, she's... Ms. Buckteeth." He trailed off, gazing at the hats around him pointedly and once more ignoring Hermione who was now staring at him with disapproval and slight annoyance.

The shopkeeper nodded quickly, smiling nervously, if a little confusedly. "A fez, was it?" He asked. The Doctor grinned and nodded. With that, the shopkeeper quickly left through a back door, muttering a short 'excuse me'.

The instant the door shut behind him, Hermione rounded on the Doctor, glaring at him.

"Your highness? Serioulsy? That was a really irresponsible thing to do!" She poked his chest harshly, "And that man probably just went to tell his superiors." She paused for a moment. Letting the Doctor digest all of that. He just shrugged. Bah, he'd gotten out of more difficult situations. She poked his chest again to get his attention, "Besdies... How did you convince Mr Cook that you are royal?"

The Doctor blinked at her, "Mr Cook?" She rolled her eyes.

"Yes, he had a name tag."

"Oh..." He was rescued from explaining the complicated theory of the psychic paper by the door opening again. The man - Mr Cook stepped through, holding a red, velvet fez in one hand, and price tag in the other (which he stuffed into his pocket).

"Er... Doctor, Ms... Buckteeth, I'm afraid my superiors (the Doctor smirked victoriously at Hermione, who looked away) are away on important business elsewhere in the country. I shall have to serve you instead." The Doctor ginned at Mr Cook and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, grinning as he accepted the fez and slipped it on his head, faintly remembering how River had blasted it out of the sky.

Hermione glanced at him and instantly broke into giggles. Mr Cook smiled at him, amused.

"Perfect!" The Doctor said as he looked into a mirror Mr Cook had found to hold up for him. "Yes! I'll take it." He said excitedly which only caused Hermione to fall into a further round of giggles.

The Doctor winced slightly at the thought of having to deceive this poor man who would later get scolded by his superiors when they found out that a Prince Albert his age, didn't exist. Well, some manipulation would have to be involved. So, smiling politely, the Doctor dived his hand into his pocket, gazing at Mr Cook pointedly. Mr Cook however, stopped the Doctor before he could even produce a ten pound note.

"No, no, no! Your Highnesses! It's perfectly fine. Consider it a gift. It'll be an honour for us at James Lock & Co. for you to wear the fez!"

The Doctor turned away when he saw Hermione's disapproving gaze on him once more, and thanked the man with a little bow of the head, the tassel falling forward slightly.

"Thank you very much, Mr Cook! I shall wear it with pride. Now, if you excuse us, we had a prior engagement."

...

Needless to say, as soon as they were out of sight of the shop window, both of them broke out in a run. All the way from the shop till they reached Buckingham Palace which was still swarming with tourists at half past eleven. With a tired sigh, Hermione slumped down on one of the benches littered around the square. Her forehead was shiny and her hair was sticking slightly to her skin, she looked up at the Doctor with a frown who was simply standing in front of her, panting slightly, but otherwise not looking very tired out.

"How-"

"I'm an Alien, Hermione. My internal body temperature is 16 degrees Celsius. (60 degrees Fahrenheit). And instead of having two lungs, I have a series of pulmonary tubes parallel to my lymphatic system." A pair of tourists who had been passing by, stared at the Doctor, then shrugged and continued walking. Hermione however was staring at him.

"Wait, but you showed me earlier that you have two hearts. An increase of heart beats per minute means a higher blood temperature." She muttered to him. The Doctor wagged his finger at her, grinning.

"Ah, but I am an alien." She just grinned at him. A few minutes later, when she seemed to have calmed down, the Doctor offered his arm to her. She quickly took it and they sped off down a nearby street which was mostly empty.

"So... Where to now, Doctor?" She asked as they rounded a corner, and entered a brightly lit street filled with people milling about. Several camera men were relaxing on the pavement, the others were on what seemed to be the set, filming something which neither the Doctor nor Hermione could see behind the crowd of working people. A small fence of had been set up at the entrance of the street, and unsurprisingly, a bunch of fans had turned up to catch a glimpse of the actors of the show.

Hermione and the Doctor stopped at the fence and she turned to him with wide eyes.

"A film set!" She exclaimed, glancing at the set again as if to assure herself that it was still there. Then, the crowd parted for a second and a man was revealed, wearing a tweed suit and a bow tie, looking exactly like the Doctor's 11th incarnation. Then seconds later, the little hole was sealed again as a camera man walked into their line of vision.

Hermione once more turned to the Doctor with wide eyes. "A Doctor Who film set!" She exclaimed. The Doctor grinned at her, and glanced around them; who knew a show about him could attract so much interest? Just as he was about to turn to Hermione to say exactly that, a woman dressed as a... Dalek, crashed into him. She chuckled as she straightened herself, "Er... Sorry, this costume is a little bulky, awesome cosplay costume by the way!" She said and turned away, continuing whatever conversation she had been having.

The Doctor glared at her, seriously, who would want to dress as a Dalek? That was basically like insulting yourself! Shaking his head to clear it from stray thoughts and unwanted memories which kept popping up, he grabbed his companion's hand and plunged into the crowd of fans, weaving expertly through it.

As they reached one of the barriers set up and a guard standing next to it, the Doctor pulled out his psychic paper, and summoned a happy grin to his face.

"'Ello!" Said the Doctor, showing the 'ID' to the guard whose eyes widened in surprise, "John Smith, from the BBC, I need to talk to anyone who's in charge here." At that, the guard frowned at him and his eyes narrowed sceptically and he grabbed the 'ID'.

"You shouldn't have used John Smith," Hermione whispered into his ear, "It's way too common." The Doctor shot a glare at her and turned his attention back to the guard who was now holding the 'ID' out for the Doctor to take back.

"Everything seems to be in order, sir," He said, eyes sweeping up and down the Doctor's body, "Although there was no need to dress up," The man said dryly. The Doctor's eyes mentally narrowed.

No one insulted his clothing.

"I'll have you know I think bow-ties are cool," He said icily.

"Er... Yo, the Doctor doesn't say it like that!" Said a male fan, dressed as the '11th' Doctor. He grinned at Hermione, "It's more like this..." He then tried to look at them playfully and adjusted his bow-tie, grinning and said rather loudly and in an odd accent, "Bow-ties are cool." The other fans around him looked impressed and a couple even clapped a couple of times.

Hermione leaned forward on her toes, and whispered into his ear, "You actually do sound like that, you know."

"I do not!" The Doctor exclaimed and stalked through the fence (which the guard had opened for them), closely followed by Hermione who was sniggering quietly to herself.

"Right, this way please," Said the guard, catching up to them after he had once more closed the gate.

"Are you mad?!" Hermione muttered to him, seeing that the guard was more preoccupied with leading the two through the large crowd of people who were milling about with cameras, make-up and scripts. "We're basically lying our way into every place. Besides, wouldn't it create some sort of paradox if they were to meet you?"

The Doctor grinned at her and whispered back, "There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line. And no. I'm not really meeting myself, just the actor who plays me... So really, it isn't me. If it were me, it would probably create a paradox. A paradox which would blow a hole the size of Belgium in the universe. I wouldn't risk doing that. So no, we won't create a paradox by meeting them."

She frowned up at him, "Could you make yourself any harder to understand?" Hermione muttered and seeing he was about to answer, she interrupted him quickly, "Besides didn't Oscar Levant say that? Ha! Plagiarism! "

"Weeeell, I said that first... I suggested the idea to him. So technically, he did plagiarism." The Doctor said grinning.

"How could he do plagiarism... If 'the Doctor' didn't exist in this world up until now?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. The Doctor blinked and stared down at her.

"Fine, I won't lie ourselves into anywhere ever again." He muttered to her, feeling defeated.

"Never... like never, ever, ever, ever?" She asked hopefully. He just grinned at her and raised a hand from behind his back with crossed fingers.

"Rule ONE: the Doctor lies." He ignored the annoyed glance sent at him, as he slowly sped up his pace to catch up with the guard who had now stopped at the edge of what seemed to be a set at the dead end of the street. The Doctor gazed at it with interest, never having seen a proper film set. Two actors who looked exactly like his '11' regeneration and Clara were standing across from each other, talking. One camera was focused on '11's' face, the other on 'Clara's', and another one was riding between them on rails. Behind them, the dead-end of the street had been transformed into a slump, with bins spread out randomly, some of them filled with real rubbish.

There weren't many people on the set, just the two actors, three camera men, a director sitting on a foldable chair, holding something which looked like a telescope, gazing at a screen intently. A man with curly dark hair, was standing behind him, arms folded behind his back, leaning forward also gazing at the screen making remarks every now and then.

"Their break starts soon, you should wait in the pavilion." The guard said suddenly, gesturing behind them, to a small white pavilion that had been set up, probably as a replacement for trailers.

Grinning, the Doctor patted the guard on the shoulder.

"Cheers, mate!" With that he slipped in through the flap, Hermione following him anxiously. Three tables had been set up, with benches on either side of each one, for the actors, camera men and well... anyone to come and take a break.

A fourth table was covered with stacked up plates, several cakes and thermos, probably containing tea or coffee. Smiling, the Doctor grabbed a plastic cup and poured some tea for himself, and a piece of cake.

The Doctor grinned at Hermione as he sat across from her, one hand holding a carton cup with steaming, hot tea and the other holding a carton, disposable plate with a generous slice of cheesecake on it. Hermione rolled her eyes as she took him in, but accepted the proffered plate anyway.

"So, what's the plan?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow. The Doctor chortled quietly.

"Well... Basically, plan a is to complete plan b." Hermione just blinked at him, not really fazed. Ah, she must be getting used to his antics. Pity.

"Fine, what's plan b, then?" She asked finally after a long pause.

"Er... well, plan b is... erm..."

"You have no idea do you?"

"Nope!" The Doctor said, popping the 'p'. "Well, I was just hoping to go with it, you know."

"No I don't know," Hermione muttered with a sigh, "That's so typically Gryffindor."

"Really?" The Doctor asked with a small frown, "I always fancied myself a Ravenclaw... Or even a Hufflepuff." Hermione scrutinized him quietly.

"You mean you'd rather be a soft-hearted, mediocre student?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. The Doctor scratched his fore head, fingers massaging his scar briefly, remembering all of a sudden that all those horcruxes were still around.

Blinking, he returned his attention back to Hermione, he'd deal with all of that later, when he had his TARDIS, then he would have all the time in the universe in his hands.

"Well, no. But I like Hufflepuffs, they're honest. A virtue I seem to lack. Besides, isn't that a little too much prejudice for a prefect, Hermione?" He said with a grin. She blushed slightly and a small wave of triumph fluttered through him, 1:0!

"You know," Hemione finally muttered after a long pause, "It's odd to think that this morning we were greeting you in the twins' room, criticizing your bow tie and new style in general." She paused, "It somehow oddly suits you." She smiled, ignoring the 'I told you so' look the Doctor was giving her, "Harry is coming back, isn't he? I don't mean to sound rude, I like this version of you too..."

The Doctor took off his fez, placing it on the table, he attempted to look more serious and tried to transform his smile into an understanding one. Putting one hand over hers, the one that was fiddling with the corner of the carton plate, and gazed into her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll do everything in my power to bring back the old Harry," He paused, "You'll see, we'll find something together and if the Doctor Who series screenwriter believes us, we can recruit him as well."

"What should I believe? And what's this about recruiting?" Came a Scottish accented voice from the doorway... er... flap entrance. The Doctor stood up quickly and spun around, arms flapping around like a great magician about to perform an outstanding trick.

A man was standing at the entrance, arms folded and staring straight at the Doctor. His hair was dark, curly but short; the eyes intelligent, like those of a genius - mad yet strangely, simultaneously alert. Standing behind him were the actors who played 'Clara' and the '11th Doctor'. They were both regarding the scene with curiosity, eyes narrowed in the case of the former.

"Aha!" The Doctor cried out happily, "We were talking about how we hoped that the screenwriter, who I can assume is you, will believe us when we tell him, that we are time-travellers, well, actually, I am, she hasn't done that yet. I'm kind of missing my TARDIS-"

"Er... Don't you remember third year? Time-Turners?" Hermione asked from behind him. The Doctor turned his head slightly, eyes still fixed on the screen writer.

"Ah, yes, right," He turned back to his audience, "Fine, she's done some time-travel. Ooooh! I'll have to examine some Time-Turners! You're unknowingly accessing the Time-vortex, and travelling through it! Isn't that exciting?" His tirade was interrupted by Hermione's cough. He clapped his hands together, trying to get back on track.

"Right, sorry. Too many thoughts travelling through my mind right now; too little time. Ah... Doesn't that sound odd coming from me?" He paused for a second, taking in their expressions, which raged from shocked, to confused, to creeped out. "Right, moving on. We were hoping you would also believe us when I say that I am the Doctor from an alternate Universe, and I was thrown into this one (with my TARDIS which I can't find right now, for some reason) in which my life is a television show and my favourite book series is reality. Meaning Harry Potter and magic is real!"

He turned to Hermione who had by now risen and was standing by his side.

"How did I do?" He asked, a grin stretching from ear to ear. She rolled her eyes.

"Worse than I expected," She replied, causing his face to transform into a mock-pout and turn to his audience with a mock sniff. "You could have been about 20% better if you didn't flap your hands about." She continued, "You can speak without flapping your hands about, can't you?"

The Doctor frowned slightly, "Of course I can!" He finally exclaimed, flapping his arms about to emphasize his point. Then, suddenly, he paused, and let his arms drop to his sides, scowling at Hermione who was smirking triumphantly at him. 1:1

Turning his attention back to his audience, he noticed that '11' was sniggering quietly to himself, although he kept eyeing the Doctor with concern, probably because of the bothersome bruises. 'Clara' was glaring at '11' and whispering to him to shut up. The screenwriter was still standing there, arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. Then he seemed to suddenly shake his head mentally, because he suddenly straightened and his face returned to a sort of stony suspicion. The screen-writer uncrossed his arms for a few seconds, only to clasp his hands behind his back, probably trying to look more authoritarian.

"Right, you two... great show. I'm sure you practised a lot." He paused, staring straight at the Doctor, forehead crinkling in thought, "I don't know how you got past the guards... But you've gotta leave now. Our break is almost finished and we still have to film quite a lot scenes. Besides... Doctor, if you were who you say you are, who you probably aren't... Wouldn't you have a TARDIS, never mind a double heartbeat?"

The Doctor's eyes twinkled as he stared at the man, "First of all, Mr..."

"Moffat, Steven Moffat," The screenwriter interjected quickly, slightly disbelieving, as if confused someone didn't know his name.

"Right... Mr Moffat, I'm quite sure my friend here and I didn't practise anything. Secondly, I have psychic paper," A this he held up his wallet, containing the psychic paper. Catching Hermione's disapproving frown, he quickly tucked it back into his jacket pocket. "And lastly... Time is relative... And I have a time-machine. Weeeellll, I can't find it at the moment, urgh, fancy that! A Time-lord without a TARDIS, how much more tragic can it become?" A sour expression graced his face for a moment.

Moffat frowned at him again, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth becoming even more prominent than before, making him look slightly older and more unapproachable.

"And fourthly!" The Doctor exclaimed, wiggling four fingers in the air, right in front of his face, "If you would have bothered to take my pulse, you would have discovered I do have a double heartbeat. Well, double the humans'." He said with a challenging air about him, "And if you don't believe me, go ahead and take a pulse," He held out his right arm, exposing his wrist to the group.

Then, just as Moffat and the two actors behind him were about to step forwards, the flap of the tent flew open, causing the unsticking velcro to create a loud noise which made everyone in the tent jump up in fright.

"Christ! David!" 'Clara' exclaimed, a hand resting above her heart with a mock-shocked expression. The Doctor was about to move forward to shake the man's hand when suddenly, he took the newcomer in, shocked as he saw that the man looked exactly like his 10th reincarnation. Then, before the Doctor was able to utter anything, David had already stepped away from the 'doorway', to let someone else through.

A woman stepped through, dressed in a pale pink jacket with a cream-white blouse underneath and tight jeans gracing her long legs. Her hair was blonde and shoulder-length, her eyes were dark green and surrounding them was quite a lot of eye-liner which made them sand out all the more.

The Doctor gulped quietly, letting out a silent whimper only Hermione seemed to hear, judging by the concerned glance she shot him.

His eyes shot towards David and back to Rose, and it struck him. The coincidences were just too large to ignore. He was in that universe. Those eyes... They were the eyes of the Bad Wolf.

When he finally opened his mouth to speak, he was barely aware of the fact that his eyes were filling up with tears, and he muttered in a broken voice, "Rose."

So there, I bet none of you expected that. I hope that wasn't too sudden.

Anyway, just tell me what you think in a review... and whether you want David and Rose to stay for long... Possibly any old faces?

I hope you enjoyed that... And well, have a good evening/afternoon/morning/night XD.