Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the creation of J.K. Rowling, and Doctor  
who is the property of BBC1. No money is being made from this and no  
such intent should be inferred.

Arcadia
Deep Space . . .
Gallifreyan Year 58712345

Romanadvoratrelundar (Romana for short) of the House of Senschear,  
first to gain the triple score on the Chronos Academy entrance exam  
and current Lady President of Gallifrey swore as the Presidential  
TARDIS (Really her own personal TARDIS, but she was Lady President  
and so . . .)lurched and heaved like like a wounded near-whale. Its  
crew numbered five hundred, who were scattered throughout it's  
massive interior like confetti. On the bridge were only three people;  
Romana, and her two assistants.

"What in the name of Rassilon was that?" Romana demanded, grabbing  
the console for balance.

"Photonic wave," Teneer snapped, fingers jabbing at the controls for  
both the temporal circuit and the field controls.

"The emperor has come up with some new tricks," Gandhof muttered from  
his place at the weapons array.

Romana huffed and shoved the drive controls into full power as she  
unleashed x-ray gamma beams at the Dalek fleet. On the screen, Dalek  
ships exploded or spun wildly away, venting plasma as they lost control.

But for every Dalek ship lost, several more Time Lords went with them.

"What's that phrase those Terrans use?" Teneer asked wryly. "Ring the  
bell, we are being given an education."

"The phrase is "I hear a bell ringing, someone is getting schooled,"  
said a voice from the screen. "There are variations, of course."

"Doctor," Romana said, relieved. "So glad you could join us."

"The invitation was exquisite. How could I say no?"

Romana's lips quirked in an unwilling smile. "Doctor, the Daleks are  
slaughtering us, there's indications of a temporal wave buildup  
and . . ."

"Yes?"

Romana took a deep breath. "The human Ace died two minutes into the  
attack, taking a Dalek ship with her and blunting their first strike.  
I'm sorry."

The Doctor inhaled through clenched teeth and a momentary look of  
pain crossed his face and just as quickly vanished. "She died as she  
lived." He shook his head to banish memories. "We said goodbye a long  
time ago." He glanced at something on his console that she couldn't  
see  "The Dalek fleet, time running out,  and impossible odds," he  
mused.

"So ten Terran minutes?" Romana asked lightly.

"Don't be daft," he replied. "Five." The screen went back to the  
tactical display and a moment later, the Doctor's TARDIS vanished.

The TARDIS heaved again and Romana returned her attention to her  
console. Five minutes . . .

* * * *

In fact, it was five hours before the Doctor's TARDIS reappeared and  
he hailed them. By then, the tide of the battle had turned decisively  
in favor of the Daleks.

"Well?" Romana snapped. She'd long since lost any appetite for  
banter. Half her crew was dead and there were far too few TARDIS' on  
the tactical display.

Romana," he said, his face grave. "I'm sorry, I . . ."

No, no, he could not have failed. He's the Doctor. The savior. The  
one Time Lord that even the Daleks feared.

"I'm invoking the Immasol. It took me a while to track one down."

The room lurched and it had nothing to do with the war.

"Are you insane?" Gandhof shouted. "You can't--"

Romana gestured him to silence with a sharp motion of her hand.  
"Doctor, are you sure?"

"It's the Daleks or us," he said with dry humor. "I'd rather it was  
the Daleks."

Romana closed her eyes. "All right, Doctor, get it set up and I'll  
open the com links for activation."

"No need."

"What do you mean, you--" she suddenly realized what he had planned.  
"Doctor, you can't!"

"I can, and I must," he replied.

"I'm giving you an order!"

"Then you can arrest me afterwards. Two minutes." he said brusquely  
and cut the connection.

Romana screeched out a curse and then slapped her hand on the com  
array. "All TARDIS' fall back. Repeat, fall back to the safe zones."  
She flipped back to the internal com. "This is the Lady President.  
Abandon ship. All crew to their TARDIS' immediately. Head for the  
safe zones and may the Gods keep you." she flipped off the com and  
looked up at her assistants. "You were ordered to abandon ship."

They looked at each other. "You can arrest us, afterwards, Lady  
President. We will not leave you," Teneer stated flatly.

Romana smiled at them. "Your loyalty honors me," she said softly.

"It is duty," Gandolf replied. "He means to activate it himself,  
doesn't he?"

Romana nodded. "To save anyone else the burden of guilt. It's part of  
who he is."

"Maybe that should be his name," Teneer said lightly, "Doctor Who has  
a nice ring to it."

"It already is," Romana said as she opened a com line to the Dalek  
command ship. The Doctor needed time, the Daleks had to be distracted  
so they wouldn't notice what he was up to, and negotiating a  
surrender was the best way to do both.

* * * *

When they got home, there was no sign that Herbert had returned, or  
at least, not come back and packed a bag.

Hermione had scampered off to her room with her new books and Janet  
went into the clock. Navigating the halls, she entered the equipment  
room.

It was like a library or small shop. A few aisles of racks and  
shelves, holding supplies and tools, some for whatever repairs might  
be needed in her travels, some for situations she might encounter,  
and some for both. Lining the walls were cabinets and drawers,  
holding small tools and smaller parts. A door led to the materials  
room and main cargo bay.

Selecting a small tool box from the shelf, Janet began making her  
selections, choosing with care and as much foresight as she could. A  
sonic screwdriver was a given, as was a tachyon emitter. She also  
selected a Mandorian ommni tool and an Obernan plasma battery.  
Rounding out the kit was an assortment of cables, a few odds and  
ends, and a protein data storage module with a universal connector.

Then she closed the case with a snap and stared at it. Hermione  
didn't really need a tool kit, she couldn't even leave London in  
this. She'd lost most of the repair supplies in the crash and  
couldn't do much with what she'd had left. The comlink was  
broadcasting an intermittent short range distress beacon, but that  
was an automatic action and even though Janet knew it was futile, her  
people were gone, she'd never been able to bring herself to shut it off.

She shook her head and left the room. The human race would be using  
the microprocessor for at least another thirty years and it would be  
twenty years after that before the materials she needed would even be  
theorized, much less manufactured.

Still, she had thought she could manage it. An entire science devoted  
to the care of teeth was a truly unique idea, and challenging enough  
to hold her interest. Herbert, and then Hermione had provided an  
emotional attachment and Janet had been, if not perfectly happy,  
content enough that the pain of losing her entire people was held at  
bay.

But now . . . she slumped against the wall and stared at the ceiling.  
Had it been her, it would have been simple to fake a disappearance  
and take back the clock, starting a new life elsewhere. It would have  
hurt, but she would have been leaving, not the other way around. It  
was easier to abandon than be abandoned.

But Janet would also have known what and what not to do. Hermione,  
operating on instinct, had come home, and however unintentionally,  
cost her mother the life she had built for herself. More to the  
point, Janet had her duty, both as a parent and a mentor. Hermione  
needed instruction and whatever her pain, Janet would not abandon  
that sacred tenet.

But it didn't make it hurt any less. Herbert would not, could not  
understand what Janet was. Who she had been, and what she may become.  
If the Gods were benevolent, he would let her disappear without fuss.  
Janet would sign over her share of the practice and teach Hermione  
what she needed to know. Albus would help her disappear, Janet  
Granger would be dead.

When she could make full repairs, she would find a nice black hole  
somewhere and end everything.

Covering her eyes with one hand, Janet grieved anew, her tears  
causing the gold wedding band to glisten in the light.

* * * *

Tegan Javonka watched Herbert leave Companion House and sighed. She  
knew all to well his frustration. She'd known it many times for  
herself. But there was no garuntee she was right, about Janet  
Granger. There were other explanations, after all. But common sense  
said otherwise. That she was right.

Leaving the common room to the waitress, Tegan retreated to the third  
floor, where she lived.

Locking the door behind her, she caught sight of herself in the small  
mirror. It showed a woman in her late thirties, brown hair in a no- 
nonsense bob and a round face with a chin more square than rounded  
off.  There were a few lines around her eyes, but those gave her  
character, and she'd never been one for false pretenses. Tegan found  
vanity to be largely useless when all was said and done, and wanted  
no part of it.

Walking on, she stepped into the second bedroom, which she had  
converted into a sort of office and crouched before the safe. Here,  
she dialed the combination and swung the door aside.

Inside held the deeds and certificates to Companion House and her  
other business affairs, all kept in their own fireproof box, some  
valuables, and odds and ends. Ignoring all those, she extracted an  
old cigar box and opened it. Inside were bits and pieces of  
technology and things that did not, could not have been created on  
Earth. Mementos, mostly, or things placed in her pockets and then  
forgotten about until later.

She ignored them, sifting through the box's contents until she found  
a small disc of alien metal and inscribed with a peculiar symbol. It  
was known as Rassilon's Thanks, a minor medal, when you got right  
down to it, and for years, she'd no notion how she'd come to have it.

But then one morning, she'd woken up and discovered that she did  
know, which meant Rassilon was dead, which implied some very bad  
things. Still, if Janet Granger was what Tegan thought, this would be  
proof that she was no mere "stupid ape", and perhaps with her help,  
Tegan could get Sarah Jane to stop pining (and she was pining,  
regardless of what she said otherwise) and start living.

Pocketing the medal, she replaced the box in the safe and as she  
withdrew her hand, her fingers brushed polished wood and as though  
her hands had a mind of their own, they removed the long wooden box  
and opened it.

The wand that lay within was just long enough as to not be called  
stubby. Tegan had never been a very powerful witch, and had it not  
been for the fact that her marks in Herbology, Astronomy, Care of  
Magical Creatures, and that she was a deft hand at Potions had raised  
her scores to passing, she likely would have washed out.

Tegan shook her head. The Magical World back home in Australia was  
grounded in common sense. Werewolves were welcome so long as they  
behaved themselves while human, and there was very little prejudice  
against Muggleborns or those of Muggle blood. Her mother had ascribed  
it to Australia's own origins as a prison colony and the country's  
independent streak.

Not so here in England. No sooner had she arrived, then she'd been  
visited by a thing (Tegan simply could not refer to that creature as  
a woman) named Delores Umbridge who welcomed her to England, advised  
her that she needed to register her wand with the Ministry of Magic,  
and made several comments that made clear that Umbridge considered  
anything not of pure Magical blood beneath her and if Tegan was  
smart, she'd do the same.

Tegan herself was a half and half, so she found Umbridge to be doubly  
offensive and once she was gone, Tegan had kicked the sofa a few  
times, invented a new curse or two and threw her wand into the closet.

If Umbridge was any indicator of the Magical world here in England,  
Tegan wanted no part of it.

So it was that she'd been wandless when her car had gotten a flat,  
she'd entered a blue police call box to call for help, and found the  
adventure of a lifetime.

When at last she'd returned home, she'd met and then married John  
Chesterson an up and coming singer. His parents, Ian and Barbara,  
were a delight, and to her surprise, knew that blue police call box  
well. They had often spent hours exchanging stories of their  
adventures and their mysterious host. Tegan had known more about him  
then they did, though introducing them to Sarah Jane Smith may have  
been a mistake. The poor girl was just a mite obsessive. Fortunately,  
Ian and Barbara had the patience of saints.

Sadly, the marriage had fallen apart within a few years and she'd  
taken her share of the settlement and founded Companion House. She  
was content, if not truly happy, and she supposed that was enough.  
She kept in touch with the Chestersons, and John dropped in with his  
band every so often for drinks.

She turned her thoughts back to the Grangers. She took delivery of  
the Daily Prophet, if only because she enjoyed the Potions articles,  
but she'd recognized Hermione's name in Rita Skeeter's articles two  
years ago during the Triwizard Tournament and made the connection,  
and though today had been the first time that she'd said anything to  
Herbert, she knew that it might have been a mistake.

But, that was water under the bridge. There was work to be done  
downstairs and doubtless Janet Granger would be wanting a word fairly  
soon.

* * * *

Kalill Park
Cardiff, England
Terran Year 1975

Romana came to under a pile of robes. The last thing she remembered  
was the Immasol going off, and then the TARDIS losing control.

Pushing away the robes, she got to her feet and looked for Gandhof  
and Teener. The bridge was empty. But then where . . . .? She looked  
down as her foot brushed the robes.

Oh.

She turned her attention inward, felt the foreign regenerative energy  
inside her, mixing with her own. Her assistants, loyal to the end,  
had sacrificed themselves, throwing themselves on top of her and  
pouring their own regeneration into her in the hopes that she would  
survive.

"I did not deserve your loyalty," she whispered as she knelt and  
began to reverently fold the robes. "Let all of Gallifrey remember  
your names, the greatest of our people."

With measured steps, she carried the folded robes to a storage room,  
where she laid them on the shelf and then stood back and said a brief  
prayer to the Gods.

With that, she returned to the bridge and began assessing her status.  
It wasn't good. Communications was all but gone, the chameleon  
circuit was at half efficiency, and the while main power was fine,  
the dematerialization circuit was almost beyond repair. Also, most of  
the mass of the TARDIS was gone, including the primary materials and  
spares rooms.

She swore bitterly and ran an assessment survey. There were still  
secondary rooms and she designated one of the ones nearest the bridge  
as the new materials and storage room. The clothing chamber was also  
intact, which was a relief.

Fingers dancing over the controls, she began trying to figure out  
where she was. Navigation couldn't help, but what was left of  
communications was picking up radio signals, which dashed any hopes  
she had of acquiring local materials to effect repairs on her own.  
Eventually, she pinned it down to Earth in the local year 1975.  
Specifically, Cardiff, England.

Well that made some sense. Earth was one of the safe zones and there  
appeared to be some sort of dimensional rift running through this  
Cardiff place. Ah, that explained a bit. The TARDIS had come here  
because the rift was emitting energy the TARDIS could use and Romana  
was quick to open the intake ports. Smiling with satisfaction, she  
patted the console and set out to survey the damage.


-----------

It took her a week to make a complete survey and she found a few  
surprises. Such as the Spare Chameleon Circuit in a minor storage  
room, and enough spare parts that the comm system could at least  
cover the whole galaxy, but only the immediate time period. She would  
only be able to reach a Time Lord if they materialized in the same  
time period that her TARDIS was broadcasting. But at least it didn't  
matter where in the Galaxy they were. Had she only been able to reach  
within the solar system or worse, just Earth itself, she'd have gone  
mad.

She could also make full repairs to navigation and very limited, and  
rather shoddy repairs to the dematerialization circuit.

With that done, she bathed and then visited the clothing room to give  
herself a once over. She knew she had regenerated while she'd been  
unconscious, but she'd had other things on her mind.

Now she studied herself in the mirror. Tall and slender, brown hair,  
plain looking, but still attractive in a way. She smiled at the  
thought and noted the brightness of her new smile. So this version  
smiled easily.

With that, Romana sank down into a chair and relaxed, closing her  
eyes, and letting herself drift. Most of her fellow Time Lords and  
Ladies never bothered to sit down and let their minds wander after a  
regeneration. It made the adjustment in thought processes either.  
Regeneration wasn't just a change of body, after all,  it was a  
change of mind. She was amazed at the number of people who didn't  
seem to get that.

This was her fourth life, and while some parts of her stayed the  
same, every life had her own way of doing things, of looking at the  
universe and how she reacted.

As she sat there, she stepped back from her new life and examined the  
person she'd become, taking her measure, and then methodically  
reintegrating it with herself.

It took her time, but she didn't regret it at all. Romana was a  
traditionalist, and she honored the old ways.

Well, most of them.

Her meditation finished, Romana fetched her clothes from her quarters  
and packed them up, then disrobed and packed those as well. She then  
placed the box in a cabinet with the two other boxes already there.

Then she began to pick out new clothes. Robes, mostly, but also some  
Terran clothes. She could be on Earth for a couple of years, and she  
wasn't about to spend it all inside her TARDIS.

She'd joined the Time Lords to be an explorer and to study the rest  
of the universe. She had an opportunity here and refused to waste it.

----------------------

Herbert let himself in quietly. He noticed Jan's purse on the coffee  
table and he'd seen a light in Hermione's room. He opened his mouth  
to call for his family, when Janet emerged from the grandfather clock  
carrying a small case.

She looked up, saw him, and froze, the case falling from her fingers  
to land on the carpet with a soft thud.

"Gallifrey," Herbert said into the silence.

Janet stared at him. "What?" she gasped.

"Gallifrey. Tegan over at Companion House told me to say that, and I  
have no idea what Gallifrey is, but she seems to know, and it's just  
one more thing that I have no idea about."

"Herbert . . ."

"Don't Herbert me, Jan. This morning, everything was fine and then in  
space of a few bloody hours, my entire world has gone bonkers. My  
daughter has apparently switched bodies, the barkeep seems to know  
more about my wife than I do, who, by the way, I've just seen doing a  
physical impossibility!"

"You promised . . ." Janet whispered.

It was as though those two words flipped some kind of switch inside  
Herbert and twenty years of pent up curiosity and frustration came  
boiling out.

"I promised, I promised!" he shouted. "You've held me at bay with  
that stupid bloody promise for over twenty years! You never let me  
in, you never tell me anything, you have all these bloody secrets and  
I'm sick and tired of it! The truth, Janet, I want the truth and I  
want it now or I swear to God, I am taking Hermione and we are leaving!"

He might as well have killed a puppy from the expression on her face  
and all his anger vanished as he watched his wife utter a soft cry  
and slump to her knees, her eyes empty of all emotion except for pain.

In an instant, he was kneeling next to her and holding her against him.

"I'm sorry," he said, lips against her ear. "I'm so sorry, I didn't  
mean that, Janet, please. I'm sorry."

"You'll leave," she said in an empty voice. "You'll leave and then  
I'll be alone again." Raw emotion seeped back into her voice. "You  
won't understand and I don't want to be alone again, I don't want to  
be the last and you're all I have. I can't tell you, I don't want to  
be alone again." She began to cry. "Don't want to be alone."

Herbert gently stroked her hair. "Shhhh, Janet, calm down, it's okay.  
Whatever it is, I won't leave, Hermione won't leave. You're not alone."

"I will be," Janet babbled. "I tell you, you'll hate me and then  
you'll leave and take Hermione and it will just be like before and  
I'll be alone the last one and I can't do that again."

As she spoke, Herbert suddenly realized that whatever secrets Janet  
had, she had placed her heart, even her sanity in his hands, trusting  
that he was the one person who would never, ever, hurt her.

'And you did,' accused his inner voice. 'You hurt her. Look at what  
you've done. LOOK!'

Herbert did look, and then he kissed her. Into that kiss, he poured  
in all of his love for her, everything a man could feel for the one  
woman in the universe who meant everything to him, even more than  
life itself.

After a moment, she kissed him back just as deeply and they fell over  
in a tangle of arms and legs.

After several minutes, Janet broke away and stared him and then  
sighed in that way that meant she'd made a decision. "Get your bag,  
Herbert."

"Jan, I told you I'm not--"

"Your medical bag, Herbert," Janet interrupted his protest. Herbert  
was an oral surgeon. "Get your stethoscope."

"Oh." Herbert scurried off to their room and Janet sighed and stood  
up so she could re-lock the doors on the clock. Then she placed the  
tool case on the coffee table and sat on the couch.

Herbert returned a few moments later, stethoscope in hand. Janet  
unbuttoned her blouse and then nodded. "Listen to my heart."

Herbert was puzzled, but he did as she said and nodded as he listened  
to her heart pulse with a steady rhythm. "It sounds fine to me," he  
said.

She grabbed his wrist and moved it to the right side of her chest.  
Herbert started to ask what she was doing, but the question died on  
his lips as he heard a second heartbeat.

He checked the left side of her chest again. There was a heartbeat.  
The right side, another heartbeat. He slid the scope over her chest.  
The sound of one faded out and the other faded in.

"You have two hearts?" He asked, astonished.

"As well as the ability to hold my breath for up to three hours,  
survive outer space without a suit for up to ten minutes, and some  
telepathic ability," she said matter of factly. "There is also no  
separation of my brain hemispheres and I see farther into the light  
spectrum than you do. I'm not human, Herbert."

Then she told him a story. It was about a woman named Romana, a  
wondrous planet called Gallifrey, and the war that destroyed them both.

             .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----.
             | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com |
             | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com |
             |     Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject     |
             `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'