Title: The Adventures of Draco Malfoy, Companion to the Mad Wizard (probably) Known as the Doctor
Summary: The Doctor comes to regret is new choice of companion.
Rated: G




The Adventures of Draco Malfoy, Companion to the Mad Wizard (probably) Known as the Doctor
by lizbee



"How'd you do that?" Draco asked, examining the blue box that had materialised in Snape's living room.  "It's not a Ministry-approved spell, is it?"

"Nope."  The stranger was wearing a Muggle suit, but he was plainly a wizard.  Draco flattered himself that he had an instinct for that sort of thing.  "Is Snape around?"

"Popped out to get some milk and fresh Doxy ichor."

"Oh, pity.  Still, this mightn't be the best time.  You lot are having a war, aren't you?  Makes things awkward.  What side's he on again?"

"The right one," said Draco coolly.  He was talking to a madman, which was bad, but at least he was talking to someone.  Snape had taken to communicating in snippy little handwaves, and Wormtail just sniffled at him.  And it took a pretty cool madman to talk so casually about the war.

"Isn't it a bit small in there?" Draco nodded at the box, subtly moving towards the door.  He desperately wanted a look inside; not even Aunt Bellatrix could work that kind of charm on such a large object.  Dumbledore might have managed it, but this man was much more impressive than Dumbledore.  Who had died quite easily in the end, and Snape had given the credit to Draco and said the others were all jealous liars, so that was okay.

"It's huge," said the man, a smile lighting his features.  "Want a look?"

"Yes," Draco hissed.  "Yes please."

"I could even take you on a quick trip.  If you've nothing better to do."

"That," said Draco, "would be--" he belatedly remembered that he was a Malfoy, and therefore above plebeian things like enthusiasm -- "quite nice."

"Right."  Before Draco could say another word, he was being pushed inside, the doors were closing behind him, and they were off.

"By the way," the man said, "I'm the Doctor."

*

The Doctor was beginning to have his doubts about Draco.

Oh, it was little things at first, like the way he'd asked what house the Doctor had been in (all of them, at various stages, and only because Dumbledore used to get him drunk and under the Sorting Hat), and who were his parents (um...) and was the whole family, you know, like us?  (Well...)

Of course, the boy couldn't help having grown up in a xenophobic closed technocracy with an unhealthy interest in its own genetics.  And it wasn't as though a person couldn't overcome that sort of thing.  It was character-building.  Why, once the Doctor himself had memorised his own genetic -- oh, never mind.  Destroy the mystique.  The Doctor wasn't going to judge Draco on his background.

And going through the TARDIS wardrobe and digging up the Master's old time-to-sacrifice-the-Doctor-outfit?  Just boyish high spirits.  Really. 

Siding with the Daleks on the racial purity issue?

Well.

"Draco, now that we're not about to die a horrible death, I think we need to have a little talk."

Draco looked up at him.  "Is this about the facts of life?  Because Snape told me about those when I was twelve."

"Um.  Maybe I'm not the person to do this..."

*

"I don't know why you thought I should be the one to do it," said Sarah Jane, putting ice on her hand.

"You didn't have to hit him."

"He called me a -- well, I'm not sure what it was, exactly, but I can recognise an unforgivably insulting term when I'm called one."

"That's kind of what I wanted you to talk to him about," said the Doctor, eating Sarah's jam with his finger.

"Nice try.  Take him away before he gives Luke any ideas."

*

"Military discipline," said the Brigadier (ret.), "that's what the boy needs."

"I don't suppose you could--"

The Brigadier held up a hand.  "I'm not letting the boy within a hundred feet of any soldiers," he said. 

Draco slouched up.  "When can I meet your real friends?" he asked, ignoring the Brigadier.  "The proper people, I mean."

The Doctor looked up.  "Well," he said slowly, "since you asked..."

*

"Okay, Draco," said the Doctor.  "Just stand right here."

"Right here?"

"And don't move."  The Doctor looked serious.  "The fate of the world depends on you."  He started to back away.  "I'll return shortly," he called.  Draco was almost tempted to describe his current manner as 'shifty', although growing up around Death Eaters, House Elves and Narcissa after a bender had somewhat skewed his definition.  "And give my love to Adric!"

Draco heard the sound of the TARDIS dematerialising, and hoped the Doctor would be back soon.  He was beginning to sweat, and that would ruin his robes.  And those dinosaurs were looking at him rather oddly.  Herbivores, the Doctor had said.  Right.  He hoped this Adric fellow was a decent sort, and not a jumped up Muggle like the rest.  He was beginning to think the Doctor wasn't much of a wziard at all.

There was a sound above him.  Draco looked up.  A bright and flaming object was hurtling to the ground, and if he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was going to land right on top of him.

Oh.  Wait.

"Damn," Draco said.


end