The Face of Boe: I have seen so much, perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind, as you are the last of yours, Doctor.
The Doctor: That's why we have to survive, both of us. Don't go.
The Face of Boe: I must, but know this, Time Lord: You are not alone.
The Doctor ran around the console, frantically pressing buttons. Don't Stop Me Now, ( the Queen version, thank Rassilon), was playing in the background. The thing was, the Doctor wasn't driving the TARDIS, he was trying to stop it. He knew it was hopeless – the TARDIS wanted to go somewhere, and nothing - not rain, sleet, snow, atomic bomb, end of the world, end of the universe, start of the next - would stop it now.
"No, no, no, no, no!" he yelled. "Where are we going?! Stop, please! STOOOOOOOP!!"
It was no use, he knew. The TARDIS slowed down over it's selected destination, and slowly materialised.
The Doctor sighed. She had been getting increasingly temperamental, perhaps because hwe had been getting increasingly grumpy. But then, he had a right to be grumpy! Rose had gone, and Donna had declined top come with him in the TARDIS, leaving him utterly alone. As always, he thought bitterly.
"Where have we ended up this time, old girl?" he said softly to the TARDIS.
He shook his head. Trying to predict the TARDIS's actions was like trying to predict what he would look like next time he regenerated - pointless and impossible.
"We're not staying. We're really, really not staying", he said, pulling the lever to send them back on their way.
The TARDIS, however, steadfastly refused to move. The Doctor tried talking to it, threatening it, and bashing the console with a hammer, but it just wouldn't work. She wasn't going anywhere.
The Doctor sighed. Oh for the days when he could have traded her in for a type 57...
"Oh well. Might as well get it over with..."
He picked his long coat off the wall, and walked out of the door, to face whatever might be out there.
Idyllic beauty. That was what was out there.
The Doctor stood on the edge of a great lake, which glinted in the evening light. He stared around him. A massive castle stood towering nearby, with lights in the windows, tall, beautiful.
The Doctor smiled. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Certainly, there were no Dalek invasions, no Cybermen plots, no Sontarans, and no Master...
Well. Of course there was no Master.
"Oi!" came a booming voice from behind him, shocking him out of his reverie.
The Doctor turned, hoping to God it wasn't a cliched farmhand with a shotgun like in the films.
Suffice to say, it wasn't.
It was a massive man in a long coat, aiming a pink umbrella at him threateningly.
"Who are ya?" he yelled, brandishing the umbrella like a weapon, keeping the point trained on the Doctors nose.
"I'm the Doctor", replied the Doctor, staring cross eyed at the point of the umbrella.
"Doctor who?" asked the giant, puzzled.
The Doctor grinned at him. Oh, the times he had heard that...
"Everyone says that," he said. "I'm just the Doctor."
"Yer here for the job interview?" said the giant, still brandishing the umbrella.
"Yes!" said the Doctor suddenly, struck by inspiration. "I'm here for the job interview, and I got lost..."
The giant smiled, all trace of hostility vanishing from his features.
"Well then!" he boomed. "Why didn't you say so? I'll guide you up. Oh!" he added suddenly, as if he had forgotten something drastically important. "I forgot to introduce myself. Rubeus Hagrid is my name, gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures teacher."
He smiled, and turned back to the castle.
"Now, if you'll just follow me, I'll have you to Professor Dumbledore's office in a jiffee..."
The Doctor shrugged to himself. 'No harm in going for a job interview, I suppose', he thought.
Then it struck him.
Magical creatures? Oh, this sounded good.
He followed Hagrid up to the castle.
He entered the office of Professor Dumbledore.
"Ah, excellent, how nice to see you!" said Dumbledore as the Doctor entered. He was standing, looking out the window. He was a tall man, with long silver hair and a longer silver beard, with little half moon specs hanging on his nose.
"Nice to be welcomed", replied the Doctor, happily.
"Well, I know that you want to get on," said Dumbledore, sitting down, "you do have a whole school year to plan for, so I won't keep you..."
The Doctor blanched. What?
"Hang on, I thought this was an interview!" he said, bemused, bewildered, befuddled, and a whole load of other be- words.
"Well, it was," said Dumbledore, "but since no one else has even considered the job, then you get it by default."
"How do you know I'm good enough for the job?" asked the Doctor, now rather worried.
Dumbledore stopped for a second, as if it had never occured to him.
"You know, that is actually a good point," he said. "Oh well, I'm sure you know what you're doing. You wouldn't have applied if you didn't, after all!"
The Doctor laughed nervously.
"Well, it's something of an honour, I just expected it to be difficult to get..."
"Well, when you're the only applicant, it isn't," replied Dumbledore. "What's your name, might I ask?"
"Er..." stammered the Doctor, still stunned, "Smith. Dr John Smith."
"Smith. Splendid," smiled Dumbledore. "Anyway, I'll let you get on."
The Doctor walked out, and headed for the grounds, hoping that he could deal with the challenge presented to him...
He didn't hear Dumbledore murmur the words, "hello again, Doctor."
The Doctor read furiously. He had now read, by his reckoning, one hundred and twenty five books on magic.
It was a fascinating subject, you could be sure of it. Absolutely fascinating. But how was he supposed to teach defence against the dark arts?
Well, he thought to himself, if the past nine hundred years have tought me anything, it's that improvisation is always your best option.
So he got reading.