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

Chapter Twenty-three: Headmistress McGonagall

A/N: Update late?! Bane my dentist, writers' block, and the sthoopid Wattpad app! Oh, and camping. #Footsunburns&beachgrasslodgedinfeet Wattpad is great- the app is crap. This is the fourth draft that Wattpad has subsequently deleted. (excuse me non-sensical, I feel obligated to write this but I'm SO TIRED.) If you need to kill me, you can- just make sure to hire a good detective, okay? JUST NOT ANDERSON. One of my friends threatened me with that. I'll stop talking now. Oh- wait- new official Ship Name is Malonynous. It's genius, I know- but I didn't come up with it. It was entirely @Olethia !

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Chapter Twenty-three: Headmistress McGonagall

As I sat in History of Magic, which I basically considered time to work on the rest of my schoolwork, and everyone else saw as "time to sleep and/or pass notes", Eleanor passed me a note. I wasn't sure whether to consider this an improvement or not.

I carefully unfolded the slip of frayed paper. In a wide, scribbly scrawl it read, "Is Ari cute? Y/N."

I just shot her a disapproving look and an eye roll, and tossed the note to the Hufflepuff girl next to me, who was painting her nails with her quill. She gave me a confused look and crumpled up the note.

When the bell finally rang, Eleanor grabbed me by the bag in the corridor.

"Seriously, though." she said.

I sighed deeply. Romance wasn't exactly my area of expertise.

"Uh- no." I wasn't going to tell her that, as a general rule, relationships with someone who has one-tenth your lifespan don't work out. I wasn't going to tell her that I found Ari to be an interesting person- she'd just take it the wrong way. But I could tell her that I wasn't interested. "I'm going to be late for Potions," I said, yanking my bag away and attempting to escape.

"Wait! I have a letter for you," she added, tossing me a creamy white envelope and begrudgingly stalking away.

Intrigued, I ripped it open.

"Dear Amelia,

Please join me for tea. My office is located behind the gargoyles in the Headmaster's Tower. The password is "Albus". I trust you know which gargoyles.

-Headmistress Minerva McGonagall"

In fact, I DID know which gargoyles she meant. I'd studied a map of the castle a few nights ago, just in case.

Hoping Professor Slughorn would understand, I hurried off.

The Headmaster's tower was in a much less traversed part of the school- in fact there was no one around, save for the straggling Fourth Year or the giggling Seventh Year couple that dashed past.

I found the gargoyles with ease.

"Hello," I said tentatively.

"'Ello, Missus!" replied the gargoyle on the left. "Whatcha doin ere'?"

"I'm here to see the Headmistress."

"An what's the password?" asked the gargoyle, folding his arms defiantly with a horrid, grinding and scraping noise.

"Albus?"

The gargoyle made a face as it slid aside to reveal a moving staircase.

I ascended to a gigantic wooden door and gingerly knocked.

"Come in," called a voice.

I opened the door into the most beautiful room in the castle so far.

Books- on bookshelves from floor to ceiling. Cases and cases of precariously organized, strange silver instruments. Portraits lined the far wall behind the desk, which rose from the floor on a majestic dais.

I shuffled up to the desk, where a stern-looking woman in flowing, emerald-and-silver robes sat.

She flashed a tiny smile, crow's feet and age lines wrinkling her face for a fraction of a second before falling back into austerity.

"Ginger newt?" she asked, offering me a tin.

"Oh- no, thank you."

She withdrew a lizard-shaped cookie and replaced the tin.

"You're probably wondering why I REALLY asked you here today." she said conversationally as she poured me some tea.

"Yes, I was. And I was also wondering quite a lot more. Just- over a wide timeframe. I've been wondering since I got here."

"All in due time. All in due time. I've called you here mostly to answer those questions, and to ask some of my own. A question for a question."

"All right." I paused, thinking for a second. "Why am I so- not good at magic?"

"Ah, I noticed. Barely passing in every class."

"Except potions," I reminded her.

The Headmistress' eyes sparkled. "Ah, yes. I've been getting quite an account of your skill from Horace. You should be expecting an invitation to his- what is it- "Slug Club" any day now.

"As to your magic- to be truly skilled at magic, one must have an innate ability. Everyone is invited here if we notice that they have that ability." she paused.

"But I don't. I don't have that ability. So why have me here?"

"Hold on, Amelia. A question for a question," she replied, taking a nibble of the ginger newt. "Now you tell me- where do you hail from?"

I sucked in a breath, ready to launch into a rehearsed answer of my foster home-

"Where you really come from. Not where you live."

I bit my lip and combed a hand through my hair.

"I-um. Gallifrey." I hoped she wouldn't press, but I kept taking anyway without a prompt. "There was a big war, and I left. Ended up here. I'm a Time Lady."

A hint of recognition flashed across her face and she nodded.

"Now- why you are here. A long chain of events led up to your acceptance. Your apparently magical energy when you first arrived- you were practically radiating it. All of the unexplained happenings surrounding you. But to put it in the most simple terms possible- there was a prophecy."

"There's ALWAYS a prophecy." I muttered. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and in rushed a ruffled-looking Hagrid.

"And that, I'm afraid, concludes our meeting."