I don't own anything in this story! Steven Moffat and Mark Gattis own Doctor Who and Queen Rowling owns Harry Potter! Read and review! Reviews make my day! Amazing chapter image by Azimuth!!
He came after the Battle of Hogwarts, out of nowhere, on a summer day. He appeared by the sycamore tree that stood outside my window in a big blue box. He called himself The Doctor.
“Hello,” he said, “I’m the Doctor, Where am I? The TARDIS seemed to have a system malfunction and sent me off course, you see, I was trying to find someone. Well, when I say someone, I mean something and when I say something, I mean a small cluster of me’s! Some form of shape-shifters are gathering and disguising them as me! As Time-Lords! And let me tell you, trying to find someone when they have the whole universe to hide in is hard,” this man rambled. He used dramatic hand gestures and continually ran his fingers through his hair.
“My name is Luna Lovegood,” I replied, “the whole universe to hide? That must be one fun game of hide-and-seek,” this man made me curious; he talked as though he truly believed that time was a playpen. I liked him.
“Luna? That’s a brilliant name. Oh, beautiful earrings Luna; radishes aren’t they? Well, that’s peculiar,” he said, looking over my shoulder. Turning around, I saw my new experiment: floating radishes.
“They’re floating radishes; my experiment,” I said proudly. The Doctor prodded the radishes as though they were foreign. Where was he from? Suddenly, his blue box, his TARDIS, began to make a roaring sound. The Doctor, startled by the sound, ran over to the box and jumped inside.
“Come with me?” he asked suddenly, spinning around. The Doctor had a large smile on his face but his fingers were tapping impatiently on the blue door. Taken aback by his offer, I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. I made up my mind.
I shook my head. “Not today Doctor,” nodding, he ducked inside his box and then was gone. I returned to my floating radishes, smiling. I was sane, I knew that the Doctor was real.
He returned three months later with a fez adorning his head. “Luna! Fez’s are cool,” he exclaimed, stepping out of his blue box and pointing wildly at his Fez. Pulling me into a hug, he began to tell me what he had been doing with intricate detail: “I’ve been traveling: saved the universe a few times, created big bang two, stopped the daleks destroying the world again, met up with previous me, got married again—that was a mistake, joined The Beatles—they kicked me out when I told that they didn’t live in a yellow submarine, saw Sarah Jane again, got arrested in 1969, put Hitler in a cupboard, got a fez and had a cup of tea,” the Doctor paused to take a breath. “Time-travel, things never happen in the right order. How long has it been?”
“Three months,” I replied and returned to pruning the garden. He seemed different, a lot more childish and carefree then the last time we had spoken. “Your cheeks are more flushed then before, what happened?”
The Doctor then launched himself into a large and complex speech about his friend Amy Pond and her husband Rory. “You see it was Christmas and they were on a honeymoon planet, which isn’t what you think. It’s a planet, literally, on a honeymoon, it married an asteroid, and, well, I wanted to surprise them so I went to planet and I met River Song. She wasn’t supposed to be there...”
His timeline didn’t quite match up with what he was saying, but I didn’t question him. “Who’s River Song?” I asked instead. His eyes had lit up when he mentioned her name. He liked her; that much was simple.
The Doctor’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink and he shuffled his feet. “A friend,” he mumbled, “she calls me sweetie.”
“You like her.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. The Doctor shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably and tugged at his sleeves. “You know,” I said wistfully, “for someone so old you are still have a child’s heart,”
“What makes you think I’m old?” he said, poking me in the shoulder playfully.
“Your eyes.” He stopped abruptly.
“Your eyes Doctor, they’re old eyes; filled with guilt and sadness. You’re not alone in this,” suddenly The Doctor’s shoulders sagged. Letting out a sigh, he pulled me close, kissed my forehead and wrapped his arms around me.
“You Miss Lovegood. You are amazing,” he said loudly into my ear. I didn’t know how to reply, no one had ever said that I was amazing. My father had used many words to describe me, but amazing defiantly was not one of them.
“No-one’s ever called me that before,” I finally admitted.
He let me go abruptly and stared at me with a distort look on his face. “Do you want to know something Miss Lovegood?” When I nodded he continued, “It's always the most amazing people that are the most unthought-of,”
I looked over the Doctor’s shoulder and stared at the sky. The sun was setting over the burrow and the sky was painted a beautiful orange. “The sky is beautiful tonight,” I said, settling down into the ground. The Doctor followed in suit, “Daddy used to tell me that fireflies had flown up into the sky and got themselves stuck up there.” I wasn’t sure I was telling him this but it just seemed like the right thing to do. For that one moment I felt at peace; I wasn’t haunted by the war or what could have been.
“You know, you could, only if you wanted to, come with me. We can visit the fifth Moon of Calisto; we can see the end of the universe, or the beginning of time itself. The entire world in a big blue box; what do you say Miss Lovegood?”
Just one trip wouldn’t hurt would it? The Doctor was a time-traveler, maybe; just maybe, he could take me back to see mummy or daddy just one last time. I turned to look at the Doctor, “One trip wouldn’t hurt,” I smiled.
“Well, come on then!” a large smile spread across his face and he jumped with excitement.
“I’ll just go and pack,” I said, bounding the stairs two at a time. I threw a few things in my suitcase: some clothes, a few binoculars, my wand, family photos and my favorite book. I smiled as I walked back outside, but my smile was quickly killed with fire when I couldn’t see the Doctor. Looking around I saw no TARDIS sitting under the sycamore tree. He had left me, just as people do. I slid onto the green grass in defeat when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the fez that The Doctor was wearing standing on the ground. Smiling, I picked it up and placed it on my head. He was going to come back I just had to wait.
I waited six months for the Doctor to return and when he did he apologized furiously for leaving. “Amy,” he said breathlessly, “she called and said she was in trouble. I had to save her,”
“But everything’s okay now?” I questioned.
He nodded and smiled. “Yes, it’s all good now. Turns out she only wanted me over for Christmas Dinner. Can’t blame her though, I am the best company for Christmas Dinner—if I do say so myself. I have an endless supply of jokes and presents that came from the other end of the universe—” the Doctor stopped himself mid sentence and looked around curiously; as though he was seeing something that I couldn’t see.
“Doctor?” I asked. He put a finger to my lips.
“There’s something wrong.” He said finally. Running past me, the Doctor reached the top of the hill and looked around. I thought he was playing. I could play along too. I ran up beside him. “Something very, very wrong.” The Doctor ran his finger through his hair was he attempted to figure out what he was missing.
“Doctor, what’s wrong?” I asked, looking around. Everything was normal; there was nothing different.
“I don’t know yet, just something.” After several more moments, the Doctor let out a long gasp and hit himself on the head. “Luna, what time is it?”
That’s when I saw it, “It was the middle of the day when you came! Where did the sun go!”
“Perception filter,” he exclaimed. “That or I’m just thick.” The Doctor pulled a thick, odd looking object out of his jacket and buzzed it around the place. Flicking it up he stared at it and muttered something under his breath. “This is not good, really, really not good.” The next words brought the world to its knees.