Feeling the pressure of running out of time is unusual for me, and thus extremely annoying. Ever since that man showed up in my life I've been able to drop everything, make a side trip to somewhere impossible, and still be at work before anyone else. But I'm a distraction, the one he runs to when his other, more regular, companions are caught up in their own everyday lives. Lately he's been stopping by less and less. He's changed several times, and his stories of his adventures without me have gotten darker.

Not that his adventures with me are without danger, but he's never had to reset the universe on my watch, just saying. Just like with every other companion, I'm sure, he has left his mark on me and my life. Where once there was a sparse apartment littered with scientific works and notes there are now novels and little keepsakes. I never would have had rocks from the moons of far off planets if it weren't for him. I also would never have purchased, never mind read, half the books now littering the place. Harry Potter was something I had particularly avoided, it was devoid of reason, guided my magic and legend, things that had no place in my structured existence. But after an expression like I had kicked a puppy and the tale of how 'Expelliarmus' had saved Shakespeare I agreed to try it.

I agreed to try many things because of him, and I went many places, in many time periods. I was used to the unusual, took it in stride, craved it. So when on my way to work, laptop bag thrown over my shoulder, coffee in hand, I saw a rip in the universe down a back alley I didn't hesitate. I didn't get close to it, I wasn't an idiot, I knew what happened the last time these appeared. I probably made a strange sight, standing there gaping at the rift. Skinny jeans, a plain black long sleeved shirt, brilliant red converse, laptop bag, and coffee in hand I looked like a college student at the very most.

My brown hair was short and done in a ponytail, still slightly wet from my shower. In my hurry this morning I had forgotten my cellphone. I was regretting this. I didn't want to step away from the rift long enough to find a payphone where I could call in the Doctor. Someone needed to stay here and make sure no idiot got themselves erased from reality. Plus, I was unsure if a normal payphone would reach him. My phone was of the special variety that could reach through time and space. A payphone most likely would not cut it. I was itching to launch myself into the investigation of all of this, not particularly caring if I didn't show up for work at all today because of this. Perhaps if I waited long enough for the crowd to thin out-

I took one step away from the rift, intending to check and see how many people were still out and about this fine Montana morning, when I felt a tug at my left ankle, the one that was still slightly sore from that run in with the Sontarans on Tarmen VI. I blinked in surprise, and the next thing I knew I was looking at stars.

My brain came up with the automatic conclusion that the rift lead to open space and that I had 15 seconds left to live. There were worse ways to go, I suppose. Worse views to have as a last sight. It was a fitting end, really, for a companion to the Doctor to die in space. And how uncreative is that name, anyway? 'Space'. Seriously. It's like calling every part of your house 'room', rather than 'kitchen' or something. It's very vague. All thoughts on the naming aside I was slightly disappointed in all this. My mother had always said that chasing my science would get me nowhere but dead in a ditch. In a way she was right, but hell if this isn't the best sort of ditch to die in.

I was contemplating why the stars were moving past me so quickly if I was just floating around, when I hit something. Hard. The little breath I still had was knocked out of me, and I was sent tumbling. I stayed on the ground where I was, sucking in air and confused as to how that was possible. When I had composed myself enough to look around I was lost. Not Montana. Not a foreign planet. The cars were driving the wrong way, yeah, but that doesn't exactly scream 'mars'. It does scream 'UK', though. That was useful, the Doctor frequented there. If the rift was dropping people off randomly in his prime territory then it was likely his readings would lead him to me soon enough and I would be given a lift back home after all this was over. Hell, maybe I could sight see while I was here.

I shifted myself to a sitting position, rubbing at the knot on the back of my head, a side effect of my rough landing. It was strange how calm I could remain at this, but honestly, stranger things have happened to me. Getting transported to a country I've always wanted to visit in the modern era on a day when I wasn't feeling like working anyway was no problem at all. The universe was giving me mandated vacation time, and who was I to tell the universe no?

There was likely to be issue with the authorities if they got here before the Doctor, but I didn't doubt that he'd show up eventually. The various governments of the world had me on file as affiliated with him, I had some measure of diplomatic immunity due to that. No worries. So why did I have a bad feeling about this?

That was answered for me when there's was a disconcertingly loud crack, followed by the appearance of four individuals wearing flowy black garments that tickled my memory slightly. Not good. They appeared human enough, all middle aged men, one with no hair at all, two balding and the youngest one who was still keeping his, greying though it was. Baldy had a large nose and a sneer, also a short stick that he was pointing directly at my face. I crossed my eyes to look at the tip of it, most likely looking extremely stupid in the process. Not that I cared, I had a set number of examples to work off to show how to act in a situation like this. It wasn't even a gun.

I uncrossed my eyes, looking up at the guy, giving the stupidest grin in my repertoire.

"Hello."

Baldy grimaced, voice higher than I had anticipated.

"Get up, you're making a scene. How stupid can you be, apparating like that into the middle of London." The grumbling continued but silenced at the confused look on my face. Apparate? Like, as in Harry Potter style apparate? They did appear out of nowhere...no, magic, not a thing. In all our travels we've seen science, not magic, at play. The bald man's cohorts weren't looking as sure of themselves as they had before. One of the balding ones, the oldest of the group, turned to the bald man,

"Leon,maybe it's a muggle."

It? I am not an 'it' thank you. Before I could protest the youngest one stepped forward, waving his very own stick at me. This one was longer than 'Leon's', made of a much darker wood. The man frowned, stepping back.

"Can't be a muggle, too many readings. This ones been around some serious magic for a while, I'm getting all kinds of things, time energy mainly."

I raised a hand like I was in class, waving it slightly. The balding man rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face.

"Yes my dear?"

I put my hand down,

"What's going on?"

The man looked back to his youngest cohort,

"Maybe she's with the American Ministry, I hear they have quite the division for research into time turners. Goes no where of course, but it exists all the same."

Leon glanced down at where I was watching them, absently fiddling with the strap to my laptop bag. My coffee had been lost in transit, which I was starting to lament.

"I still agree that this one is a muggle."

I raised my hand again, and the same wizard pointed to me, looking amused.

I put my hand down, deciding that playing along was the best way to stay safe in this case. For all I knew it was a planet that resembled Earth, with a species that resemble humans, the sticks were tricorder like objects, and muggle was some sort of slave that I should avoid being labeled as.

"What's a muggle?"

Leon looked back to the other men, his face practically screaming 'I told you so' but the younger man stepped closer to me before pausing. He knelt down on my level, revealing he had serious grey eyes and a birthmark on the left side of his neck.

"How did you get here, miss? Can you tell me your name?"

I nodded,

"My name is Marissa, Marissa Swift, and I...I don't remember."

That seemed like my best bet. If this really was somewhere with magic then I didn't want to be branded a muggle, obliviated, and tossed out somewhere I had no history and no past, and then not remembering how I got there enough to find a way back. However, if this was a practical joke, most likely with the Doctor behind it, then I was going to strangle him for making a fool out of me and putting me through this.

The young man looked skeptical,

"You don't remember?"

I nodded cheerily, glancing around at them.

"Nope. Do I know you guys?"

His eyes narrowed and he swiped his wand/stick at me again, this time sighing in exasperation.

"She's hit her head, most likely when she landed. Probably an apparition gone wrong. If she's really from America that would explain it. Attempting to apparate overseas is near impossible, add youth and a head injury and it's a miracle she knows her own name. We should get her to St. Mungos."

St Mungos. Wizarding hospital. In a book. I was still unsure of this, but it's not like it was completely impossible. I've seen some shit in my life, ending up in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, most likely would not be the weirdest. It'd be in the top ten, but definitely not the weirdest. The young man grasped my upper arm, hauling me up easily.

"You're a bit on the light side, Miss Swift."

I nodded my head cheerily.

"I run. A lot."

Understatement. The Doctor did the math one day about how much we ran on average per adventure. He told me I didn't want to know. His expression was enough to make me leave it alone.

The man turned to Leon,

"Should we side along Apparate her? I don't know what that could do to a head injury and with her recent incident-"

Leon waved his hand in the air,

"Just take her. We'll stay here and see to obliviating whoever saw this girls blunder."

There was no warning other than a quick 'hold on' and I couldn't breathe. It was mostly like the books described it, and the severely claustrophobic sensation wasn't one I wanted to repeat any time soon. I sank to my knees on arrival, taking in the sight of a new floor under my feet. Gone was the pavement of a back alley in London. Now it was all smooth tile and the scent of disinfectant.

It was real then. Magic was real. I was in the Wizarding World. I could hear someone trying to talk to me, but my breath wasn't coming back to me, I couldn't respond. I had enough time to think about how the excited the Doctor would have been to be here before the loss of air got to me. I was seeing spots, gasping for air like a fish when someone shoved something down my throat. It was slimy and tasted absolutely terrible. Blackness was near instantaneous. I didn't have time to protest.

A cliche way to end a chapter, but it would make sense after what she's been through to pass out. Reviews are welcome.
Note-This chapter will update much slower than my other fic, River of Opals.

~TimeLordOfPie