The Adventures of a Girl Who Should Not Exist (Doctor Who/ Harry Potter Crossover)

Chapter One: An introduction and a goodbye

A/N: Thanks for reading this! Note that I DON'T own Doctor Who or Harry Potter, or any affiliated characters settings and stuff.
Note on the setting- this Earth notably has Doctor Who as a show, but there is no Harry Potter series. (What a world!)

Chapter One: An introduction and a goodbye
My EXISTANCE shouldn't even exist- Wait a second. That makes no sense.
But actually, it's a good metaphor for my life. It hasn't exactly been a cloud of puffy marshmallows.
Let's see... Living peacefully on your home planet, training to be a Time Lady, and all of the sudden, out of bleeding NOWHERE, a huge armada of genocidal trash cans with laser arms bent on the extermination of everything have just killed pretty much everybody you know. So, you do what comes naturally: you hide. In a junk TARDIS that you are sure is NEVER going to fly. Except it does fly. And you aren't exactly expecting it, and you don't exactly know how the heck to FLY a TARDIS.
So you end up on Earth, like we always seem to do. Except you sustained a fatal head injury from a really sucky landing. (Or is that just me?) So you learn, the hard way, (Is there an easy way?) what regenerating's like. I can't exactly recommend it.
And there you are. On an unfamiliar planet, pretty sure your entire race is dead, and looking like a ten-year old. (For your information, I am 87, which is pretty much the equivalent of a ten-year-old on my planet.)
Luckily, you're "adopted" by a kind family of humans. (You can't be legally adopted because there are no records of you whatsoever.)
That's how my life started out- pre-teen torn from home by the war, finding a new home with humans. And even by that point I almost shouldn't have existed. And then life decided to tune up that aspect of not being supposed to exist by throwing a couple other surprises my way.
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May 2nd, 2013 11:26 P.M.
Tick. Tick. Tick. I sat alone in the darkened living room, listening to the mantle clock count down the minutes until my 88th birthday.
We would be celebrating it like my 11th birthday, because I hadn't actually told my adoptive parents about my planet yet.
was still excited. 88 year old Time Ladies aren't exactly old by our standards, and I was still a kid. So I was excited for my birthday.
had planned to stay up until midnight, and so far I was succeeding. I had discovered an AMAZING TV show yesterday, so I was sitting all alone in the living room in the wee hours of the night, the volume down to 0 so it looked as if all the characters were miming their lines.
I had lost interest in the plot, so I was reflecting on my past as a Time Tot. I let the blue glow of the television set overwhelm me as I entered my memories.
I was jarred from my trance by a sharp clanging.
The mantle clock was chiming twelve! I was officially 88, or on this planet 11.
I dragged myself off the couch, feeling surprisingly sleepy, and quietly went up the stairs. I shut the door to my bedroom, closing myself in. I fell backwards onto the bed, sighed as I curled up under the blankets, and was instantly asleep.
I woke up about an hour later, feeling extremely refreshed. I wondered what had brought about this bout of tiredness, because I had just slept last night! Either way, I was awake now, so I set about baking a cake. I felt obligated to bake a cake for some reason or another, so after reading through four cookbooks in 24 seconds (a record!) I felt I got the gist of it.
My first try came out of the oven smelling good but badly burnt. The second was goopy and melted into a puddle. The third one finally came out golden and firm. It tasted a little funky because I'd forgotten the eggs and replaced it with twice as much sugar, but it would do when it was smothered in frosting.
whipped up a rainbow of various frostings and began to painstakingly decorate the cake.
I stopped for a moment to wonder why humans spent their time doing this before I stepped back to admire my handiwork.
It looked like a psychedelic dog buiscuit, but I bet it tasted okay.
I shoved it in the fridge and returned to my room where I lay on the bed thinking. Just thinking.