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    It was a cold, foggy September day in London. The wizard and two witches walking down the sidewalk were down from Birmingham to argue their case, once again, before the Potions Licencing Office.
    It was such a simple request. With no affordable space available in the Wizarding High Street, they had decided to set up shop in a muggle storefront, and saw no reason to not put a muggle tea shop in front to disguise a potions dispensary; especially as any wizarding customers would like tea and bisquits as much as the next person.
    The Ministry of Magic thought differently.
    Outside the building that concealed the underground Ministry offices, a red telephone box was the only spot of colour through the fog. On reaching the box, they saw that it was now two boxes, side by side. One disguised the public entrance into the Ministry, and displayed a sign that read, "Out of Order". They stopped to look more closely.
    "Well," said one witch, "nice of the City of London to put its own in- handy for us muggleborns, but why didn't they try to take our fake one?"
    The other witch pushed the door of the new box half open and peered in, then angrily pushed it open the rest of the way.
    "There's your answer," she said. "Some joker's put this here with an extendability charm on the inside."
    The muggleborn witch took a quick peek, then announced that she was going to get someone from Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. She entered the other booth, and the concealed lift carried her down into the Ministry. The other witch and the wizard entered the extended booth and crossed to the centre of the round room, despite a growing sense of unease. The interior had a disturbingly technological appearance.
    The walls and floor were black, although three of the walls were covered with regularly placed white plates set into them, emitting light. The remaining wall had black plates.
    In the middle of the room was a hexagonal table, that stood at waist height to an average sized man, on a central column that extended through it to a height of ten feet. The top portion of the column was clear glass, with an odd sculpture inside. The table was in six sections, each sloped like a writing desk but at an exagerated angle, and covered with coloured lights and things sticking up.
    At the far wall of the room, four upright cylinders stood in a row, filled with liquid. In front of them was what looked like the back of a large chair. The witch and wizard looked at each other, and gripped their wands tightly.
    "Is anyone in here?" the wizard called out. "We've sent for someone from Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, so cursing us won't--"
    He trailed off as the chair swiveled around. Seated in it was an inferus, clad in a tattered robe, nearly all of the flesh gone from the skull. If the sight of any inferus could be called normal, this one was not; the eyes were alert and intelligent. It raised a strange wand in a skeletal hand.
    The witch screamed as a flash of clear white light burst from the wand, and the wizard was gone. Before she could utter a spell, there was another flash. Seconds later, the door to the telephone box closed, and it vanished with an odd wheezing sound.

    The muggleborn witch returned with a junior clerk from Misuse of Muggle Artefacts; an overly eager ginger by the name of Arthur Weasley. She was a bit irritated, remembering what a pest he'd been at Hogwarts. The worst part had been that he was one of the nice Gryffindors; he even spoke to Slytherins, and his friendly enthusiasm made one feel guilty for wearying of his endless barrage of questions.
    Now, however, he had only one question.
    "So, Mabel, where is this other telephone box?"
    "But- but- it was here!" she said helplessly.
    Weasley noted the sincerity in her voice and nodded.
    "Well," he said, "our prankster has obviously portkeyed or vanished it, so either way it'll turn up somewhere; hopefully disenchanted and no longer our problem.
    "I just wish," he added wistfully, "that I'd caught him"
    Weasley cast his eyes to the pavement, then suddenly went down on his knee as he spotted something; or rather, two somethings. He pulled out his wand.
    "Natura revelio," he said, and gasped at what the spell revealed. He picked up two doll-like figures, between eight and twelve inches long, of a witch and a wizard. He held them up to Mabel, who gasped.
    "B-b-but, those are poppets of my friends!"
    Weasley's voice shook as he replied, "No, Mabel, these are your friends."
             ******************************

    By October the weather had not improved. Indeed, only the narrowness of Knockturn Alley sheltered the furtive shoppers as they hugged the walls, a curtain of rain pouring into the middle gutter from the eaves.
    In Borgin & Burke's, Death Eater Metus Varney browsed, not looking for anything in particular, just what might catch his fancy. The vanishing cabinet was new, but that iron maiden had been there it seemed like forever. Between them was a second iron maiden, and that was new.
    The Death Eater opened it, to find it enchanted with an extendability charm. Well, that was different.
    The round room inside was a fair size, with an interesting sculpture in the middle. The Death Eater smiled. A portable private room would be a nice gift for the Dark Lord. He went inside for a better look.
    It was only as the door closed quietly behind him that Varney realized he had made a terrible mistake. A large chair at the far side of the room swivelled around, and Varney found himself face to face with an inferus in a tattered robe. The inferus pulled back its hood with a hand of rotting flesh, and the Death Eater saw bright, intelligent eyes above the traces of a genuine grin on residual lips.
    Even as Varney raised his wand to curse the horror before him, the inferus raised a strange, metalic looking wand. There was a flash of white light, the door closed, and the iron maiden vanished with an odd wheezing sound.
    
    Caratacus Burke, despite his advanced years, was still sharp of hearing, and he hobbled over to the spot where the sound came from. The only strange things were the sudden absence of his customer, and a curse poppet out of its proper place. It was on the floor between the vanishing cabinet and the iron maiden.
    With a frown, Burke drew his wand and Summoned the poppet into his hand. His frown deepened as he saw that the poppet was in the image of his missing Death Eater customer.
                     ********************


    November sleet was punishing in Hogsmeade. Death Eaters barely left the Hog's Head except to apparate home. In the alley behind the infamous public house, a Death Eater waited, huddled miserably under his thick woolen cloak. At last, a crack rent the air, and Lord Voldemort appeared. He got right to the point.
    "What is the word from Magical Law Enforcement, Barron?"
    "My Lord, there is nothing. When Burke was taken in yesterday, he told them all that he told you. He also gave them Varney's shrunken body."
    Voldemort frowned thoughtfully. "So, no closer to identifying this new curse than we are. Most distressing.
    "But come; we can think better in the warmth, with wine. I see the landlord has a new shipment in, even in this weather."
    He indicated a stack of wine kegs against the wall of the pub. Barron sighed.
    "I fear you are mistaken, my Lord. Those are all empty. All that's left inside is spirits."
    They walked past the kegs, but stopped and turned suddenly at a strange sound. The Dark lord and his servant stared, dumbfounded, as a second stack of wine kegs faded into place next to the first. This was no magic that they knew.
    "Barron," Voldemort said, "I believe we now have a clue."
    Barron clenched his jaw. He knew what the Dark Lord expected him to do. He would prefer not to, but he was of Gryffindor House, and even among Death Eaters, that carried certain expectations.
    Exploring the stack with his hands, Barron found that it was comprised of a single mass, not separate kegs; like a child's toy. A door slowly opened in the front, and he cautiously peered in.
    "There's an extendability charm inside," he said, "I'm going in."
    Barron stepped through the door, and Voldemort stood in the doorway for a look. He saw a chair at the back wall swivel slowly around, and caught a glimpse of an inferus covered in a tattered robe. From a skull covered with rotted flesh, living inteligent eyes shone. The inferus's lips parted with an evil grin as it raised its hand.
    There was a flash of light, and Barron vanished before Voldemort's startled eyes. The Dark Lord spun away from the door, the door closed, and the stack of wine kegs vanished with the same sound that had announced its arrival.
    Quickly, Voldemort strode to the spot where Barron had stood, and found a curse poppet of the man on the ground.
                  ************************

    December snow crunching beneath his feet was a cheery sound to Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It sounded like Christmas, now just two weeks away. Even the centaurs had some Christmas spirit this year, allowing their young to take lessons from Hagrid.
    Now, two young fillies stood attentively with him in the Forbidden Forest, learning how to groom a unicorn.
    "Yeh got to pay attention to what the beast is tellin' yeh," Hagrid was saying, as one filly ran a thorn comb through the unicorn's tail. "It ain't much different from groomin' yerselves, 'cept they don't use words; they just kick."
    The older filly nodded. "Mother says my flanks twitch when she pulls a snag, so she knows before I say anything."
    "Right," Hagrid said. "It's little things like that. Yeh listen to the animal with eyes and hands as well as ears."
    They looked up at a strange, wheezing sound three yards in front of them, and saw a new, mature tree appear in the forest. The unicorn bolted, and Hagrid knew why; he had heard rumours.
    "An' right now, that unicorn's sayin' 'run'."
    The fillies heeded the lesson, and ran home. Hagrid gripped the handle of his flowered pink umbrella, holding it like a wand. A door in the tree opened.
    "I ain't comin' in, whoever you are," he said. "We bin hearin' about you, an' seein' your handiwork. Even you-know-who's co-operatin'."
    A figure in a tattered robe stepped out and pulled back his hood. His face was that of a badly mummified corpse or fresh inferus, with bits of bloodied skin hanging off. A whisp of salt and pepper hair hung above lidless eye sockets, from which black eyes stared out.
    The figure raised a strange wand, and Hagrid raised his umbrella. Before he could utter a shield charm, the figure gasped, looked at his own wand, and fled into the tree, which vanished with the same sound as before.
    Hagrid stared a moment at the spot where the tree had been, then hurried up to Hogwarts Castle to report the incident to Albus Dumbledore. 
Time For A Spell
Well, here's the first chapter of my first (hopefully not last) fanfic submission on DA. It contains a cosmetic detail that I might change in an edit; we'll see. Constructive criticism will be welcomed.
This takes place in spring 1975, when the Marauder generation are in their fourth year. 
Crossovers are my favourite type to do. Anyone who's followed my activity can probably tell what the other half of this is. 
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(Contains: ideologically sensitive material)
    It had been a tough day for Torchwood. Along with the rest of Cardiff, they had nearly choked to death on the poison smog that blanketed the Earth. Captain Jack Harkness, in fact, had choked to death; three times, getting samples of the exhaust for analysis.
    The process, he decided later, wasn't nearly as bad as the jokes he subsequently had to endure. Now, with the crisis over literally in a flash, all his colleague Gwen Cooper wanted was to go home to Rhys.
    Jack dropped her off at Rhys's building, then continued with Ianto Jones to the Hub; Torchwood's underground base beneath Roald Dahl Plaza. Pulling their SUV up to the water sculpture that concealed the entrance to their underground complex, Jack saw a sight that made his heart soar.
    In the Plaza, just three metres from the sculpture, was the comforting sight of a 1960s police box, in reality the disguised most advanced spacecraft in the universe.
    The TARDIS was there for refueling, her temporal engines drawing power from the dimensional rift that hovered near the Plaza. Standing outside the TARDIS were the Time Lord called the Doctor, and two women; one known to Jack, the other not.
    "Doctor!" Jack called out, his arms and smile wide. He hugged the Time Lord tightly, then the small black woman with the Doctor.
    "Martha." He then moved on to the tall, fortyish redhead.
    "Hi, I'm Jack."
    "I'm Donna," she said when she caught her breath. Jack then pulled Ianto forward.
    "And this is Ianto Jones," he said, kissing Ianto on the lips. Ianto gave a small, shy smile, and shook hands all 'round.
    "So," Jack said as they helped him and Ianto carry equipment into the Hub, "I take it you had something to do with that flash in the sky?"
    "All in a day's work for UNIT," Martha said, "Which he's still technically a member of, as a consultant."
    "After that," Donna said, "we went to a planet in the future- now that was a mess we landed in- came back to Earth, but landed up in the Cretaceous. We spent the night there- then?- and here we are. Been here 15 minutes, topping up the tank."
    "But now," Martha added, "we have to wait another two hours to take me home, or I'll get back before I left."

    Once all the equipment was put away, they went back up to enjoy the fresh air. They passed the time pleasantly, until it was time to go. Then Jack asked the question that the Doctor knew was coming.
    "Wherever it is you're going, can Ianto and I come along?"
    The Doctor pretended to think about it, but he'd already decided before stopping the TARDIS for refueling.
    "If the TARDIS has no objections, I don't see why not."
    Jack tried the door, and it opened for him. He held out his hand to Ianto, but his lover held back.
    "I'm not ready for that, he said. "Even with all I've seen with Torchwood, I'm not ready for the Doctor." He forced a smile; "but you go ahead."
    The Doctor suspected there was something more to the refusal. He did not normally pry into peoples's minds, but Ianto met his eyes, and he peeked.
    It wasn't the Doctor himself Ianto wasn't keen on- it was Jack with the Doctor. It  was easier to not think of Jack bedding other men if he did not see Jack flirting with them.
    "Are you sure? Jack asked, and Ianto assured him that he was. Although disappointed, Jack went into the TARDIS, followed by the women and the Doctor, who closed the door and started up the motor.
    "So, when are we off to?" Jack asked as the Doctor made his pre-flight preparations, dancing around the console, turning dials and flipping switches in rapid succession.
    "Well, first, right now," the Doctor replied. "Like Martha said, a side trip through space only, to drop her off a minute after we left; then it's off to your own century, the fifty first. There's a derelict ship I've been on board, which I want to see from the outside. I've some questions, and any hull damage might be a clue."
    He moved the main start lever. "Get your coat, Martha. Allons'y!"
    The TARDIS began to dematerialize, then lurched violently, landed hard, knocking everyone to the deck, and went dead.
    "Oh no!" the Doctor cried. "Not again!"
    As he reached for a section of deck plating, a power surge ran through the TARDIS's systems, shorting out the lights and the engineering segment on the console
    The Doctor leaped for the console as the TARDIS again went dark. Just as he reached it, a faint hum came from the console, and the monitor glowed.
    "Again," he said. "We're in another dimension; a parallel universe."
    "The Rift!" Jack said as he got to his feet. "It must have opened just as we dematerialized. These things happen in surges."
    "So what do we do now?" Martha asked.
    The Doctor noted that more systems were slowly coming to life.
        "That's not what I expected," he said, with a frown. "There seems to be an ambient power here that's compatible with rift energy, but stronger. Maybe we'd better see where we are."
    The monitor screen was only showing white flare, so he opened the door cautiously, then poked his head out.
    "Well," he said, opening the doors all the way, "we seem to be on an alternate Earth, early to mid Renaissance equivalent-" he stopped abruptly as they exited the TARDIS- "or a theme park".
    They were in a town square, the architecture indeed from the Renaissance period. Dawn was just breaking in the cloudless chill of spring, and in the gathering light, they clearly saw the sign on the pub in front of them.
    The Three Broomsticks.

    Martha was delighted, and ran out to the centre of the square.
    "It's perfect!" she cried. "Every detail, just like in the books!" She pointed down the street.
    "Look at the signs; Gambole & Jape's, Madame Puddifoot's, Zonko's, Honeyduke's. Do you think they take real money in the shops, or will we have to buy tokens at the main entrance?"
    She paused as she saw the faces of the others. "What's wrong?"
    "Take another look, Martha," the Doctor said quietly. "Look at the people."
    Martha looked around again. The crowd they were attracting looked like normal enough Harry Potter characters, but they were behaving very oddly for theme park staff. No one was scowling at the gate crashers, and no rent-a-cops or costumed security staff were approaching them. Instead, people were hugging the walls of buildings, or peering fearfully out of windows, and clutching wands like they were tazers.
    "It's not a theme park," the Doctor said. "I felt the power in the air right after I spoke. It's as strong as in the Citadel on Gallifrey, but a different sort. It's what surged through the TARDIS."
    Martha ran back to the Doctor. "How is that possible?"
    "Hang on," Donna said. "You mean we shot through that dimensional rift, and now we're in Harry Potter?
    "Well," he said, "the same dimension. If there's anything this will happen to, it's the TARDIS; relative dimensions."
    A sudden barrage of loud cracks in the air assaulted their ears, and they were surrounded by six angry, hardened looking men and women, all dressed in wizard world robes and pointing their wands at the TARDIS crew.
    "Transmats!" Jack cried, his blaster out, finger on the trigger.
    "Stupify!" a wizard shouted, and Jack fell to the ground, unconcious.
    "Incarcerus!" three others shouted, and ropes flew from their wands, binding the Doctor, Donna and Martha tightly.
    Donna shouted in outrage, but when a witch stood over her, wand pointed at her face, she fell silent. One of the wizards seemed to be in charge, and he approached the Doctor, standing menacingly over him.
    "Finally caught up with you," the wizard said, cold triumph in his voice. "Not so tough with your muscle unconcious. You are all under arrest for the murders you've committed."
    "What!?" the Doctor said in shock. "Hang on! Murders? What murders? Who are you?" He struggled to sit up.
    "Bartemius Crouch, head of Magical Law Enforcement, and there's no use claiming innocence. I know we'll find an extendability charm on that-" Crouch looked up to read the sign on the TARDIS- 'Police Public Call Box'"
    The Doctor stopped struggling.
    "Crouch. Chief Auror. So it's maybe early 1982 at the latest.
    "Which means," he added sharply, "Albus Dumbledore is Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. I demand to see Professor Dumbledore immediately!"
    "You'll see him at your trial," Crouch snapped. He turned to a young wizard behind the aurors. "Weasley, disenchant this thing, and return it to the muggle police."
    Arthur Weasly shifted uncomfortably.
    "Er, Mr. Crouch," he said, "we still need that , and with the charm on it. Evidence, you know; for the trial?"
    "You can't disenchant the TARDIS, anyway," the Doctor said with irritation. "She's beyond magic."
    One auror whirled on the Doctor in surprise.
    "TARDIS?!"
    He marched into the TARDIS for a look, then marched back out.
    "Nice try. The TARDIS is supposed to be white and not that big inside, no way can these three pass for Susan, Ian and Barbara, the Doctor is a little old man, and Doctor Who is a kids' television show."
    "What?! What?!" was all the Doctor could manage, but Donna was not so tongue tied.
    "Yeah, well Harry Potter is a bunch of kids' books!" she snapped.
    "We came through a dimensional rift," the Doctor said, knowing even as he spoke how weak it sounded. "Where we come from, the wizard world, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, they're fictional. Here, they're real"
    "And I suppose aliens with TARDISes are real where you come from?" the auror challenged sceptically. "So who's our killer, then? Got a Dalek with a shrink way in there, have you?"
    Crouch waved his wand over them, with the incantation, "Locomotor Hominum."
    The Doctor's companions floated up a metre and began to move, but the Doctor himself remained in place. The aurors and onlookers gasped. Crouch lost his focus, and the three dropped towards the ground. Before they hit, their fall was broken by an invisible cushion.
    "I'm not human," the Doctor said simply.
    "Evidently," said a calm, clear voice from the direction of the Three Broomsticks. A tall, thin, elderly wizard, his hair and beard grown down to his knees, was walking towards them, his wand pointed at the Doctor's companions. He moved the tip slightly and they sank gently to the ground.
    "Professor Dumbledore!" Martha cried out in relief. "Now we'll get to the bottom of this."
    Dumbledore smiled at her, then pointed his wand at the Doctor and said, "Natura Revelio."
    The Doctor felt the spell flow through him. Dumbledore gasped, then stared at him in awe.
    "So- old," he said almost in a whisper. "So- powerful. Lord-of-Time."
    Seconds passed, then Dumbledore made up his mind and waved his wand again.
    "Relashio," he said. The ropes vanised, and Doctor and the women got to their feet while Dumbledore revived Jack, over Crouch's vehement protests. Dumbledore silenced Crouch with a raised hand.
    "The spell revealed that this unearthly man is a powerful force for good, and his companions are merely muggles," he said.
    "Oi! What's that 'merely' stuff, magic man?" Donna said.
    Jack broke in, "And if muggles means what it sounds like it means--"
    "Not now, Jack," the Doctor interrupted.
    Dumbledore smiled again. "You and your companions have me at a disadvantage, sir. This young woman who has such faith in me, for example."
    "Ah. May I introduce Dr. Martha Jones, Miss Donna Noble and Captain Jack Harkness; and I'm known as the Doctor."
    Dumbledore shook hands all around, then cast a patronus. Donna let out a low whistle as the silver form of the phoenix flew over the treetops at the edge of town.
    The Doctor locked the TARDIS, then turned to the muggle reared auror.
    "You mentioned a shrink ray?"
    The auror looked hesitantly at Crouch, who conjured a box about thirty centimetres long, and shoved it with ill grace into the auror's hands.
    "I want a full report by five o'clock, Arkwright," he said, and apparated out along with the rest of his wizard SWAT team.
    "And you better read it, Sunshine!" Donna shouted into the air.
    "Donna-" the Doctor hustled her after Dumbledore towards the Three Broomsticks.
    "I know how you boss types are-"
    "Donna-!"
    "I'm the top temp in Cheswick-"
    "Donna! He was in London before you got one word out."
    "Oh? Where are we?"
    "Scotland," he said as he pulled her in the door, followed by Weasley.

    Dumbledore led them to a booth in the back corner, and Madam Rosmerta came to get their orders. Arkwright was on duty, so ordered tea, while Weasley had a light ale. Understanding that the Doctor and his companions would not have wizard money, Dumbledore offered to buy their drinks.
    The Doctor and Martha ordered butterbeer and suggested it to Donna, who agreed. Jack wanted something stronger, and the
Doctor ordered firewhisky for him.
    "Shrink ray," the Doctor said. Arkwright handed the Doctor the box, and the Doctor opened the lid. His blood ran cold when he saw the contents. The perfectly miniturized corpse was an unmistakable signature. He lifted it out of the box while the auror spoke.
    "This was the third known victim. If you pull up the left sleeve and use a magnifying glass, you'll see on his arm a brand of a skull with-"
    "The Dark Mark," the Doctor interrupted.  "So he was a Death Eater. Any significance?"
    "We don't know. He was shopping in a place known for catering to Dark wizards. When we investigated the proprietor on an unrelated matter, he turned the body over and said he'd reported it to you-know-who"
    "I don't," Donna and Jack said in chorus, then exchanged looks.
    "Voldemort," the Doctor said, just as Rosmerta brought the tray with their drinks. She dropped it, but Dumbledore brought the drinks floating to the table as the tray fell to the floor.
    The Doctor quickly picked it up and handed it to Madam Rosemerta.
    "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you."
    Shaking her head, Rosemerta walked away, muttering, "Fool'll be dead tomorrow, that's certain."
    "The next victim was another Death Eater. You-know-who witnessed it himself, and was concerned enough to report it himself to Dumbledore."
    Dumbledore took his cue and conjured the letter that contained Voldemort's report of the incident outside the Hog's Head. The Doctor read it, then leaned back, nodding, his hands behind his head.
    "And the first two victims?"
    Arthur Weasley told of the witch from Birmingham with her tale of the telephone box, and how the first two bodies were found. The Doctor quickly leaned forward.
    "And that would have made it into the Daily Prophet. Mr. Arkwright, am I correct in assuming that the entire population of Hogsmeade is wizard reared?"
    "Yes. The boomer generation of muggleborns is less willing to break ties with the muggle world. Bagpipes and lutes are nice, but we still want The Beatles, James Bond and, well, you."
    "So to the people here, a police box and a telephone box would be indistinguishable. Well, that explains the reception we got. Normally, anybody conjuring a police box into Hogsmeade would just get yelled at."
    Weasley added, "And fined."
    Arkwright continued, "We attempted to restore the first two bodies to full size, but they fell into dust; because, it turned out, most of their celular mass was gone. So much for introducing forensic pathology to the wizard world."
    The Doctor stood up and restlessly paced the floor.
    "And Voldemort has been the only real witness?"
    "Not quite," Dumbledore said. "Rubeus Hagrid, our gamekeeper at Hogwarts, was this mystery killer's next attempt. He saw a tree appear in the Forbidden Forest. A door opened in it, and Hagrid said he was not coming in. A man came out and pointed a strange wand. Apparently his spell didn't work, because he fled back into the tree, which faded away."
    The Doctor had turned sharply on hearing that Hagrid had seen a man.
    "Did Hagrid see this man's face?"
    "Yes. He described it as looking like an Egyptian mummy- he's seen photographs- but the flesh was fresh and the eyes like those of a living man."
    The Doctor leaned quickly across the table, almost in Arkwright's face.
    "You need to get back to the office," he said. Find out if there have been any mysterious muggle disappearances. Look for any mention in the tabloids of voodoo; poppets like these shrunken bodies. Start before the first known wizard killing."
    "You know what's going on, Doctor, don't you?" Jack asked.
    "And you should, too, Jack. Surely Torchwood has some record. And Martha, didn't you read UNIT's file on me?"
    His pacing turned to long strides, moving him all over half the room at a dizzying speed.
    "Bodies compressed by cellular elimination, a TARDIS with a functioning chameleon circuit, a living corpse; oh, it all adds up. No wonder the TARDIS took that flying leap through the rift; she was chasing him!"
    "Chasing who?!" Donna cried out in exasperation.
    The Doctor slammed the palm of his hand against a post.
    "The Master!"               
Time For A Spell - Chapter 2
Slightly non-canonical, as I have Donna and Jack meeting prior to The Stolen Earth. This take place between scenes in The Doctor's Daughter.
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I've posted the second chapter of my fanfic a few hours ago, and just re-labled it as sci-fi.
Does anyone know how I can make it come up on the Harry Potter and Doctor Who search pages? I'm not finding it at all except on my profile.
I tried to share my fic with a facebook friend, but it popped up with an accompanying picture. I have no idea whose it is, and the link wanted to give me the credit for it. If I find it again with the proper credit, I'll let the artist know.
Well, here's my first fanfic submission on dA. Hope you like it.

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BillieMac
BillieMac
Canada
I grew up in Vancouver, but lived in Victoria for eight years and now live on a semi rural island in Georgia Straight.
That's all I'm willing to say here for now, but you can learn more from my posts on Leaky Cauldron and The Discussion Station.
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:iconuncle-bilbo:
uncle-bilbo Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2014
Thought you might like. Colin Baker introducing the Orion spacecraft on NASA TV
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JPSN4P…
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:iconbilliemac:
BillieMac Featured By Owner Nov 11, 2014
Thanks.  There are a lot of other celebrity endorsements, including one from Nichelle Nicholes

I checked out the 7 minute one; the pitch with the guy from NASA. It's basically an updated version of the Apollo spacecraft, so I guess they've decided this is the most efficient type for exploration. The space shuttle seems to have been best for orbital repairs and maintenance. (Now, if they'd just get something to pick up all that clutter. Half those satellites don't even work anymore.)
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:iconuncle-bilbo:
uncle-bilbo Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2014
My theory is that Colin Baker is turning into Father Christmas. Or Richard Attenburough, more or less the same thing. Which does make me wonder what happened to Father Christmas. In the BBC production of Narnia in the late 80's, he was still Father Christmas in green. In the preview of the Doctor Who Christmas Special, he’s now Santa Claus is red. Is this part of Britain becoming more like North American because of the import of movies and TV, or just the show aiming toward an international audience? I remember when I was really young, ‘autos’ had ‘boots’ and ‘bonnets’ in movies that were already getting a little old. These days, British cars have hoods and trunks.

The Orion is the ‘return from Mars’ spacecraft. It has to have the radiation shielding to protect a crew for two years and then hit the atmosphere at least half again faster than an orbital reentry and has to have a heat shield that can take about twice as much heat. I have NasaTV on Directv and sometimes watch it while working. There were a couple of extended segments with Nichelle Nichols in a tour a couple of years ago, and Leonard Nimoy did an intro last year. Also William Shatner’s ‘wake-up call’ to Discover during its last flight www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrApsz…
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:iconbilliemac:
BillieMac Featured By Owner Nov 12, 2014
Have you ever heard of Jamie Matheson? If not, you should google him.
He's a regular attendee at V-Con (Vancouver), although he missed this year's, and is a professor (emeritus? have to ask him) at the University of British Columbia. Anyway, he's been involved in a number of private research satellites, and his lectures are interesting and entertaining.
There's just been one problem. At last year's gripe session, I suggested that he be booked for two hours, but told it's for one. Two seats away, a former student of his seconded.
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:iconbilliemac:
BillieMac Featured By Owner May 10, 2013
I'm not an artist- just an art fan, and I joined to gain access to the rest of "Fond Recollections".
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:iconfondrecollections:
FondRecollections Featured By Owner May 13, 2013
:wave: Hello, you! :heart:
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