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

Chapter Twenty-nine: Nightmares

A/N: Okay. I fractured my ulna with an apple. It sucked. I'm not even kidding. It's a long story, but basically I was running across the asphalt field thing outside my school with an apple and I tripped and chaos ensued.
Apples are rubbish.
I hate apples.
:)
I'm okay now. Mostly. Kinda. I can write again, which is lurvely. Positively lurvely.
I hate the Wattpad app for deleting this chapter.
Twice.

Chapter Thirty: Nightmares
I read for a few hours before heading up to bed. Grumpy and non-social, I ignored my dorm-mates and went to bed in my uniform. When you have an incredibly traumatic childhood, it usually tends to reflect poorly on your dreams. I could tell beforehand it was going to be a bad night, but I was just so tired...
I opened my eyes and gazed around. I was in a dark room- smooth-walled and empty, but for a shadowy figure in the corner.
"Hello?" I said nervously.
"He-lo," it replied. My eyes widened and then I was falling-
All around me lay the ruins of Arcadia, my home. Pieces of the magnificent towers, shattered and burning. My feet were glued to the spot. All around me, I could hear the screams of the Gallifreyans and the cries of "EX-TERM-I-NATE!!" that ripped through the air.
Even though I knew it would happen, knew the ending of the battle in its midst, it still hurt me like a sword to the stomach to see it.
Arcadia's center, the largest remaining fortification on Gallifrey, was protected by a large spherical barrier. Break that, Gallifrey falls.
Under the fire of the Daleks, it faltered once, twice, and then fell. The central towers collapsed in a flurry of burning rubble and the screams of those underneath.
A family with three young children ran by, fleeing the Dalek coming up the street. I could do nothing to save them; my feet were firmly planted. As I tried to pull them loose, I recognized the floorboards. Fresh tears cascaded down my face as I realized I stood in the ruins of my own home.
The Dalek slowly turned to face me, pointing its gun at my tear-stained face.
I woke myself up screaming.
Feeling my face sticky and stiff with dried tears, I hoped beyond hope that the walls of the compartments were thicker than they looked.
They weren't. A few seconds later, I heard a timid tap on the door.
"Nightmares," I choked.
"Oh. Okay." Imogene said quietly.
I lay back on the bed. The sun was already rising.
It was the weekend, but I had no appetite for social interaction. I got up and scrubbed the tears from my face, shrugged on a sweater and put on a pair of jeans, and headed down to the great hall.
Early morning at Hogwarts was magnificent. The large, cavernous hallways that usually seems cozy were cold and stony, but held a certain special beauty that they did not at any other time of the day.
The great hall was mostly empty, save for the Hufflepuff Quiddich team, who were feasting merrily off in a corner, likely getting ready for an early practice.
I fixed myself a cup of tea and sat sipping it with my knees curled to my chest. Normally days like this would be inventing days- I would hide in my room and tinker with something or other to pass the time. However, at a magic school, I was rather at a loss for where to find some technological components.
I had read somewhere about a room that did your bidding somewhere on the seventh floor, so, cup of tea in hand, I set out to find it.
The corridors were empty, save for a few remaining House Elves from
the night shift, which provided calming solitude and quiet. It was quite lovely, really, exploring the castle with no one else around.
Finally, after pacing around the seventh floor several times, a door melted into existance on the wall next to me. I took note of the tapestry across from it- an interesting work depicting a nutty looking man in neon purple robes and a horde of angry, greenish beasts in tutus- before slipping inside.
The room was a sight to behold- piles and piles of technological refuse lay all around, interspersed by an occasional workable. It was an inventors' paradise.
I scoped up a hefty pile of junk and paused to think for a minute. I could have use of a multitool- back at the Academy, almost all of the older students carried a tool of sorts. I'd heard that the Doctor, famous outlaw himself, had carried a sonic screwdriver.
I felt something click, deep within my mind. The Doctor, the TV show I'd seen... the time lord was one and the same. Did I really want to meet one of Gallifrey's top criminals, even if he was the only other Gallifreyan left?
I needed to take my mind off of things. So I grabbed a pair of pliers and set to work.

A/N: I'd also like to add the fact that when people asked me why I was wearing a cast, I said that I got attacked by Cybermen. I also said that I fell off my broomstick at Quiddich Practice, got pushed off a roof by Moriarty, and broke my arm fighting a HYDRA sleeper agent.
Nobody suspected the apple.