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Tricks Of Telling by javct
Chapter 1 : August Four; 2002
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 7

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A/N: Another WIP crossover! This one is only a short story so hopefully I'll be able to finish it :) It's a Ten/Hermione story - but it's more of a Donna and Doctor or Amy and Doctor relationship than Doctor and Rose or Martha and Doctor.

Reviews would make my day! This is also my first time writing Ten, so I hope I do him justice!

Disclaimer: I own neither Doctor Who (BBC) or Harry Potter (JK Rowling) 

Amazing chapter image by killer queen!




“Keep calm and tell me what happened; preferably without the sound effects.”

Hermione titled her head at her counselor, as if she was confused by the question. “You know you ask me this question every day, do you think that my answer will change?”

“Hermione, Sweetie, we’re only trying to help you,” Ron said, squeezing her hand.

“Ronald Weasley, I know why you are here! Do you know why? Because you have visited me every day for the past two months! There is nothing wrong with me! He was real, I travelled with him - I went on one trip - and then he dropped me back home. That was it!”

Her counselor scribbled something furiously on her board; Hermione guessed it read, “Subject still continues to believe her delusions.” Hermione smiled. No one understood. They didn’t understand what Hermione had seen and where she had been. She wasn’t mad, she was perfectly sane. It wasn’t her fault that her story sounded like it was from a badly written sci-fi novel.

“Hermione,” her counselor sounded slightly irritated. “Tell me what happened; tell me about the Doctor and the blue box.”

Hermione gathered the blankets that were lying on the floor and wrapped them around herself. The open window was letting a draft in. “Okay,” she sighed and, just like she did every morning, Hermione launched into her story, “my name is Hermione Jean Granger, I’m twenty-three years old and I’m dating Ron Weasley. On my sixteenth birthday I met a man called The Doctor, he said that he came to wish me a happy birthday. He left and I didn’t see him again for three years. On my nineteenth birthday he returned, grabbed my hand and told me to run.”

“To run from what?” her counselor asked, peering over the rims of her glasses.

“If you’d let me finish then I would tell you,” Hermione retorted. “Anyway, he told me to run from the Death Eaters that were surrounding me,”

“You could have just used your wand,” the counselor pointed out, her pen wavering over the paper.

“I’d lost it.” Was all Hermione said. The counselor pursed her lips together but said nothing. “Then we ran into a Police Box. At first I thought both he and I wouldn’t fit in it because it was so small but, much to my surprise, it was bigger on the inside, ‘another dimension’ he had explained.”

In the corner of the room, Ron whispered to Harry and Ginny - who had just entered the room. “Basically, Hermione’s met a Doctor, they ran from Death Eaters because she lost her wand and now they’re in a small box that’s bigger on the inside,”

“Call me crazy, call me anything you want but he was real! I remember every last detail of him; down to the shoes he wore and that bloody sonic screwdriver that he used all the time.”

“Hermione,” her counselor sighed, shifting her chair closer. Hermione nodded and brushed a loose strand out of her eye; she was listening intently. “Do you think that you, invented, this man, this Doctor because you’re scared to face reality?”

Hermione tilted her head and snuggled into her blankets. “You know my whole life I only believed the facts; we are born to die, and someone in between life and death we have to make an impression. So I studied, I never handed an assignment in late and everything was by the book. Then I met a man named The Doctor and he showed me things that I couldn’t read about in books. It was one of the most amazing holidays that I’ve ever had. Why would I make something like that up?” her counselor - and everyone in the room - was lost for words. Hermione allowed herself a moment to gloat. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me then I would like to go and have brunch; the lasagna looked amazing,” Hermione stood to her feet and allowed the blanket to fall to the ground.


Hermione didn’t know what to do. She had just made a fool out of herself in front of everyone; not only did they think she was mad, no, now they also thought that she was stubborn and rude.

Hermione wiped away tears that had fallen quickly. Her trip with The Doctor was one of the most amazing times of her life. She had tried to convince herself so many times that he wasn’t coming; that he had left her forever but she didn’t believe that. The Doctor had promised her that one day he would come back for her and so she was waiting; just as she had been for two months.

The door opened behind her. Harry walked in. “Hey,” he said, closing it behind him. “How are you holding up?”

She was tempted to lie, to say that everything was good and fine but she knew that he would see straight through her little white lie. “Not good,” she said finally. “I’m not crazy.” She added adamantly.

“I never said you were,” Harry replied, sitting down at the foot of her bed.

Hermione jerked her head up; a glimmer of hope in her eye. “So you believe me then?”

“I never said that.” Sighing, Harry reached out and squeezed Hermione’s shoulder. “Look,” he said, “I’m not going to judge whether or not he was real Hermione; you know I’m the last person to call anyone ‘crazy’ but I will say that you need to get out of here. This place isn’t helping you — Ron and Ginny don’t understand what it’s like to be different; to be called crazy.”

“You want to know what happened don’t you?” Hermione asked. She knew that tone in Harry’s voice. Smiling, he nodded. Hermione ran her fingers through her hair and settled herself down next to Harry.

“Okay,” she said bluntly. She twisted her hands in her lap. “You really want to know?”

“Really really,” he urged. Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to tell her best friend the story about the witch and her doctor....

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