Hello everyone, this is a Whouffaldi AU. I hope you all liked Deep Breath. And if you haven't seen it yet, well, it's not spoilery so no worries. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. Don't hesitate to comment, I can take anything ;) xx Callie

As always, the BBC owns Doctor Who.

Somewhere sacred and unholy

Clara doesn't believe in ghosts. She is rational like that and often congratulates herself for her level-headedness in every situation. ( everyone needs to tap themselves on the back once in a while, it's only healthy)

When she formulates the idea to her friend Nina, she doesn't understand.

" I mean, it's no use to dwell on the past when you still have the possibility to move forward."

Nina thinks her cold and maybe, she doesn't quite believe her. It's been four years, yes, but no one should be that immune to the loss of one's parent. Especially when the other parent buries himself in conspiracy theories to lose focus on a rather painful reality. Clara avoids Nina's stare. She doesn't want to be judged and suddenly, she's relieved that they're not returning to the same university. Maybe a geographical separation will be for the best. They've lost their grip on each other, as if words weren't quite sticking anymore, didn't matter when it came from each other's lips. Clara knows that she is not alone to believe they're not as inseparable as they used to be. As if she were growing a new skin, with more sensations and less marks than before ( her wounds are deeper, carved on her bones. A permanent scar, never growing out and easier to conceal if you're not looking. Nina definitely has to go. She sees too much already ).

Nina sighs and lets the matter go ( and so much more, they both know. Maybe in another life, they'll be better at it ). She hops from Clara's bed, her feet noiseless on the floor. Light as a feather, she always was. Something she envies her. She's always been more pushy than graceful, a force to be reckoned with, her mother said. Clara sometimes wishes she didn't have to be so forceful about things. She wants to belong, not fight her way through life. She sighs as well. Polar opposites, they are. And gravity is pulling them apart, claiming the right of nature over the will of spent friendship. Nina goes, a goodbye in her smile and a farewell in her kiss. Be good, be amazing. Au revoir, auf Wiedersehen. She doesn't hear the front door closing after Nina. She expires. Alone at last.

Her return to the university campus is a blessing. Her dad accompanied her with his car, hugging her tightly before leaving her in front of her flat. She loves him, really. He doesn't dwell on goodbyes. He knows they love each other and leaves it at that. He lost the ability to voice his feelings for her since he lost Ellie. And conspiracy theories, as Nina says, are only an expletory to a deeper wound. She doesn't watch the car fade into the distance.

One of the girls with whom she shares the student housing is already there. Her name is Martha, she studies medicine and she's nice and quiet, always neat with her belongings and Clara appreciates her. The feeling is mutual so they hug as they greet each other. The summer has been long and strange and they are glad to be back to something familiar.

They speak quietly, unpacking and rearranging the flat to make themselves believe they never really left. Later, Rose will arrive, her crazy-haired boyfriend shadowing her with her luggages. His name is John and he loves her with a passion. She cannot remember not knowing Rose without John, even though she arrived four years earlier, single and broken-hearted ( she once spoke of a boy from her estate for whom she left school to form a band with. He almost stole her future as he stole her money. She never mentioned him again.). Rose saved herself and worked hard and long to earn her scholarship. Clara loves her for that. Both of them study astronomy and sometimes, she hears them talking about space through the walls. She envies them. This ability to love one another so completely the outside world seems in sync with them.

Rose kisses her boyfriend before he leaves for his own flat when a flamboyant red head appears in the living room. John cries " Ginger !" and Rose laughs. The new girl's name is Amy and she looks at John as if he'd just grown a second head right in front of her. " Scottish and ginger, problem ?"

"Nope !" and he leaves the flat, still laughing at his own joke. Rose apologises for him. "Rude and not ginger, that one. Just ignore him."

They all finish settling and Amelia – "no, really, Amy's fine"- has a bottle of Scotch is her bag and proposes a toast. " To my new flatmates. You may all be English but no one's perfect. Sláinte !"

Their first evening back is spent in the living room/kitchen. They get to know Amy, who is studying journalism, and Amy gets to know them. Their friendship is instantaneous, and soon, they forget she hadn't been part of the group ( Nina never really was a part of the group. She had another crowd, and Clara is grateful for it. She won't have to spend time with them now, pretending to like obscure bands and dysfunctional poets.).

Amy speaks of her parents and her boyfriend Rory– who apparently knows Martha from a few shared lectures- and how she's never going back to the last flat she inhabited with the scariest girls to ever walk this planet. " It's like they could sense I wasn't looking at them and they would creep on me from behind. I swear, they looked like perfect angels when I first met them until the flat got dark during the first night and they turned into creepy monsters." They all laugh because they're drunk on the more than half-finished bottle and Amy is a great story-teller.

They all agree to go to bed a bit after midnight, all worn out by the moving in and out of the day. Clara sleeps well for the first time in weeks. Summer never agreed with her. She remembers being at a party and one of Nina's friends telling her she was a girl of winter, in dire need of a ray of sunshine if she didn't want to be turned into a glass sculpture. Nina had laughed and Clara had kept silent the rest of the evening, pondering on the veracity of his words. (One day, He'll tell her : "You're not, you never were. You were just frozen in time, needing to be brought back to life.")

The following morning, she wakes up early and she goes out to buy some croissants and coffees to go for the girls. The campus is not yet full of its students, the arrivals lasting until tomorrow, so she doesn't wait long and she enjoys the stillness of the university's architecture. It's an old building, full of history and stories, waiting to be told and to be lived. She smiles a bit at herself, it's like the leaf in her book. Her mother would have appreciated the thought. The craving of baking soufflés takes her by surprise and she thinks she'll indulge herself, later in the day. She arrives back at the flat and two of the girls are getting up. The smell of coffee and pastries wakes the third one and they all thank Clara, really, you shouldn't have, with their mouth filled and their eyes still half-closed. Clara sits at the table with them, and she truly believes this year will be something special.

She arrives early. It's a habit she's been cultivating for some time, lateness never agreed with her ( oh, but if she knew… ).

The lecture hall is.. impressive to say the least. It's the first time she's ever been to this side of the building and feels like it's bigger on the inside ( maybe it is). They told her last year about being in fifth year. You discover a whole new side of the university and suddenly, you're not sure whether you're still in the same dimension. She can see why now. She's in the old wing and it's still feeling its age, proud and silent, her feet resonating on the old stones. The room follows that same idea. Dark wood and books everywhere, the eye cannot escape the idea of learning and deep rooted traditions. She chuckles. Universities have a knack to make you believe in parallel universes. The outside world is not so well organised, so obviously one-track minded. She relishes in the feelings of her worn books beneath her fingertips.

When she first arrived, four years ago, she had hoped university to be a distraction from the outside world. A cocoon to settle in, until maybe, something better comes out of it. She might just be on the right path, feeling the shell weaken as she awakens to new horizons. She can almost taste it in her mouth, feel it coursing through her veins, this new desire to become something more, something with a purpose. She blinks and her heart skips a beat, almost breathless. She scares herself these days, not knowing how to feel without drowning. She hides herself behind a wall of self-control but the façade is slowly crumpling down. She doesn't know why. She is helpless, wishing for a hand to steady her. But she reaches in the void, losing her balance. When will it stop ?

Lost in thoughts, she doesn't hear the door opening. The rattling of throat startles her. The sight of the man in front of her desk, blindsides her. Studies say that falling in love takes less than three seconds to the human brain.

It takes her less than two to give up the arms and surrender.

Ghosts may not exist but it doesn't mean you can't be haunted. Even by flesh and bones wearing dark suits and impressive stares.

" I didn't know we allowed students before professors. It seems rather rude, miss…"

She gets up, instinctively. He smiles. She prefers not to qualify it. She might not come out alive of the room if she does.

" Oswald. Clara Oswald. I'm so sorry. The door was open, I didn't know we were supposed to wait for you to come in first. I'll leave if you- "

He laughs. Genuinely. It's rather beautiful.

" Nah, don't worry. It's just that I'm not used to such earliness, even on the first day. Are you trying to make me look bad ?"

She smiles, relieved. He is Scottish and a bit rude and she decides she likes him. His gaze unsettles her but she recognizes a challenge when she hears one. His tone hides a dare she cannot resist to take.

" Not at all. I simply never cared for tardiness. I can't help it if you can't compete with my eagerness to begin class. I'd like to say I'm sorry if it makes you look bad but I have a feeling you don't really care about your own reputation, so I won't."

He chuckles, crosses his arms and leans over, interested. She has his attention and he acknowledges that she passed a silent test. However, he doesn't let go of the matter so easily :

" And what makes you say that ?"

She takes him in, her eyes slowly inspecting him. She observes but doesn't discriminate. Her answer is all cheek and no judgement.

" Well, the boots and the magician outfit are pretty good dead giveaways."

He wants to reply but a few students come in before he has a chance to do so and leaves the matter at that.

"For the moment" his eyes say.

After this rather unfortunate interruption, the rest of the students trickle in and soon, the hall is full and noisy. While waiting for everyone to settle, he writes on the blackboard in capital letters :

" THE DOCTOR, MEDIEVAL LITERATURE"

A hand is raised and a boy with a big sweater and a rather impressive set of piercings voices the first question :

" Doctor who ?"

The Doctor gives a good look at the rest of the hall, stopping his stare an additional second on Clara before answering to the boy :

" Good question young man, but I won't tell because it's boring and if you listen well to what I'm going to teach you this term, you'll know that names have power and I'm not sure I can entrust any of you with such a responsibility just yet. Someone else ?"

A blond girl, petite and polished, asks :

" Why the Doctor ? Why not The Professor ?"

"Two reasons. One, The Professor is boring and predictable and two, as during medieval times, you should never trust a doctor, because he might amputate your leg instead of curing your flu. Which is the first lesson you shall learn today. Never trust anyone. Not me, not the books, not the pretty girl sitting next to you, not even your mother."

Laughs erupt in the hall.

" Can we trust ourselves ?" A redhead, in the back.

" Certainly not. If you do so, you won't make it pass next week, and then, where would I be, staring at an empty hall, with no one to amputate of the brain ?"

The rest of the lecture goes on, the Doctor magnetic and impermissible. Everyone is charmed and scared at the same time. He tells everyone that he does not make concessions. If you do not belong in his class, he won't hold you back. He already warns them. In two weeks, half of them will be gone. Either because he wants you to or because you'll be too scared to show your face. Clara can see he's telling the truth, even if some of the others don't believe him. "Wait and see. For next time, I want a three page paper on what you think defines medieval literature. Don't show up if you haven't done it. I never forgive laziness. It's your worst enemy and if you're not ready to overcome it, then you're not ready for this class. I'll see you all next week. Miss Oswald, a word if you please."

Shit, is she out already ? She didn't think he'd be resentful over their little interlude before class. She waits and carefully approaches his desk after the last student makes his exit.

"Is it the red lapels ?"

She doesn't follow.

"Excuse me ?"

He looks right into her eyes, as if he were genuinely concerned by what she might answer. She stills herself.

" That makes me look like a magician ? I thought it was rather nice to have a splash of colour with the dark suit but if you think it's too much.."

She laughs, relieved. So it's going to be like that, eh ? The cheek comes back with a vengeance.

" You know what, I was wrong. It's perfect on you. Keep the boots though, or people will really believe that you're into the dark arts."

He knows he's won, somehow. And Clara wonders what's the prize ( She is. She doesn't know, she doesn't see yet. He doesn't know either and he'll slap himself several times over for such an obvious mistake ). He follows through anyway and falls into his own trap :

" And the boots are preventing such belief ?"

She spokes and he is doomed :

" No, but it does make you look cool"

Something holds, but what, they ask simultaneously :" Well, I'm glad. You should have seen my predecessor. He thought bow ties and fezzes were the next big thing."

She leaves the room, still laughing. He watches her.

Reviews are love ;)