The Adventures of Rosemarie

random musings of a Potterhead/Whovian

A Friend of the Doctor’s



“So, Martha Jones, you deserve a treat; when and where shall it be this time? Past or future? Earth or Raxicoricofallipatorious?”

I allowed myself a small smile as the Doctor buzzed busily around the console, pulling levers and pushing buttons. He glanced toward me, grinning with a childlike enthusiasm that only he could have. He quickly ran a hand through his unruly brown hair to get it out of his face. Seeing him in the TARDIS, his bright eyes and pinkish face glowing, stretching to reach another control on its console with his free hand, I understood that he was truly at home here, in this impossible, bigger-on-the-inside, blue box.

“Anywhere in the world, Doctor! It’s your turn to choose,” I replied, flinging my arms out, then falling off my perch on the rail.

Suddenly, his face lit up, even brighter than it already was. The excited twinkle in his eyes grew.

“What is it now, Doctor?” I asked, already becoming excited.

“How would you like to meet one of my old friends, Martha Jones? Allons-y!”

I didn’t have to respond; we were off into time and space in a matter of moments.


“Welcome, witches and wizards, new and old. Before we begin the feast signifying the beginning of a new term—“

The headmaster was interrupted by a new noise amongst the chatter of giggling students and the clanging of floating dishes of food.

Vwsshhhh, vwshhhhh, vwshhh, vwshhh, vwshh, vwshhhh.

With every vwsh, the faint outline of a tall… Well… Box, could be seen, fading in and out. A bright, white lamp on top of the box flashed in unison with the sounds and the fading. On the last vwshhhh, the box fully materialized in the center of the Great Hall, and a tall, skinny man stepped out with a dark-skinned young woman, astonishing even the ever-composed Configuration professor.

The white-haired headmaster simply grinned.

“Doctor, wonderful to see you again,” the headmaster greeted him, an amused expression on his bespectacled face.

“And you!” the Doctor answered, patting the old man heartily on the back.

The young woman’s mouth dropped open. She tugged on the sleeve of his overcoat.

“Doctor,” she whispered, bemused, “is that… Him? As in, him?”

“That’s right, Martha Jones. This is Albus Dumbledore, one of my oldest friends.”

Image credit: KMeaghan. TARDIS at Hogwarts. Digital image. Deviant Art. Deviant Art, 2011. Web. 23 Mar. 2013.

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