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sandystarr88.livejournal.com) wrote in
crack_van2010-06-15 11:01 am
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Entry tags:
Harry Potter / Doctor Who (R)
Title: The Perfect Blue Sky by angelofcaffeine
Pairing: Harry/Draco, The Doctor
Length: ~25,000
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: Masterlist of Fic
Why this must be read:
Because this story has everything I love in my fan fiction: plot, romance, mystery, as well as a little bit of redemption. This author has done such a great job bringing these two universes together in a believable way, and letting both the Doctor and Draco shine in this wonderful crossover.
“You, sir! Excuse me!”
“Yes?” Draco snapped, finally stopping completely and turning around. The man almost bumped into him, then stepped back, eyes bright and wild. For a brief moment, Draco was honestly scared.
“Hello,” he grinned, eyes glinting. Draco swallowed. “Sorry to bother you, but... where exactly are we?”
“You don’t know where we are,” Draco deadpanned, glancing around at the shops and people that littered Diagon Alley.
The man scratched his head, further messing up his brown hair. “Well, see, the thing is,” he started, staring confusedly at a shop whose sign was glittering with fairies trapped in jars, “I’m a traveller of sorts. And I’m a bit... lost. And confused. Very confused. Could you tell me where we are?”
Draco raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and replied, “Diagon Alley.” He watched as the man’s eyes widened, then narrowed, looking up and down the street.
“Oh,” he said, eyes zooming in on the fairies yet again as if realising where they were. “That’s... Oh.” Draco glanced at the watch attached to his blue robes. Upon seeing that he was now fifteen minutes late, he turned and walked away from the madman in the street. “Wait! Excuse me!” the man called after him.
Draco stopped, clenched his fists and asked, “What?”
For once, the man actually seemed to recognise that Draco wasn’t exactly in the mood for a chat, and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but could you just... tell me what year it is?”
The irritated expression faded from Draco’s features. “Step out of the sunlight a moment,” he ordered in a clipped tone. The man followed him, looking curious. “Look at me.” Draco lifted up his wand and whispered: “Lumos .” The man flinched backwards, eyes widening, but Draco clasped one hand around the back of his head – why did he have to be so bloody tall? – and shone the light into his eyes. “Head injury?” he asked, and the man tried to shake his head. Draco’s fingernails bit into the sensitive skin on the back of his neck and he winced. “Your pupils look okay. I think you might’ve been hit by a spell, though. I can do some simple charms to see what the problem is, but your best bet is St Mungo’s.”
“St Mungo’s!” the man replied, eyes brightening again. “Oh, that’s just brilliant. But no, I’m not hurt, I’m just... lost.”
“Lost in time?” Draco asked, distain staining his voice.
“Something like that. So what’s the year?” Draco ended the spell for light, and with his left hand dug his fingers into the man’s hair, searching for a lump or a knot.
“It’s 2003,” Draco informed him, sounding exasperated. “Who did you say you are?”
“I don’t believe I did,” the man smiled, face close enough that Draco could count the pale freckles. Satisfied that there wasn’t any sign of injury on the man’s head, he pulled away.
Draco glanced down at the small clock face once again, and sighed. “I have a lunch date,” he informed the man. “You are going to check yourself into St Mungo’s. Tell them Draco sent you.”
“Draco Malfoy?” the Doctor asked in a disbelieving voice, and Draco sighed. It was going to be one of those days. “Well, look at you, you’re all grown up! I’m the Doctor, nice to meet you.” He shook Draco’s hand enthusiastically, grinning.
“Pleasure,” Draco replied in a flat tone, snatching his hand back when the Doctor’s grip slacked. “I’m going to go now,” he said slowly, trying to make the strange man understand, and then turned and walked away. He wasn’t even surprised when he heard the Doctor’s footsteps falling beside his own.
“So, where are we going?” he asked, looking around curiously like some unruly child.
Draco felt that if he sighed much more he would begin to turn into his mother. That was a rather scary thought.
“I,” Draco replied, annoyance giving way to simple exasperation, “am going to have lunch with Pansy. You are stalking me.”
“Pansy Parkinson?” the Doctor asked and then laughed loudly. “Pansy Parkinson! Tell me, did you two ever get married?”
Draco gave him a confused glance. “No, we’ve never—what did you say your name was? Doctor what?”
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” he replied, in a light voice.
Draco frowned, wondering when he had stopped trying to walk away from and begun walking with the man.
“So what am I supposed to call you? Doctor what?”
“Just call me Doctor, Draco. Draco. Hah! I like saying that. Dray-co. You have a strange name. Did you know it’s the name of a constellation? Full of galaxies, beautiful, all of them. And the Cat’s Eye Nebula. When—”
“Doctor,” Draco interrupted him, shaking his head. “If you’ve been hit by a spell, you should really be at St Mungo’s.”
The Doctor shook his head. “Nah, I’m always like this. Well, not always. Most of the time though. I don’t need medical attention—Hey, do you even call it ‘medical attention’ here? I bet you call it something like, I don’t know, ‘magical attention’.” The Doctor paused only for a moment before adding, “Well, I guess ‘magical attention’ could be a lot of things. Could be romantic. Draco?”
“Yes, Doctor?” Draco replied, beginning to wonder after his sanity as he continued to walk alongside the madman.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asked, one hand grasping lightly at his arm. “Oh, I bet you’re the type that doesn’t listen.”
“Do I know you?” Draco asked, pulling his arm away. “Because you’re acting like you know me. Or are you just making assumptions from War books and the Prophet? I can assure you that neither tend to be exactly accurate.”
The Doctor suddenly looked rather serious, staring at him, and then he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Best not to judge someone based on someone else’s perspective.”
Draco looked straight back at him. “Yes. Precisely.” He spent a moment just watching the Doctor, and then blinked and shook his head. “I have to go, I’m already late.” He opened his mouth as if to say goodbye, then frowned deeply. The Doctor smiled brightly back at him, as Draco took a step backward, then turned around to walk away.
The man’s laughter followed him down the street, and Draco chose not to examine the reasoning behind his own smile.
The Perfect Blue Sky
Pairing: Harry/Draco, The Doctor
Length: ~25,000
Author on LJ: [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Author Website: Masterlist of Fic
Why this must be read:
Because this story has everything I love in my fan fiction: plot, romance, mystery, as well as a little bit of redemption. This author has done such a great job bringing these two universes together in a believable way, and letting both the Doctor and Draco shine in this wonderful crossover.
“You, sir! Excuse me!”
“Yes?” Draco snapped, finally stopping completely and turning around. The man almost bumped into him, then stepped back, eyes bright and wild. For a brief moment, Draco was honestly scared.
“Hello,” he grinned, eyes glinting. Draco swallowed. “Sorry to bother you, but... where exactly are we?”
“You don’t know where we are,” Draco deadpanned, glancing around at the shops and people that littered Diagon Alley.
The man scratched his head, further messing up his brown hair. “Well, see, the thing is,” he started, staring confusedly at a shop whose sign was glittering with fairies trapped in jars, “I’m a traveller of sorts. And I’m a bit... lost. And confused. Very confused. Could you tell me where we are?”
Draco raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms, and replied, “Diagon Alley.” He watched as the man’s eyes widened, then narrowed, looking up and down the street.
“Oh,” he said, eyes zooming in on the fairies yet again as if realising where they were. “That’s... Oh.” Draco glanced at the watch attached to his blue robes. Upon seeing that he was now fifteen minutes late, he turned and walked away from the madman in the street. “Wait! Excuse me!” the man called after him.
Draco stopped, clenched his fists and asked, “What?”
For once, the man actually seemed to recognise that Draco wasn’t exactly in the mood for a chat, and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but could you just... tell me what year it is?”
The irritated expression faded from Draco’s features. “Step out of the sunlight a moment,” he ordered in a clipped tone. The man followed him, looking curious. “Look at me.” Draco lifted up his wand and whispered: “Lumos .” The man flinched backwards, eyes widening, but Draco clasped one hand around the back of his head – why did he have to be so bloody tall? – and shone the light into his eyes. “Head injury?” he asked, and the man tried to shake his head. Draco’s fingernails bit into the sensitive skin on the back of his neck and he winced. “Your pupils look okay. I think you might’ve been hit by a spell, though. I can do some simple charms to see what the problem is, but your best bet is St Mungo’s.”
“St Mungo’s!” the man replied, eyes brightening again. “Oh, that’s just brilliant. But no, I’m not hurt, I’m just... lost.”
“Lost in time?” Draco asked, distain staining his voice.
“Something like that. So what’s the year?” Draco ended the spell for light, and with his left hand dug his fingers into the man’s hair, searching for a lump or a knot.
“It’s 2003,” Draco informed him, sounding exasperated. “Who did you say you are?”
“I don’t believe I did,” the man smiled, face close enough that Draco could count the pale freckles. Satisfied that there wasn’t any sign of injury on the man’s head, he pulled away.
Draco glanced down at the small clock face once again, and sighed. “I have a lunch date,” he informed the man. “You are going to check yourself into St Mungo’s. Tell them Draco sent you.”
“Draco Malfoy?” the Doctor asked in a disbelieving voice, and Draco sighed. It was going to be one of those days. “Well, look at you, you’re all grown up! I’m the Doctor, nice to meet you.” He shook Draco’s hand enthusiastically, grinning.
“Pleasure,” Draco replied in a flat tone, snatching his hand back when the Doctor’s grip slacked. “I’m going to go now,” he said slowly, trying to make the strange man understand, and then turned and walked away. He wasn’t even surprised when he heard the Doctor’s footsteps falling beside his own.
“So, where are we going?” he asked, looking around curiously like some unruly child.
Draco felt that if he sighed much more he would begin to turn into his mother. That was a rather scary thought.
“I,” Draco replied, annoyance giving way to simple exasperation, “am going to have lunch with Pansy. You are stalking me.”
“Pansy Parkinson?” the Doctor asked and then laughed loudly. “Pansy Parkinson! Tell me, did you two ever get married?”
Draco gave him a confused glance. “No, we’ve never—what did you say your name was? Doctor what?”
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” he replied, in a light voice.
Draco frowned, wondering when he had stopped trying to walk away from and begun walking with the man.
“So what am I supposed to call you? Doctor what?”
“Just call me Doctor, Draco. Draco. Hah! I like saying that. Dray-co. You have a strange name. Did you know it’s the name of a constellation? Full of galaxies, beautiful, all of them. And the Cat’s Eye Nebula. When—”
“Doctor,” Draco interrupted him, shaking his head. “If you’ve been hit by a spell, you should really be at St Mungo’s.”
The Doctor shook his head. “Nah, I’m always like this. Well, not always. Most of the time though. I don’t need medical attention—Hey, do you even call it ‘medical attention’ here? I bet you call it something like, I don’t know, ‘magical attention’.” The Doctor paused only for a moment before adding, “Well, I guess ‘magical attention’ could be a lot of things. Could be romantic. Draco?”
“Yes, Doctor?” Draco replied, beginning to wonder after his sanity as he continued to walk alongside the madman.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asked, one hand grasping lightly at his arm. “Oh, I bet you’re the type that doesn’t listen.”
“Do I know you?” Draco asked, pulling his arm away. “Because you’re acting like you know me. Or are you just making assumptions from War books and the Prophet? I can assure you that neither tend to be exactly accurate.”
The Doctor suddenly looked rather serious, staring at him, and then he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Best not to judge someone based on someone else’s perspective.”
Draco looked straight back at him. “Yes. Precisely.” He spent a moment just watching the Doctor, and then blinked and shook his head. “I have to go, I’m already late.” He opened his mouth as if to say goodbye, then frowned deeply. The Doctor smiled brightly back at him, as Draco took a step backward, then turned around to walk away.
The man’s laughter followed him down the street, and Draco chose not to examine the reasoning behind his own smile.
The Perfect Blue Sky