With a grin, he pulled out of her mind, restarted his heart, dressed himself back in his own clothes (which he found in the bedside table) and left the infirmary, leaving a very confused nurse staring up at the ceiling as she composed herself again.

...

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, as she underlined a sentence in her textbook, nostalgically wishing she had a text marker. Apparently, according to her transfiguration textbook, it was possible for one to transfigure or conjure a book... with actual content. Usually, when one transfigured/conjured a book, it came back blank.

Reading through the text again, Hermione spotted the spell at the bottom, and instructions next to it on how to preform it. Apparently, one had to picture the book in great detail - one had to know how each page looked like - what was written on it. Picturing one page was already incredibly hard - how was she supposed to memorize a whole book?!

Her concentration was cut short though, as a sudden hush - seemingly like a blanket - covered the hall. Raising her head slowly, she focused on Ron for a second (who hadn't noticed anything, as usual, and was munching away at his syrup sodden pankakes), and then her attention was moved to the only other moving being in the whole room - Harry. And he was skipping.

It was vaguely disturbing to see Harry - a generally serious, mature friend - skipping... actually skipping from the doors of the great hall, and down to the end of the Gryffindor table, without a care in the world, and a mischevious glint in his eye.

There was this air about him... of a suddenly very powerful, very intelligent and dare she say it... sassily sexy man. And very unlike Harry, a voice quietly said in her mind, but she ignored it, focusing instead on Harry, who had already flopped down on the bench next to Ron.

Now that he had come closer and Hermione could get a real look at him, she noticed how although his eyes seemed livelier than before, and his stance seemed to radiate more confidence... his eyes had changed. For the worse. There was a sort of shield there - a wall, seemingly blocking out any emotions that could be transpired via the eyes. And although Harry was smiling - grinning even, with a sort of un-Harry-ish glee, no emotions seemed to reach his emerald eyes. They were so cold... so full of fury, that left Hermione's bones tingling, as if a cold storm had settled upon her head, leaving her soaked and shivering.

Closing her textbook, as she knew she wouldn't get anymore work done before classes began, Hermione steepled her fingers under her chin, wondering how best to formulate her questions. Before she could even open her mouth though, Harry's had already rattled off. She vaguely noticed that the volume in the great hall had risen again and although evreyone was conversing quietly, she could still see the furtive looks everyone shot them.

"Yes, I am fine. No, Pomfrey wanted me to stay but I escaped. No, seriously, I'm fine. Oh... And the morphine is still wearing off." Even his voice sounded different. It wasn't that the tone had changed, or the pitch... it was the attitude behind it that seemed more manipulative and Machiavellian. He seemed hyperactive too... energy was practically oozing off him, and influencing the speed of his speech - which was considerably quicker than usual.

"Harry! Bloody hell - what happened? Hermione wouldn't tell me," Ron trailed off, his gaze having switched over to Hermione, accusing and slightly annoyed.

Harry grinned as if the most delightful thing had just happened, and leaned forward as if to share a secret. "I. Was. Possessed!" He said in an excited whisper. Ron leaned back and exchanged a perturbed look with Hermione, who was vaguely satisfied that Ron had picked up on Harry's strangeness.

"Oh yeah, and I have to take occlumency lessons from now on... whatever that is. Well, according to Dumbledore, it's something involving the art of shielding one's mind. Oh! Look, classes starting soon! Gotta go - I need to grab my bag." He paused for a second. As if considering something, then his eyes grew serious and he turned towards Ron, "Oh, and can you ask your dad, kindly mind you, if he can send me some wires, a mobile if he has one, and a small toaster?" Almost instantly, Ron mouthed 'wires?' at Hermione.

And then Harry was gone - almost as fast as he had come, leaving both Ron and Hermione with open mouths staring after him. Ron was the first to react. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat.

"...Has he gone bonkers?"

...

Hermione kept glancing at him... All through DADA, and frankly it was getting annoying. He'd always disliked know-it-alls, they were always so.. know-it-all. One exception had been the Doctor. He'd been smart... but in a challenging way. He didn't like know-it-alls like Hermione who believed they knew everything but really knew nothing. People like her needed a Socrates to shock them into reality.

"Mr Potter! I demand you pay attention to me!"

The Master raised his head quickly, attention switching from the complicated Gallifreyan mathematic/physic equations he'd been working on, to The Toad dressed in pink, standing at the front of the classroom. Out of the corner of his eye, he vaguely noticed Hermione whisper an accio, and suddenly the piece of paper he'd been working on disappeared, leaving a clear scroll underneath.

The Toad looked agitated, and looking around at the amused faces around him, the Master concluded that she had probably been calling his name for the past several minutes.

"Uh... yeah?" Some people were grinning now - probably not really accustomed to having a rebel in class. The Master had always been a rebel, he and Theta had always annoyed teachers, broken rules, and then talked their way out of trouble. There had been that one time when...

The Master blinked in shock when he felt Hermione stomp on his foot - the nerve of that human. That puny human!

"Detention Potter!" The Toad shrieked. "Be at my office at seven tonight!" The Master rolled his eyes and switched his attention back to his scroll, scowling when he remembered that Hermione had taken the paper away from him, leaving the scroll... probably so that I can take notes, The Master noted with a mocking tone.

"What is this?" Hermione said in a harsh whisper, pointing at the paper, now in her hand. The Master glanced up at The Toad, noting that her back was turned.

"Give it back," He said seriously, as he held his hand in front of him.

"Mr Potter!" The Master leaned back, rolling his eyes in annoyance as 'his name' was called again. "Is there a problem, Mr Potter?"

"No." He said through clenched teeth, getting more annoyed by the minute.

"No...?"

"No, Ma'am." He corrected.

He couldn't wait till the end of this lesson.

...

Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, couldn't believe her eyes... and ears. Harry Potter, the best seeker Hogwarts had ever seen, was sitting in front of her, and had just told her that he would no longer be playing Quidditch cause he wanted to concentrate on his studies. Since when had Potter become so nerdy? It had become public knowledge by now that Potter was bad in pretty much everything except DADA and Quidditch... and now he wanted to study instead of play Qudditch?

Of course - many people often decided to quit extra-curricular activities in their fifth year - during their OWLs. But this was Potter. He loved Quidditch.

Raising her head from her lunch, Angelina's head swivelled up and down the Gryffindor table looking for Potter. To her displeasure, he wasn't there (now he was skipping lunch? What the hell had happened to him?!) Weasley and Granger were there though, both sitting at the table, ignoring the food and seemingly involved in a very intense conversation - judging by the way they had both leaned across the table, and were retaining intense eye contact.

Had everyone gone mad? She had always thought the day that Weasley stopped eating was the day of the end of the world.

Frowning, she muttered a 'be right back' to her friends and stalked down the table to Weasley's and Granger's spot. Almost the instant she sat down, she noticed Weasley grimace slightly and throw his hands under the table as if to massage an injury. Presumably, Granger had kicked him in the shin to shut him up. Granger's face split into a kind and polite smile and she rose an eyebrow.

"Hello... you haven't seen Harry - have you?"

Granger and Weasley exchanged a look. Right. Secrets and the Golden Trio. They always had them.

"Eh... No he disappeared after DADA. I think he went to the Owl Tower." Granger said with a shrug. Angelina snorted and passed the letter to her.

"I just got this by owl... Please tell me you know something about this."

Granger accepted the letter with a confused frown which slowly turned into a small 'o' as she reached the end of the letter. Silently, probably in shock, Granger passed the letter onto Ron who wasn't so inconspicuous with his surprise. He let out a shout of surprise then turned red when half of the great hall turned to look at him.

"No sorry... I... I didn't know that he was going to quit." Granger said quietly, already staring of into the distance as if thinking about something else.

Angelina let out a breath of frustration and stood up.

Oh, she was going to find him and convince him otherwise. Gryffindor would never win the cup without him... and she wanted to win it so badly.

...

The Master schooled his features into a calm mask of boredom as he knocked on The Toad's office door. This simple fact threw waves of nostalgia at him, as he remembered the time when he'd been young and he'd attended the academy. Theta and him had been in trouble so often... they'd been in detention so many times, the Master had lost count after the beginning of their second year.

Come to think of it, Hogwarts and the academy were similar in so many ways. The houses were similar... the people even more so, hell even Dumbledore was like his old headmaster. In a way, Voldemort was like Rassilon. Rassilon had been afraid of their headmaster as well.

Before his thoughts could take him farther down the road of nostalgia, the heavy oak door opened, revealing an incredibly pink room. With a sigh, the Master strolled into the office and took his place at the extra table, not bothering to pull out a quill, remembering perfectly (from Harry's memories) how detention had gone last time.

"Good evening Mr Potter. Your detention last week seemed to go well - you have stopped telling lies." She paused and pointedly looked down at the Masters left hand which still displayed the words "I must not tell lies". Then pulling out her quill, she set it in front of him.

"However. Your blunt disrespect to authority figures still needs to be rectified. Therefore, tonight, you will be writing the following line, I will show respect."

The Master involuntarily snorted to himself, and just looked innocently up at her when her piggy - no - toady - eyes zero-ed on him.

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"Nothing ma'am. Just noting how incredibly moronic detentions like these are. I mean if you want to belittle students... why not use a legal method. Personally, I believe this to be incredibly foolish. Imagine if a student, such as Draco Malfoy tells his father what... you forced him to do in detention. I do not believe that would go over well. As a student, I shouldn't have much power... But unfortunately for you, I am the Boy-Who-Lived and the public, loves me. If I claim that you use... shall we say - illegal rectification methods, you will be instantly thrown into Azkaban." The Master stood up slowly, smiling at her politely, letting his voice hypnotise her into submission. "Now. You will do as I please. You will not give me any more detentions... and just for your sake, and seeing as no one will ever deem you attractive - please stop using that hideous make up. Now, if you'll excuse me - I have more important things to do."

The woman blinked once, twice, and collapsed on her chair, nodding frantically. The Master smirked charmingly at her, and patted her on her head.

"Good night pet."

...

The Master had always been one for action... movement, hyperactivity, anything that involved 'not moving still and just simply thinking'. He found though, that this incarnation of him - the one he'd been forced to regenerate into, seemed to like it a lot. Yes, he was still hyperactive most of the time, but it seemed that his old age was suddenly catching up to him.

After DADA he'd found himself running, running towards a quieter place - the Gryffindor common room (sometime in the middle of the night) - somewhere where he could think. He'd always needed an audience... but now, he felt strangely reluctant to have all the attention shifted onto him.

A thought hat been plaguing him since he woke up... How had he come into this new universe? It was obvious that it was another dimension - the energy around him felt different... just not from his universe. It also strangely didn't 'taste' like earth energy. Something deeper and more ancient.

What could have caused him to force regenerate anyway - without him noticing? The last thing he remembered was him directing all of his energy at the Time-Lords... in particular, Rassilon. Oh, that bastard... at least he was dead. Well... probably.

Maybe the backlash of energy had caused him to regenerate... perhaps it had been what had sent him into the other dimension as well.

He was startled from his reverie as suddenly, he felt two people pass by him and slump into the small sofa across him. Steepling his fingers, the Master opened his eyes, barely having realised he'd closed them in the first place.

Ron and Hermione were both staring back, identical serious looks upon their faces.

"Harry we need to speak to you."

To the Master's surprise, Ron had been the one who had spoken. Usually on subjects like these Hermione had been the one to breach a topic. Now it seemed, Ron had taken over that role. Examining them, the Master noticed they both looked slightly worn out, as if they'd been running about for some time now... And Ron was holding a brown-packaged box in his hands.

"Your behaviour is... not-you, Harry," Hermione continued n a sort of condescending voice which frankly, Harry had no wish to hear. "...We just want to know wether everything's alright."

The Master frowned inwardly... Had he been that much different as Harry? Well... Apparently so. Scratching the back of his head in a hopefully 'Harry-way' he smiled back at them, although sneering inwardly, and muttered a typical "I'm fine."

Ron rolled his eyes and passed the box to the Master. "Yeah. You're always fine. I sent a letter to my dad earlier - and he managed to put the stuff you needed together. Uh... A few wires... a mob-mobile, was it? and a toast." He paused before looking down at the box, "Wait. No. A toaster."

The Master blinked in surprise... Had the owl flown that fast? How had Ron written a letter that fast, he'd barely had a few minutes before the beginning of class.

Ron seemed to realise what he'd been thinking about because he quickly answered, "I already had a letter ready... I just had to sent it. Dad used a post owl anyway - they're much faster. Anyway, good night. It's past twelve you know."

He disappeared up the stairs, leaving Hermione alone with the Master who had already opened the box and was gleefully looking at all the objects inside. Now he could finally build a sonic wave signal to get someone from his universe to notice that there was someone stuck in this one. It was Time-Lord technology... and hopefully, the Doctor would somehow catch the signal and believe that it was the Time-Lords.

Hermione seemed to let out a sigh of defeat and rose. "How was detention? I suppose you went there while we were patrolling the corridors, right?"

The Master shrugged and grinned back up at her, "Oh... It was eventful."

Hello... Long time no see...

Anyway, I hope you liked it.

If you notice anymore parallels between the academy and Hogwarts, please tell me... It would be a great help!

Before I start rambling - I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas (urgh, sorry that's a little late) and a Happy new Year! (hahah oops, that's a little too early.)

OMG THE CHRISTMAS DOCTOR WHO SPECIAL WAS AWESOME. THE DREAM INSIDE A DREAM INSIDE A DREAM THING WAS BRILLIANT. PETER CAPALDI IS JUST AMAZING. Slightly disappointed about Clara though.

bye and until next time!