Chapter 3: In Which Things Become Even More Confusing

Some time later, Doctors Two, Three, Five, and Eight had arrived, and all fifteen people in the room (the Doctor percentage was now at 60%) were having a cheerful and occasionally violent ("HE TOOK MY SONIC" "WELL IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU'RE SO SHORT" "OI AT LEAST I DON'T HAVE A BOW TIE" "OI BOW TIES ARE COOL" "NO. THEY'RE. NOT." [sounds of a brief scuffle]) talk about apparently randomly chosen topics when the door to Professor Dumbledore's office creaked open and Hermione Granger cautiously looked in.

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall sent me to—" she broke off suddenly to stare at the room's occupants, eyes growing wide. "Er, Professor, why are there a bunch of Doctor Who characters in your office?"

Martha gasped. "Oh. My. God. YES!" She turned to Ten. "Please please please tell me that is Hermione Granger!"

"OH, YES THAT IS!"

"OHMYGODTHISISAMAZING!"

"...Hold on a minute, you. You're Ba—"

"Oh, for Rassilon's sake, how many times do I have to explain, I am not Barty Crouch Jr, I'm from a parallel universe and I just happen to look like him, it's all wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey, Hermione, you're clever, you're the brightest witch of your age, surely you can figure this out."

Hermione looked around. "Okay…. But why are there a bunch of fictional characters here?"

"You should talk," Nine said. Rose smacked him.

"Okay," Thirteen said. "As Sandshoes—" Ten glared at her. "Oh, fine, as Porcupine On A Stick over there said, we're from a parallel universe."

"Yeah, like in the (very true) multiverse theory, there are a bunch of alternate worlds out there," Ten said. "Some of those worlds correspond to certain works of fiction—"

"— And the popularity of those works creates a semistable rift or crack in spacetime that we can hop through without damaging either world or our TARDISes too much," Eleven said.

"Yep! And, so, in our universe, we're real and your adventures are in a series of books—"

"Which are really very very good, by the way," Four said.

"And in your universe, we're the fictional ones."

They somehow managed to exchange a complicated four-way version of a high-five. Nine shook his head.

A/N: Your ever-so-wonderful author is fresh out of ideas, so… that's it for now. There might be more added later if the elusive plotbunny returns.

Sorry for my... uh, Techno Babble, which is an insult to all established science. And the fact that this is short as heck. Oops.

Thanks for reading this very interesting thing! —[GingerBeer]