Work Text:
One shots (DW/HP):
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, 1995.
Something strange was happening.
That was the only thought in the young girl's head as she paced back and forth in the common room, a radio sitting on the table in front of her.
Her two best friends were sitting in the armchairs that were in front of the fireplace, their blue and green eyes watching as she paced back and forth, her thoughts buzzing.
It first started a week ago.
It was Professor Umbridge who discovered the stone angels, a bunch of them on the third floor corridor, nobody knowing where they came from.
Trust me.
Those words were true.
Professor Dumbledore casted many different spells on them, but couldn’t find anything, the statutes appearing out of thin air.
Literally.
Not only did the statues keep their hands over their eyes, but they never stayed in one spot for long, moving whenever someone looked away.
But that wasn’t possible.
There was no mention of them in any of the books that she read- and trust me, she’s read the entire library.
There was no mention of them anywhere, almost like they never existed.
But that wasn’t the only strange thing that happened.
You see, a couple of days ago, some writing appeared on the wall at the end of the first floor corridor, writing that wasn’t there before.
It also appeared out of thin air.
And it wasn’t very helpful, the red words giving more questions than answers, everybody wondering what they meant.
Hermione Granger,
Watch out for the Weeping Angels,
The Doctor.
But there was one question that nobody could answer.
Hermione Granger.
Why her?
Why not Dumbledore or another member of the staff.
Why did it have to be her?
Those weren’t the only words that were on the wall however, the red paint also forming ten more words which just added to their confusion.
Don’t blink.
Don’t look away.
You’ll need this.
Good luck.
Underneath those last words was an arrow, one that pointed to a small radio, a familiar radio, one that she knew instantly.
That was her radio.
In fact, there was a tape inserted into the device, which was empty that morning.
Something weird was happening.
But what?
That was why she was pacing back and forth that evening, the common room empty, besides her two best friends who were staying up with her.
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.
Her brothers.
“How?” She just muttered to herself, her words causing her two best friends to look at each other, before one of them spoke, his tone of voice filled with hesitance.
Harry.
It was Harry.
“How is this possible?”
“Should we turn it on?”
His green eyes were staring at the radio, all three of them kneeling in front of the table before she switched it on, a certain static echoing through the silence.
But nothing happened.
“Is it broken?”
That was Ron, the red head whispering his words, causing them to go silent once a voice spoke through the speakers, a tone of voice that sounded amused.
“The radio isn’t broken, I assure you, Mister Weasley.”
Silence.
They just looked at each other, before the red haired boy spoke again, his words phrasing the question that all three of them wanted to know.
“How do you know my name?”
“I know all your names,” the voice from the radio just said again, the tone of voice staying amused, almost like this was a game to him.
Because that was the thing.
The voice belonged to a male, a man that none of them recognized, one who wasn’t a professor or a fellow student.
Hell, he probably wasn’t a Death Eater either.
“You’re Ronald Billis Weasley, and sitting next to you are Hermione Jean Granger and Harry James Potter.
All three of you are students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is currently being invaded by Weeping Angels.
Anything else you'd like to ask me?”
Man.
What a bunch of overwhelming information.
And none of them knew what to make of him, to be honest, the young woman speaking up this time, a part of her feeling foolish for the fact that she was speaking to a radio.
But hey.
She’s seen stranger things than this.
“Who are you?”
The answer came instant, almost like he was prepared for the question, a part of him expecting it.
And he probably was.
“I’m a time traveler or at least I was. I’m stuck. 1969.”
“We’re stuck.”
It was a female who spoke, her tone of voice filled with annoyance as she spoke her truth, her emotions plain as day.
“All the space and time he promised me and now I have a job in a shop. And I’ve got to support him.”
“Martha!”
“Sorry.”
The conversation may have been amusing, but it wasn’t very helpful, all three of them overwhelmed by the information.
A time traveler?
Not only that, but he was stuck in 1969, a timeline that was nowhere near their perfect reality of 1995.
What the hell was happening?
“Do you really expect us to believe that?”
It was her black haired friend who spoke this time, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the small radio, which was innocent in all of this.
And the two of them couldn't help but agree with him.
It wasn’t possible to go back into the past- a couple of hours at the most, sure, but not to another year in the past.
So, if he wasn’t a wizard, then what was he?
“1969? That’s where you’re talking from?”
“Afraid so.”
“But you’re replying to me.”
Those words were true.
He was.
He may have been talking through a tape, but he was replying to their questions perfectly, which wasn’t possible.
Was it?
“You can’t know exactly what I’m going to say twenty six years before I say it.”
“Thirty eight.”
This guy was insane.
If those words were true, then that meant that he’s known about this since 2007.
But that was impossible.
It was currently 1995, after all.
“How? How is this possible?”
That was Ron.
Again.
“Tell me.”
“People don’t understand time. It’s not what you think it is.”
“Then what is it?”
“Complicated.”
Helpful.
Super helpful.
“Tell me.”
It was her who spoke, her rational side winning as she tried to figure out what was happening and what it had to do with those strange angels on the third floor.
It was bizarre, that was what it was.
“Very complicated.”
“I’m clever and I’m listening.”
Those words were true.
She was called the brightest witch of her age for a reason.
“And don’t patronize me because people have died and I’m not happy.”
Those words were true.
They’ve already lost so many people in this war.
Take her best friend's godfather Sirius, for example.
“Tell me.”
“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect. But actually from a non linear non subjective viewpoint, it’s more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff.”
What?
This guy’s an idiot.
That was what he was.
“What matters now is that we can communicate, we have big problems now.”
Like what?
“They have taken the blue box.”
Who has?
“The angels have the phone box.”
Oh.
Those angels.
“What angels?”
“The angels on the third floor,” she just whispered to her friends, all three of them knowing that they would never forget this day for as long as they lived.
I mean, it wasn’t everyday when you communicated with a radio.
Right?
“Creatures from another world.”
“But they’re just statues.”
There was something wrong with them, sure, but they were stone, practically harmless.
Well, at first.
“Only when you see them.”
This was getting weirder and weirder, that’s for sure.
“What does that mean?”
“Lonely assassins, they used to be called. No one quite knows where they came from, but they’re as old as the universe.
Or very nearly. And they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defense system ever evolved.
They are quantum locked. They don’t exist when they’re being observed. The moment they’re seen by any other living creature, they freeze into rock.
No choice, just a fact of their biology. In the sight of any living thing, they literally turn into stone.”
Boy does this man love to talk.
My God.
“And you can’t kill stone.”
Well damn.
“Well, stone can’t kill you either, but then you turn your back away. Then you blink. And oh yes it can.”
“Don’t look away from them.”
It was a warning, both of her friends sticking with her towards the end, even through this.
You see, she was going to find that phone box, even if it meant facing those statues.
Weeping angels.
Lonely assassins.
Whatever they were called.
“That’s why they cover their eyes. They’re not weeping. They can’t risk looking at each other.
They’re greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen. The loneliest creatures in the universe.”
What an intense thought.
“Hermione, I'm sorry. I am very very sorry. It’s up to you now.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
She didn’t understand.
She just didn’t.
“The blue box, it’s my time machine. There is a world of time energy in there they could feast on forever.
But the damage they could do could switch on the sun. You have got to send it back to me.”
“How?”
Silence.
“How!?”
“And that’s it, I’m afraid. That’s the last I’ve got. I don’t know what happened, but I can guess.
They’re coming. The angels are coming for you. But listen. Your life could depend on this.
Don’t blink. Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead. They are fast. Faster than you can ever believe.
Don’t turn your back. Don’t look away, and don’t blink. Good luck.”
The radio turned to static after that, the tape ending, all three of them knowing that they were on their own, the Doctor's warning in their heads.
Don’t blink.
Don’t turn your back.
Don’t look away.
“Ready?”
Both boys were filled with hesitance as they turned towards her, but their blue and green eyes were filled with determination, matching her brown ones.
“Ready.”
Before they knew it, they were on the third floor, the corridor filled with angels, two of them guarding an abandoned classroom.
That was where they were keeping the box.
Bingo.
They just continued staring at the angels as they walked towards the box, using their wands to unlock the door.
“Alohomora.”
But nothing happened.
“A key. It needs a key.”
That was Harry.
Always observant, that one.
Two of them searched while the other one kept his eyes on the angels, his eyes burning from constantly keeping his eyes opened.
By the time they found the key he was whimpering, his eyes both watery and burning with pain.
“Come on.”
She just unlocked the door after that, before all three of them climbed inside, the box bigger on the inside.
But that wasn’t unusual for the wizarding world.
It was like Mister Weasley’s tent after all.
“Woah.”
The walls were an orangey copper, and there was a large console in the middle, none of them knowing what button to press.
They were just winging it, to be honest.
After exploring for a little while, she just pressed one of the first buttons that she could see, a big red one that was in the center of the console.
Should you press the big red button?
No.
But nothing happened, besides the fact that the box materialized before them, disappearing before it faded away completely.
Which left them with the Weeping Angels.
Well, what was left of them anyways.
Because it turned out that the Doctor tricked them, all four of them angels frozen as they stared at each other, frozen that way permanently.
Before they knew it, their lives moved on.
The three of them may have fought in a war, but none of them were able to forget that moment, hoping that they would be able to meet this mysterious Doctor one day.
Eventually they did.
The year was 2008, ten years after the second wizarding war ended, but thirteen years after they dealt with those angels all those years ago.
It was the woman who first noticed them, her brown eyes watching as a messy brown haired man and a black girl got out of a cab, a bow and arrow in their hands.
That was him.
It just had to be.
Before she knew it, she was running after them, her actions getting the attention of her husband and best friend, who followed her with confused frowns on their faces.
Well, until they heard her words that was.
“Oh My God. It’s you. It really is you.”
The two of them just stared at her, one with annoyance and one with a small smile, both of them staying silent as she spoke again.
“You’re the Doctor. Of course you are. I’ve always wanted to meet you.”
“Are you a fan?”
Those words wiped the smile off her face, the older man’s words causing her to realize something.
He didn’t recognize her.
Of course he didn’t.
“You’re a time traveler. Of course. This is your past, it hasn’t happened yet.”
That was it.
That was the only explanation.
Before he could say anything, she just took the vial off memories out of her pocket, before she gave it to him, her eyes watching as his fingers wrapped around the glass.
“Sometime in the future, you’re going to get stuck in 1969. You’re gonna need this.”
He just frowned at her before he spoke again, his tone of voice calm as his female friend stayed silent, continuing to watch them with a smile on her face.
“What was your name?”
“Hermione. Hermione Granger.”
“It’s good to meet you, Hermione Granger.”
The two of them walked away after that, the three of them continuing to watch them, unaware that the future took a full three sixty turn.
That was how he knew.
Because it was her.
She was the one who warned him.
She just smiled as she took her husband's hand, the young woman following the two men back into the coffee shop, before they finished their drinks.
And they had the time of their lives, unaware that a group of angels were watching them from the rooftop of a nearby building.
Familiar angels.
It was a threat that they never noticed, the three of them continuing on with their days while the Doctor and his friend fought for peace on Earth.
But things would never be peaceful, no matter how much they wanted things to be.
The End.