|Rory Weasley, Master of Death
Author: HidingInTheWeeds PM
Rory falls through a time vortex and wakes up as the only blonde Weasley, and a squib at that. The Master asks the Doctor for help. [Timelines: HP universe, July 1996. DW universe, before 'Angels Take Manhattan'. References DW episodes 'Utopia', 'The Sound of Drums', 'Last of the Time Lords', and the special 'The End of Time'. Search tardis (dot) wikia (dot) com for synopses.]Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Drama/Friendship - 11th Doctor & The Master - Chapters: 35 - Words: 79,894 - Reviews: 30 - Favs: 32 - Follows: 61 - Updated: 06-13-13 - Published: 11-29-12 - id: 8749261
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A strange noise woke Rory.
He bolted upright and realized that he wasn't in his room in the attic of the house, but on the couch in the ground floor living room, still wearing his clothes from the previous day, an open book lying face down across his lap.
The odd sound continued, not just part of one of Rory's inexplicable dreams. He peered out the window across the expanse of fields surrounding the Burrow. A thick fog had settled in over Ottery St. Catchpole, and the sun was only just beginning to peek over the horizon, but neither the haze nor dim could hide the large object that was Apparating in an unusual fashion not twenty meters away over the fens. It faded in and out a few times, making a sound halfway between a wheeze and a roar, before finally settling in and falling silent. Rory blinked in surprise. He'd seen a Police Box before, his father having instilled in him an appreciation of all things Muggle, but had never imagined that one could be charmed to behave in such a manner.
Rory leapt up, tossed the book onto the table, crossed to the front door and headed outside, not bothering to put on shoes.
The Police Box hadn't moved. Rory stalked towards it with slight trepidation, and shouted, "Oi, Dad, are you in there? Mum will be more than cross if she sees you've acquired yet another-"
The door flung open and a man who was certainly not Arthur Weasley bounded out. He was wearing a tweed jacket, red bowtie, and trousers that were a bit too short. "Rory!" he cried, and crossed the distance between them.
Before Rory could react, the stranger was ruffling his hair with affection. After a stunned moment, Rory pushed him away. "Who are you?" he asked.
The stranger tilted his head and squinted. "C'mon, Rory…it can't have been that long! It's me, the Doctor."
This elicited nothing more than a blank stare. The man pulled an unusual metal wand out of his jacket pocket and aimed it at Rory.
"Expelliarmus!" cried a voice, and the strange wand flew from the Doctor's grip into the open palm of a dark-haired, bespectacled boy who had emerged from the house, along with a small group of others.
The Doctor stared wide-eyed at his own hand, wiggling the fingers. "Wow. Wow, wow, wow! What was that?"
He took a step towards the young man wearing glasses. "How'd you do that?" he asked, beaming with exhilaration and curiosity.
A red-haired girl standing beside the boy brandished her wand. The Doctor stopped advancing and put his hands up. "Who are you?" she demanded.
"I'm the Doctor."
"A Muggle doctor?"
"What's a Muggle?"
"Who are you?" she repeated, with ferocity.
"Just the Doctor. The madman and his blue box. Nobody's heard of me?"
They all looked at Rory. "Why are you all looking at Rory?" asked the Doctor.
"I'm the resident historian and mythologist. And I'm sorry, but nothing comes to mind. I mean, there are lots of famous doctors and healers, but none with an Apparating box."
"That might explain why it tastes so different here."
He kept his hands up, but began to sample the air with his tongue. "I thought I was in England. This doesn't taste like England."
"You are in England," said a brunette girl with thick, curly hair.
"No, can't be. England never tastes like this. This is…rather nice, even a bit intoxicating. Mmmm. Though, is it really a taste, or more of an aroma…" he trailed off, beginning to sniff instead, still walking around with his hands up, weaving through the group. "It's everywhere…it's coming from everyone…everyone except you, Rory. Do you realize you're different?"
Rory just stared at him. The Doctor pushed further, "Do you ever get the feeling that you don't belong here?"
"Hey!" cried the redheaded girl, stepping in front of the Doctor. "I don't know how you know my brother's a squib, but don't you dare imply he doesn't belong here!"
"Who sent you?"
"Wait. Time out. Miscommunication."
The curly-haired brunette stepped forward, and gently pushed the redhead's wand arm down. "Ginny, I think it's alright," she said quietly.
"But, Hermione, what if he-"
Hermione gave Ginny a pleading look, then turned to the Doctor. "Is there someone we should owl –telephone– for you, sir?" she asked.
"Start with St. Mungo's," said a red-haired young man standing behind her.
"Ron! He's clearly not from anywhere around here. He calls himself a doctor, not a healer, so he's probably unfamiliar with the Wizarding world. But he's not a normal Muggle, either. He's something…else."
"I like her," said the Doctor.
He glanced at the boy with dark messy hair, who was examining the metal wand with a deeply concerned expression. "How'd he do that, Hermione?" asked the Doctor.
"He's a wizard."
"Ah, that's cool! And, I'm sorry, but what's a Muggle, and what's a squib?"
"A Muggle is a non-magical person, from a non-magical lineage. Most of the world are Muggles. A squib, however, is a non-magical person born into a magical family."
"Everyone is magical," the Doctor answered automatically.
All eyes were on him then, especially Rory's. The tall, dark-blond man cleared his throat awkwardly. "Actually, sir…I'm not."
"Rubbish. Rory, you must remember me."
"I'm sorry, but I don't know you."
"Your name is Rory…er…Pond."
"No, it's not."
"You're right, that's a joke. It's…I know it starts with a 'w'…"
"I'm Rory Weasley. There's my sister Ginny, and my brother Ron."
"This is worse than I thought," said the Doctor.
He began to pace back and forth. "You can put your arms down," said the dark-haired boy.
"Thanks, um…didn't catch your name?"
"Thanks, Harry. So…you are all wizards, except for Rory?"
They nodded. Ginny said, "Hermione and I are witches."
"Are you not a wizard?" asked Harry.
"I really don't know."
"Why are you here?"
"A friend of mine got lost, and I'm looking for him."
"And that's me," said Rory.
"Mr. Pond, you're more brilliant than I give you credit for."
"Why do you call me that? Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
"No. Though…I do dream of ponds a lot," he said quietly, staring at the ground.
"What else do you dream about?"
"That's it, no more talking to the loony. Let's get Dad," said Ron, grabbing Rory's arm and dragging him back towards the house.
By now, the tension had lessened somewhat, and the others were regarding the Doctor with guarded curiosity. "Did he fly that telephone box here?" Hermione half-whispered to Harry.
"That is my TARDIS, a spacecraft and time machine," volunteered the Doctor.
The tension swiftly regained its former strength. The Doctor hurriedly continued, "Look, I'll show you."
He stepped backwards slowly until he was standing right in front of the doors of the blue box, then threw them open dramatically. Hermione cautiously stepped forward to look. "Bigger on the inside," she said. "I have a handbag like that."
The Doctor's jaw dropped slightly. Usually this part of the routine was answered with oohs and ahhs and OMGs of amazement, and he suddenly felt foolish for expecting such a reaction. "I mean, I am impressed," continued Hermione, her tone slightly patronizing.
"You don't believe it's really a spacecraft and time machine."
Caught, she blushed and rejoined her friends. "All right, I'll prove it," he said, and leapt into the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him.
After a moment, Hermione said, "Maybe we should owl St. Mungo's. It wouldn't hurt to check if any patients are missing."