;w; it's been so long since i've updated and I'm so sorry! Unfortunately, real life decided to hit me in the face, and I am sure will continue to do so T-T Rest assured, I will try to get this back into a faster updating schedule, because now the fun part begins! hehe I'm sorry if this seems like crap. Just trying to get back into the swing of this fic, and Nine is actually really difficult to write. Anywhoooo, I won't bore you any longer.

Since it's been so long since I last updated, it'll be a bit of a hassle to list everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed since then, so I'll just give a big thanks to those who did. You guys rock! :D

As an added bonus/apology, a longer chapter AND a preview snippet of the next!

As he was the first to be sorted, Ten, or rather, 'John Noble,' as he was supposed to be, sat down with an air of grace that belied the situation that he was stuck in, and promptly thumped his head onto the table. The applause petered out soon after he sat down, most of the school turning their attention back to the Hat for the next sorting, though there were still some hushed whispers and glancing in his direction.

As for Ten, who was still very much in range to see and hear some of those whispers, raised his head enough to send some of them pointed looks and that promptly quietened them down.

In the meantime, he had sandwiched himself down in an empty space between someone he believed to be Terry Boot and another person he also presumed to be Mandy Brocklehurst, presumably sitting close together due to the closeness of their sorting.

Said Terry Boot gave a broad grin and held out his hand for Ten to shake, which, upon picking himself up, he did absently, now in a more viable position to study… well, the whole hall.

"Nice going back there, mate! Name's Terry. Terry Boot."

Ten blinked, meeting the other boy's eyes. He grinned. "Nice to meet you, Terry! I'm the D- John! John Noble! But that's enough about me, what about you? Do they ever call you Terry the terrier? Terry the Terror? No? Is that just me then..? Just me then…"

Terry withdrew his hand, sparing an odd look to Ten for a moment before he gave a small laugh. "Has anyone told you you're a little strange? And for your information, no, they haven't ever called me any of those."

"Well, they ought to start, then, shouldn't they? Actually, scratch that, those are terrible nicknames- Terry is just fine. I suppose it's short for something, isn't it?"

Just then, their little conversation was stopped by a disapproving look from Mandy. "If you two are quite finished now," she started dryly, "I believe the Headmaster has something to say."

Terry looked indignant. "And what's it to you?-" But he was rather rudely hushed by Ten, who, instead of wanting to listen to a trivial disagreement, that, in all sincerity, he hadn't the slightest care about, wanted to hear what Dumbledore had to say.

"Welcome!" the professor began, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few word. And here they are!

"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

As everyone began clapping, Ten clapped along eagerly as well, even if he couldn't help but feel just a little bit disappointed that… that was just it, and there wasn't anything extra.

Terry leaned in to speak with him over the sound of dying applause. "Bit odd, isn't he? What do you suppose those words meant? Oh hey! Look! Food!" And he promptly became distracted by the sudden appearance of the Welcoming Feast.

"I don't really know…" Ten said aloud, pausing in consideration for a moment before he shrugged and began filling his own plate. If he had hoped for peace, it was short lived.

"So you're the new kid who stalled out the Hat, eh?" Ten blinked, but then his brain caught up with his ears.

"Oh! Uh, if that counts, yes?" He turned to the person who asked. Going from the shiny badge pinned to his robes, he was a prefect.

The prefect chortled. "Yeah, pretty sure it does, kiddo. Welcome to Ravenclaw! Name's Robert Hilliard. You're..." He paused for a moment. "Noble. John Noble, yeah?"

"Actually, no-" Ten was about to correct Robert, but suddenly remembered his cover name. "Actually nothing! Eheh, yes. That's right. John Noble, me alright. Very ordinary, normal, name. John Noble." He amended with a rush of rambling words, and promptly stuffed his mouth with a bread roll as to keep his mouth shut. Terry shot him yet another odd look.

"Right," Robert seemed somewhat put off by this strange First Year, but shrugged it off. "So, welcome. Again. Here in Ravenclaw, I think you'll find that we actually care about our studies," A disdainful look thrown towards the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. "Unlike some others."

"Ah well..." Ten began to say something, but he trailed off, and Robert took that as a chance to continue, addressing the general population of new students.

"So, if all you firsties look to the Head Table," Some shuffling as the first years craned this way and that way to get a look at the table at the front of the hall. "You'll see Professor Dumbledore, that's the headmaster with the white beard. Over there is Professor Flitwick, the short one, and he's the head of Ravenclaw house."

There were some doubtful murmurs after that, but Ten wisely kept his mouth shut. Robert only smirked and kept on. "And he was a champion duelist in his younger days, so don't underestimate him."

Which seemed to be trick, as it snapped shut the mouths of all the doubters. The nearby upper years all laughed or smiled. It seemed that this was a regular occurrence. Someone from down the table asked why he was so short, but was quickly hushed by someone close to them. This elicited another burst of laughter.

"There's always someone, isn't there?" Robert shook his head, smiling gently.

With a little reprieve, the Doctor glanced up, observing the stars visible through the transparent roof. It didn't look all too different from the night sky in his home universe, that was for sure, but from what he could see, there were a few that didn't show up.

Next, he risked a look towards the other tables, first observing the hunched form of his future incarnation at the Hufflepuff table. While he hadn't pegged himself for someone overly fair or loyal, it was nice to have an indication of how his future was coming along.

Meanwhile on the Gryffindor table, he had to suppress a cringe. He knew how… abrasive that particular incarnation had been, and even though he fit them to a T, he was sure to butt heads with a few others.

"-So, what happened back there?"

"Whuh?" He suddenly found himself in the middle of dessert, and also the subject of a question in which he didn't quite hear. Ten scrambled to remember from amidst the distraction of a few minutes before.

"Oh…! Oh! You mean the Hat?"

Sounds of confirmation. Nearly everyone sitting around him seemed to be watching him. He ran a hand through his hair, which, despite all odds, still remained as uppity as always.

"Er, it wasn't that much. The Hat, er, we talked. About things, like houses, and me, and things like the houses."

"Well, yes, but what about?" It was Robert who spoke, gazing at him with interest.

"Well, if you were expecting an intellectual conversation, it wasn't that. It was more like, what about this house? And I went, maybe, And then, what about this one? I went, well, maybe. And you sort of get the picture, until the Hat just sort of," He gestured helplessly, "Pushed me into this house. And that's that."

Everyone gaped at him, and he scratched his head nervously.

"That can't be it," Someone said faintly. "I mean, the last time anyone was there for that long was Professor McGonagall, and she was only two houses."

It was the only warning he got before clamour broke out, and Ten was feeling somewhat overwhelmed when a voice cut in.

"Alright, alright! Break it up! You can ask about this all later or research it or something, you dirty bibliophiles."

There was a rush of laughter at that, and soon everyone returned back to their dessert. Robert chuckled, because, as it turned out, it was him who had broken up the commotion.

"Watch yourself, kiddo."

Which left Ten back to a bowl of half eaten banana ice cream.

He finished it, wondering what to do now, but was thankfully saved by the Headmaster's address.

If he knew anything about himself, then they all would definitely want to investigate the third floor corridor sometime soon. He thought for a moment. Would the protections even be in place yet? Yes? No?

Would it interfere with fixed time? Well, there was only one way to find out… but probably not just yet. There were other things to discover, like secret passages and hidden rooms and things!

But the announcement of the new teacher had him feeling slightly on edge. Why did he get the feeling that something was going to go wrong?

Ten was one of the ones to sing loudest at his table, not quite sure what tune he had taken except that it didn't sound any out of place than the others.

On the way to Ravenclaw Tower, Terry tapped him to get his attention.

"Oi, John. Was it true? What you said about the Sorting Hat?"

"Hm? Oh, well, yes, I suppose." Ten decided to leave out the details about who he really was. "We discussed the pros and cons of each house, and whether or not it was the best for me. Oh look, we made it!" He said with slight surprise and delight.

Robert stopped at the bronze eagle knocker, turning to face the assembled crowd of first years.

"Alright, listen up you lot. The way this works is this. You're the house of the smart kids, so put that brain to use." He nodded to the knocker.

"The knocker will ask a question, a riddle or something like that, and you answer it. If you're right, you get in. If you're wrong, you try again or someone else who knows lets you in. Simple as that. Now then, anyone want to try?"

There was a silence for a little while. It seemed like no one wanted to go up and be asked something they got wrong.

"I'll do it!"

Ten stepped bravely ahead with a slight sense of déjà vu. Had this, or something like it happened before? Robert beamed.

"I like you more and more, kiddo. Up you go, give it a try. Even if you get it wrong, you'll learn from your mistake.

As Ten approached the knocker, it blinked to life. "How many seconds in eternity?"

Ten stopped, not noticing the interested looks of everyone there. Well, how should he answer it? There was the story of the little bird, but maybe that would be too long?

"Well," he said slowly. "I would say none. Eternity is a concept of forever, and forever is intangible, to say the least. Everything has an end, it's just that most never get to live through it, thereby assuming that there are things that never end. Thereby assuming that time is just an illusion."

"Well reasoned." The knocker said, perhaps with a touch of approval. Then, the doors swung open, inviting the group into Ravenclaw Tower.

It was a large, open space dressed in tones of blue, bronze and white, decorated with arched windows and elegant looking bookcases and furniture. A marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood proudly in the room, just as it was described. It was with a jolt that Ten realised that the ceiling was painted with stars that reflected onto the carpets. It gave him a slight flash of homesickness and accompanying wanderlust, but he brushed it away.

Robert clapped his hands together, addressing the first years. "Well, then, welcome to your second home! I'm sure you're all very tired, so I invite you all to explore at your leisure tomorrow. Now, off you go! To bed! Just go through the door beside the statue, girls on the right and boys on the left."

With that, the group split for their respective dormitories, a most of them exchanging 'good night's and the occasional 'good job' to Ten on his answer for the door.

Unlike the others in his dorm, Ten didn't start getting ready for bed straight away. Instead, there was a window set into the wall beside his bed, which he just stood by for a while, looking out over the grounds.

"You alright mate?" It was Terry, who had settled on the bed next to his, looking at him quizzically. Ten smiled a little, not looking away.

"Yeah… Just, reminds me of home…" He said softly. It was true. While he'd never say so out loud, the view of faraway mountains and the school grounds reminded him of Gallifrey more than he cared for. "Sorry."

But Terry had already fallen asleep, leaving just him awake in the room. He spared the window one last glance before he himself settled in for the night.

Next to having been sorted was Eleven, or more accurately, 'John Pond-Song', which he still wasn't over. Whatever cruel twist of fate that had given him that name, he cursed. So what if he was married? And had travelled with his in-laws? That wasn't any reason for his name… was it?

But he cleared those thoughts as he approached the Hufflepuff table. There was a little shuffling at a point, and a face popped out, waving him over. Without any particular place to sit and also not wanting to be rude (good heavens he was rude enough normally), he took a spot, or more accurately, wedged himself into a space between two boys, one of which sincerely looked as if he did not want to anywhere near Eleven, and scooted away, turning up his nose at him.

With a little more space, Eleven budged over just a spot, letting the other boy who was not opposed to his presence, and whom Eleven assumed may be Ernie Macmillan, hold out a hand for him to shake, which he did with great gusto.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan." Which did confirm Eleven's suspicions, though he inwardly dreaded what might come next. "Who might you be?"

"Ah," He started, drawing out the word. He cringed inwardly as he replied. "Er- Pond. Song. Pond-Song. John Pond-Song, that is."

Ernie blinked, frowning slightly. "Pond…Song? Is that a wizarding name? I'm not judging," He quickly added. "But it's just a bit, well, unique, isn't it?"

"Oh…" Eleven rubbed his head, smiling awkwardly. "You could say that, I guess… But no, not really. Not a traditional name, no."

"Ah, well, that's fine with me! We're all friends here in Hufflepuff, no matter your family ties!"

"…Speak for yourself…" The boy who had edged away mumbled. In fact, any normal person wouldn't have caught it, but, seeing as Eleven wasn't a normal person, he did, though he didn't actually choose to comment on it.

A girl from beside Ernie leant over and lightly hit him on the arm, laughing softly. "Isn't it a bit early for that sort of house pride? We've barely even started!"

Ernie himself laughed in return. "It's never too early! Might as well get started on it early, right?" At Eleven's somewhat confused look, he motioned to the girl, who waved. "This is Hannah Abbott. I met her on the train earlier. I'm quite glad we're in the same house, actually."

Hannah nodded. "It's quite nice to see a familiar face." She suddenly brightened, gesturing to the Head Table. "Oh look! I think they're going to speak now!"

And indeed, she was right. After the headmaster had made his speech, the food suddenly materialised on the table, a scrabbling of hands reaching for whatever they wanted. Eleven himself sat, somewhat dazed, but shook himself.

He scanned the table, looking for one particular item… or technically, two. With no progress being made, he turned to Ernie, who had a mouthful of potatoes. "I don't suppose you've seen any fish fingers and custard, have you?"

"Wha'?" Ernie swallowed, taking a swig of what was probably pumpkin juice. "Erm, no. Very sorry…" And went back to eating.

Eleven sighed. Perhaps a trip to the kitchens would soon be in order. Instead, he helped himself to some Yorkshire pudding, which, while wasn't fish fingers and custard, was an acceptable substitute, considering he did practically invent the thing.

Well, it was an acceptable substitute up until the point where he was suddenly reminded of days past with the Ponds… which were admittedly bittersweet. He stared glumly down at the leftovers, and sighed, pushing it to the side of his plate. It suddenly didn't taste all that good anymore.

Instead, he simply pulled a bit of whatever was closest onto his plate, never minding if they weren't meant to be eaten together. He had set a precedent for that anyway.

Soon enough, the plates finally cleared up as dessert took its place. At this point, Eleven was feeling somewhat better, and so, he took a helping of custard, which, even without fish fingers, wasn't bad in itself. In fact… he grabbed a bowl of jelly babies, taking a moment to blink and wonder as to why they were there in the first place, and tipped almost the whole lot into the custard.

It wasn't fish fingers, but he never did grow out of jelly babies anyway.

The others around him watched in some horror as he mixed it all up, and taking up a spoon, ate the mix. Ernie looked faintly sick.

"John… I don't… I don't think those are supposed to go together…"

Eleven dragged out the spoon from his mouth, waving it at Ernie. "Oh, pish posh! How would you ever know if you haven't ever tried it? I know for a fact that it tastes perfectly fine- Perfectly divine, in fact!"

"Well…If it suits you, I suppose it's each to their own…" And dessert carried on as if nothing had ever happened.

A little while soon after, the desserts vanished, and everyone quietened to hear Professor Dumbledore.

"Ahem, just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

A little part of Eleven hadn't really registered the 'forbidden' part. Rather, he was thinking more of whatever could be in there, excluding what he already knew to be there.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

Quidditch? He hadn't ever considered it. Should he try it in future…? Well, Eleven decided inwardly, it couldn't hurt to try. Besides, flying! On brooms! Flying brooms! But it was what was said next that caught his attention, and what followed after that.

"There has also been a slight change to the staff roster. As I am sure our older students will recall, the subject of Astronomy has long since been taught by Professor Aurora Sinistra. However, she will be on leave for some time, as I recall correctly, she is departing on a sabbatical. As a result, Astronomy will be taught by a new professor." Dumbledore paused slightly. "He has not seemed to have arrived yet, but I am sure he will be present very soon. I hope you will all give him a warm welcome in your Astronomy periods."

There was something niggling in the back of his mind, even as much of the student population gave collective groans and murmurs of discussion. For one, a sabbatical right on this year was far too suspicious…

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Oh! Exciting! Never mind the fact that he knew why, if there was one thing that he always wanted to do, it would probably be to play against that giant chess set. But then Eleven paused, frowning slightly. Would that mess up the timeline? Was that a fixed point? It was hard to tell… At any rate, he could probably drag his other selves into it and get their advice. Not that he needed it.

It was with a start that he realised the school song had suddenly started, and with a grin, sang along in an ancient power ballad from two galaxies over.

There was a moment of peace after the Headmaster dismissed them before the houses burst into chatter as they prepared to retire for the night.

Actually, it took a bit of dedicated tapping from Ernie before Eleven noticed and followed sheepishly along with the rest of his year. They passed by the kitchens on the way down to the Hufflepuff dormitories, something which Eleven decided to keep in mind for later, or, possibly tomorrow.

Eventually, the came to a stop in front of some barrels, the prefect leading them showing them the pattern to tap on which one, which, thankfully, Eleven did memorise. The barrel swung open, and the first year Hufflepuff cautiously flooded through, with the exception of one boisterous Time Lord, who bounded ahead.

"Oh, that's lovely! Reminds me of the time I spent living with otters…" He half mumbled to himself at the end. The rest of the year group was now flooding forward with interest, chorusing in 'oohs' and 'aahs'.

The common room definitely had the cosy-homely feel. It was round, sort of like a badger's set, fittingly, decorated with different plants and such. All in all, Eleven thought he might like it here.

Soon enough though, the gawping came to an end, and the prefects directed them to their dorms.

Naturally, the first thing Eleven thought to do was to do a great flop onto the bed he'd claimed as his own. He craned his head up to look at the others he'd be sharing a room with for the foreseeable future, haphazardly stringing names to the faces.

One of them would be Justin Finch-Fletchley, another was Ernie, one that was probably Zacharias Smith and er… he wracked his brain, trying to remember the name that was called… Wayne… Something or other. Whatever.

Everyone else wasn't too interested in what he was doing anyway, more interested in looking through their trunks for probably their pyjamas, which occurred to Eleven, that he probably should as well.

Groaning slightly, he dragged himself to the edge of the bed and opened it. He groaned even more when he saw where they were. At the bottom. He wriggled, sticking his whole arm in, trying to get them.

Normally, he would have been able to reach them with ease, but while he was stuck as eleven years old? No way. Eleven strained a little more, trying to reach it… and fell in headfirst.

"Whaargh-!"

On the bright side though, he landed in a pile of clothes, so it softened his fall considerably. Shaking his head, he rifled through the pile and pulled out the pyjamas. Shrugging slightly, he decided to just get changed there. It would save him the trouble of climbing back up and then changing there.

With that done, he finally emerged from the trunk, only to find that everyone else had already fallen asleep.

Eleven pouted slightly, but sighed. Humans and their sleep.

He fell back onto the bed. It was a little unclear how much sleep he'd need, considering that normally, he seldom needed any at all, but, he supposed, eight hours a week (at least, Earth equivalent), like he had when he was this age back on Gallifrey would do…

He yawned. Maybe he'd best get started on those eight hours.

'John Smith' was not feeling all too happy right now.

Okay, so sure, Nine had been sorted into the house for heroes, but never let it be said that he felt like one.

Still, it was over and done with already so he might as well start dealing with it.

He settled into a spot beside Hermione Granger, who did not seem to notice, or, if she did, didn't care. Nine slumped slightly, watching the procession go through of the remaining first years. There wasn't anything particularly odd about it, and it just sort of left him wishing, very faintly, for something to happen for once.

Eventually, the whole Sorting process finished, the Headmaster's words along with it. While he had no idea what he meant by those words, he appreciated them all the same.

With the appearance of food, but still lacking anything more interesting, Nine resigned himself to just pulling a bit of anything off the platters and onto his plate.

It was a little bit before the conversation turned to something of note, namely, Nearly Headless Nick, or, as the ghost preferred, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, which, Nine wondered distractedly, how he even got that name.

Nine looked down for a moment, intent on dealing with a stubborn pea when he suddenly realised how quiet the table had gone around him. He looked up, witnessing Sir Nick's almost-but-not-quite beheading for himself.

"Is that it?" He said flatly. Eerie, yes. Something he hadn't seen before, no. Everyone blinked at him. Sir Nick himself shot a somewhat irritated glance at Nine before he righted himself.

"So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindor has never gone so long without winning. Slytherin have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."

Everybody craned to look over at the Slytherin table, where the ghost in question was sitting.

Somebody asked about why he was covered in blood. Nine had half the mind to answer when he remembered that he didn't remember, and so, settled for a sigh. Maybe he would find a way to get his hands on the copy of the books… Wherever his next incarnation had stashed them.

The rest of dinner rolled around without anything else of particular note. After all, if your table had Harry Potter, wouldn't you want to talk to him instead of everyone else?

When the food faded and dessert began to take its place, only then did Nine find himself, albeit it unwittingly, the centre of attention. The rest of the first years were staring at him expectantly.

"What?" He asked crossly.

"Oh, nothing, nothing!" Seamus Finnigan replied hastily. "It's just, we were talking about our families and all that, so, we wanted to know, what's yours like?"

Nine stared blankly at him for a moment before someone else cut in.

"Did you know those other two? The ones that went to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw? The, er, one with the big chin and the other one who stayed under the hat for so long."

"They're," Nine thought quickly, searching for a response. Brothers would be too strange, childhood friends, except that came with even more lies that he'd need to remember. But…. "Cousins. We're cousins. There was a joke with our parents and that's the story of Johns. Come from all different walks of life, we do."

"That's it?"

"What else d'ya want?" He pointed the banana in his hand at them, and they ducked their head, leaving Nine with a satisfied smirk.

There was a brief period of peace, but it was broken soon enough. Nine shot a sideways glance at Harry, who had suddenly clapped a hand to his forehead, no doubt something to do with the scar.

The Time Lord followed his gaze up to the High Table, frowning slightly. There was Snape, of course, and Quirrelmort, though technically he shouldn't know that, but there was something else that was off about the whole picture. Was it because someone was missing? But who…?

"Sorry to interrupt," he cut into the middle of Percy and Harry's discussion, both of whom blinked at him. "But up on the High Table. Is there someone missing?"

They all looked towards it. Percy's brow furrowed. "Actually, now that you mention it, you're right. There, on the far end. There's an empty spot. That's usually where Professor Sinistra sits, she teaches Astronomy," he added for Harry's confused look. "But she's not there… Maybe she's just ill or something."

"Right…" Nine was doubtful. There was definitely something odd here.

But, Professor Dumbledore had already begun his announcements, of which, he was surprised to hear, and no doubt along with some others, the sabbatical of Professor Sinistra. Alright. That settled it. Tomorrow at breakfast, he'd gather himselves up for a discussion. The Stone could wait.

And when it was time to sing, he could say with absolute certainty that he did NOT join in.

The whole proceeding eventually finished, leaving the first year Gryffindors to follow Percy through the masses of the rest of the school, up the marble staircase and other doorways and things.

Even as everyone else stared at Peeves and his walking sticks, Nine just crossed his arms, staring expectantly at the poltergeist, who did nothing more than cackle and dive bomb them. Fortunately, he had the reflexes to push Neville aside as the walking sticks clattered down on where he would have been. They rolled for a bit and promptly dropped off the edge of the stairs.

"Be more careful, mate."

Neville flushed, looking away in embarrassment. "S-sorry. T-thank you."

Nine sighed with just a touch of exasperation. "And don't stutter. You know who stutters? People who're sorry for themselves. You're not sorry for yourself, so kindly de-stutterise."

"Sorry." Neville mumbled, and that seemed to be that.

This could be the start of something great.

In due time, they came up to the Fat Lady's portrait. "Password?"

"Caput Draconis," pronounced Percy clearly, and Nine stored that away for later. It wouldn't do to forget it, even if he didn't deign to remember other things.

The portrait swung open to reveal a hole in the wall, which led to the Gryffindor Common Room, complete with its cosiness and… quite a lot of red. An alarming level, actually. And gold as well.

However, there wasn't too much time to observe it, as they were shortly ushered along into their dormitories.

The Gryffindor boy's dorm was located at the top of the stairs, red being a very prominent colour.

The assembled boys all looked exhausted, with the exception of Nine, who didn't look as dead tired as the others. They all wandered around the room, locating which trunk was theirs and doing any necessary swapping for favoured beds.

"Who's this one with the circle-thingos?" Nine glanced over to Ron, who was looking dubiously at the Gallifreyan trunk.

"That's mine," Nine went over to it, eyeing the Gallifreyan on it. He tried not to think of it as a dead language… considering he was still alive…

"Why's it got circles?"

"Call it a family tradition, and that's all you're getting out of me."

"Sui-t yourself mate…" Ron yawned halfway through his sentence, ambling away in search of his own trunk.

Nine flipped open his trunk, digging through a layer of things to find some pyjamas. While he hadn't expected to sleep much during his stay, the side-effects of being stuck in a de-aged body probably meant he'd need to on a semi-regular basis.

Still, he didn't need to spend the entire night resting. As the others turned in for the night, Nine clambered down into the trunk, silently thanking the fact that it was bigger on the inside.

The Time Lord picked a random textbook off from a stack to the side. Some light reading wouldn't hurt, and with that, he turned open the page and started reading, intending on taking his time.

It was maybe an hour or two later before he himself got out of the trunk for the four-poster bed. By that time though, everyone else was already asleep, and the room was filled with sounds of snoring and the occasional shift in covers.

Chapter 7, 'Disco Dancin' Astronomy'

'-The new astronomy professor's... weird, to say the least. Anyway, he's asked us to keep him secret until you have him on what, Wednesday?"

"-Oh, please, it's just looking at stars. You know who looks at stars professionally? I do, we do! And we don't even get paid for it!"

"-He has these crazy things, oh whatever. You'll just see when you get there."

"-My job is to teach you the names of these balls of gas burning thousands of light years away from you and where they are, not officiating your wedding vows. If you want to go kiss or whatever it is that you humans do, go do it somewhere else where we don't have to see it."

"-My father will hear about this!"

"-Oh shut yer yap. The only thing he'll be hearing about is a fail, because you can't just go and look at pretty little lights in the sky. What is it then? Do you have other pretty things to look there?"