Author's Note: Nope, not dead. Yep, it's an update. A couple years since the last one? I blame my TARDIS for returning me to the wrong point in time. Not buying it? Okay, let's just say that I had a sudden drop in inspiration and turned to other projects for a while, huh...

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Doctor Who, any concepts or characters thereof... if I did, this would be canon, not fanfic, wouldn't it? And it's not, so I don't own them, aren't making any money off of them. Certainly not getting fan's hopes up with an interview then crashing them with that 'sequel'...

-o0O0o-

"Scarred Drums"
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

The Master smiled to himself, not - of course - because of any broomstick or in-roads to potentially-useful little apes, but because it was only minutes left until midnight and he had such plans for the coming day; such delightful, corrupting plans...

Oh, he so enjoyed the thought of those plans...

After all, as he had told the owl, every Master needs a Mistress, and with the proper influence she had come such a long way in such a short time, now he merely needed to... open her mind to what the future could hold for them. While one could argue that his manipulations were no better than Dumbledore's, he would freely counter that whereas Dumbledore's manipulations involved denying information and forcing people to believe he was more powerful and 'all-knowing' than he really was to induce them to do what he wanted them to do, those of The Master were designed to give people information they would otherwise be lacking and make them think for themselves, making their own decisions about their lives and futures... the fact that they would owe that freedom to him and would be more willing to listen to him in the future were merely a bonus to him. After all, this wasn't for the 'Greater Good' or for some form of 'ascension to a higher plane of existance', all this was merely, simply, just for revenge and his own personal satisfaction and pleasure. Although, he did hope that in at least one instance that the pleasure would be mutual in the end. That was one of the goals of his plans for today, after all. It was today, for the clocks had chimed the mid-night hour, and that meant it was time for him to set today's plans in motion.

It would be such an enjoyable day, yes.

-o0o-

An impenetrable security system did not exist, no matter how advanced the technology or arcane the magics used to create it, all security systems had a flaw. For a security system designed to prevent boys from going up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, the flaw was rather obvious; it could only be set off by a boy using the stairs, it did not keep them out of the girls' dorm itself.

Foolish wizards, they had no grasp of the potential of some of the simplest spells at their fingertips, they were so focused on learning 'more powerful' ones, never realising that they already had the power if they would only stop listening to those telling them how to use spells in the same old ways that they had always been used long enough to discover new ways to use them. Even their so-called 'Unforgivable Curses' could have their effects duplicated by simpler, less restricted spells if one knew how to use them properly; Compulsion Charms for the Imperio, the Cutting Curse and Blasting Hex could kill as easily as the Killing Curse itself, even repeated application of a simple Stinging Hex could eventually drive one to madness as easily as the Cruciatus, literally the 'Punishment' Curse.

But they were taught how to use spells in specific ways and never had the freedom of the mind necessary to break out of that box and use them however they wanted to instead. Like using the 'Levitation Charm', Wingardium Leviosa, to simply float above the stairs and up the stairway, never setting off the wards; wards put up by masters of the art, defeated by simply using a spell taught in a Hogwarts student's first year more inventively than just floating feathers around a classroom to bypass the triggers in the steps of the staircase. It was the same kind of narrow-mindedness and repetition that had driven both The Master himself and his old friend from the ranks of the Time Lords and onto their seperate, yet always meeting, paths. Sometimes, he wondered what had happened to his old friend after the final confrontation with Rassilon when The Master had sacrificed himself to spite the old Time Lord. After all, the universe would be a much less interesting place with him around to be a challenge. It was something to think about once he was finished bringing Magical Britain to its knees at his feet; he'd even forgo making them kiss his toes, that had always been somewhat disconcerting to him, that concept. At the top of the stairway, a silent Finite spell ended the Wingardium Leviosa and allowed The Master to land on his feet with a supreme smirk, having one again proven that there was no obstacle a lesser being could place in his path that his superior mind could not overcome. He actually had to stop himself from triumphantly humming as he carefully began to make his way down the corridor, looking at each plate that indicated the year-group whose door it was on until he found the door for the current First Years.

"Considering the age of the castle and the rampant number of cliches which abound herein," The Master muttered to himself softly, "I suppose it would not be beyond the realm of even lesser imaginations that this door would creak if I were to simply open it... therefore, Muffilato."

A flick of his wrist and the spell shot from his wand, creating a field around the door from which sound within would be unable to heard outside, allowing him to casually open the door and walk into the girls' dorm room as easily as he would walk into his own. It only took him a matter of seconds to reach the bed occupied by his bushy-haired objective, laying asleep on her side as though she hadn't a care in existance. The Master smiled indulgently, thinking that she had no idea just how much of an effect she had on existance by way of having an effect on him; she would certainly have a care if she only knew. Carefully, so as not to awaken her, Harry sat down on the edge of her bed and put his hand on her shoulder, focusing his open eyes on her closed ones, focusing his mind on the mind behind her closed eyes...

-o0o-

Hermione awoke at the sensation of a hand on her shoulder, jerking away from it as she sat up and whipped her head around to look at the source of the contact in a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"Harry? How did you get into the girls' dorm?"

Harry snickered in amusement, drawing a look from the brunette that was decidedly unamused before he answered, "Look around, my dear girl, does this look like your dorm room?"

Hermione started to look around and stopped, somehow her bed had ended up in the middle of a grand ballroom floor, "What? But..."

"Magic, my dear girl, simply magic... and imagination."

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at him, "I'm getting really tired of 'magic' as an answer when I want an explanation, it seems like everyone in Hogwarts is just fine with knowing something's 'magic' and never actually knowing what kind of magic or how it works - well, I'm not! I want details!"

Harry smiled, it reminded him so much of a much younger Master and Doctor who didn't accept the Academy's 'it is because it is' teachings when Hermione began her demands for knowledge. Of course, just because she demanded the knowledge did not mean he was simply going to give it unto her, that would be simply too easy.

"I have a better idea," he informed her, seconds before a gesture with his Laser Screwdriver caused her to be covered with a glowing light for a moment. No Laser Screwdriver or magic was involved in the fact that Hermione was stunned speechless as she looked at her now-eighteen year old body, the surprise providing enough of a distraction for the Laser Screwdriver to disappear and be replaced with Harry's wand which he used to change her now-straining nightclothes into a flowing gown of cobalt blue with a waterfall cape of the same color, thin straps across her otherwise bare shoulders held the gown up while both gown and cape were trimmed with strings of pearls that held the edges of the cape pinned to the middle and trimmed the top of the gown with strings reaching out around her arms to accentuate the tone of her skin; a ribbon of cobalt blue trimmed with pearls to match finished the ensemble and bound her hair back away from her face in a small bun before allowing it to flow down her back over the cape.

"And now for El Maestro," Harry swapped wand for Laser Screwdriver again, this time using it to advance himself to the same age as Hermione now was, before another swap and wave of a wand dressed him in a three-piece suit with cravat like The Master had favored in some previous incarnations.

"Strange dream, this is all a strange dream, it has to be," Hermione muttered to herself.

"Well, then, if it's all a dream, there's only one thing to do," Harry stood up and held out his hand, "Shall we, dear girl?"

"Shall we... what?" Hermione asked in confusion, looking at the outreached hand.

"Dance, of course," Harry looked at her as though surprised she hadn't realised it.

"Oh," Hermione wasn't sure if she was sounding noncommittal or simply disappointed as she glanced down at the bed on which she was sitting, "I thought..."

"Not tonight, my dear girl... you're not ready yet, it seems."

"Then why do you keep changing my underwear? Especially to such..." Hermione blushed instead of finishing the sentence.

"Because, my dear girl, I look at you and see not a plain cotton-'plain Jane', but rather a beauty-in-waiting who deserves the finest silks and laces; after all, isn't it said that the better you dress, the better you feel about yourself, besides?" He intended this to start her thinking. After all, this time, The Master did not intend for Hermione to have the self-image and self-confidence problems that Dumbledore and the Weasleys had taken advantage of to manipulate and control her as they had done in Harry's previous life.

"We're not old enough for those kind of thoughts!" Hermione retorted sharply, trying to ignore the fact that, as far as she was aware, this was all a strange dream and arguing with a figment of her imagination, even if it was in the form of one of her best friends, would be a poor sign on her sanity.

"Aren't we?"

"That was... this is a dream, we're not really that old."

"If this is a dream, then what does it say for you having it?"

"That I need to read some books on interpreting dreams," Hermione answered, "I knew I should have gotten those Third Year books to begin researching the different elective choices, but my father wouldn't let me... Oh, I wish I had that Divination textbook now."

Harry couldn't suppress a chuckle, knowing how she would come to feel about Divination in coming years, as he used his outstretched hand to take hold of Hermione's wrist and gently pull her to her feet. As he shifted his hand into her own and laid his other hand on her hip, the bed behind her vanished and music began to play.

It took her a moment, but Hermione recognised the music as she instinctively raised her free hand to rest it on Harry's shoulder, "Wagner?"

"I like Wagner," The Master informed her as they began to move, Hermione following his lead in the steps.

"I was expecting Strauss or Tachovsky; the usual waltzes."

"With me, my dear girl, it's better to expect the unusual."

"I'm learning that."

"Be careful, my dear girl, knowledge is dangerous. Once you have it, you often wish you did not," The Master cautioned, "Whoever said 'ignorance is bliss' was very wise indeed."

"That's stupid!" Hermione snapped, displaying some early traces of the same attitude that had led to such things as 'S.P.E.W.' in the previous timeline, an attitude that unfortunately made her easy to manipulate and not just by The Master himself, "Ignorance is one of the worst things wrong with the world."

"Spoken like a true Ravenclaw, however were you sorted into Gryffindor, my dear girl?" The Master asked, though they both knew the answer; her desire for learning wasn't as great as her desire to right wrongs of which she learned. Throughout all of this exchange, The Master never missed a step or the rhythm of the music. "I never said knowledge was wrong to have, merely that possessing it could be dangerous. After all; knowledge is power and power corrupts, therefore knowledge can be corruptive, some would argue."

"I think that knowledge doesn't matter, it's all about the person that has it," Hermione countered, wondering in the back of her mind how they could be discussing this matter and dancing so gracefully at the same time and not liking that the only answer which she could reach was 'magic'.

"That attitude is part of what makes you special, my dear Hermione, never change," The Master told her as he added an elaborate twirl to their motions, causing his partner's dress, cape and hair to flair out for a moment before he caught and dipped her.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze as Hermione starred up into Harry's green-and-gold eyes, wondering if he was going to actually kiss her like this, if this was going to be - even in a dream, which she was even more certain this had to be - her first kiss.

"I could kiss you right now," Harry observed.

'Oh, yes,' a part of Hermione's mind that was embracing puberty and all it was bringing with everything it had commentated, 'You certainly could...'

It was probably the first time that Hermione could remember in which she hated her own mind, she just wasn't sure if she hated it for thinking that in the first place, or because she didn't want to think about how Harry was making her feel.

Harry sighed and slowly raised Hermione back into a standing position, leaving her looking at him in distracted confusion, "Unfortunately, it seems you think that we're too young for such things, don't you?"

He subtlely ignored the sound of displeasure she made as she realised what was happening and her burgeoning hormones engaged in another round of frustrated debate with her senses of morality and propriety, senses that The Master knew meant he had his own work ahead of him in adjusting so that she could take her proper place by his side. Morality and propriety were excellent things to have until one realised that not everyone considered the same things to be 'moral' and-or 'proper' leaving a limited series of choices; conform to others' ideas of moral and proper, agree to disagree - so rare as to be laughable, reach a compromise - and he was well familiar with the definition of the word as 'everyone loses', or convince others to come around to one's own ideas on the subjects, whether by oration or force - which commonly involved the latter over the former. As much as he intended to alter them somewhat, the strength of Hermione's beliefs was one of the things which made him care for her, so he didn't want to simply shatter and rebuild them, merely slowly bend them to the point where she would understand the reasoning of his actions and intentions. It would take time, but for a Time Lord, time was merely a suggestion and suggestions were made to be noted and ignored, but he would take his time and work slowly; he didn't intend for anything serious to happen between them until at least Third Year, once he had ensured that certain factors would no longer be involved. For now, however, there was dancing to be done.

-o0o-

Hermione didn't know how long they danced after he had dipped her, for the first time in her life her mind was racing too fast to form a coherent thought in her head as the dream form of her friend - was he her best friend? She wasn't sure, but she thought he was - led her around the dance floor. Every so often, it seemed as if he intended to kiss her before he stopped himself, making her wonder if - if this was all the dream she was sure it was and thus a creation of her own mind, that meant for her claim that they weren't old enough for such thoughts. It was all rather frustrating, really.

An innate part of being a Time Lord was an acute sense of time and its movements, so The Master, if anyone had cared to ask, knew exactly how long they had been dancing to 'Ritt der Walkuren', long enough that the hour was getting late and Cinderella's coach would have long since turned into a pumpkin. While he had no intentions to muse on the concept of transfigured gourds as conveyances that only lasted a limited time and so were limited in efficiency, The Master was forced to concede that if he did not allow his own proverbial princess some time to truely sleep she would be disadvantaged on the morrow that would bring one of the more interesting incidents of First Year, so it was time to bring the night's events to a close.

Harry twirled Hermione away, releasing her hand as he did, and as she was spinning, The Master drew out both Laser Screwdriver and wand, one in each hand, and returned her to her former age and apparel. The sudden changes in size and balance caused Hermione to stumble and she was surprised to land on the bed that had just as suddenly reappeared.

Before she could react, he had raised his wand again, "Somnus."

She couldn't fight it as the spell-induced sleep took her and The Master crossed the floor to once more sit on the edge of the bed, "Sleep, my dear girl, just remember when you wake up..."

With that, he exited Hermione's dream world and her mind itself without fanfare, merely vanishing.

-o0O0o-

Author's Note: The eagle-eyes and fashion-minded among you, readers, might recognize Hermione's gown as being Padme's from "Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith"... I suppose I should add here that the dress's design is probably the property of LucasFilm and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit. Is the movie where The Master actually got the dress idea from? Don't know, bloody Time Lord refuses to say. I tried to get answers by threatening him with a Sonic Screwdriver, but he countered with a Laser Screwdriver and I had to back down...

On another note, readers, I need some help finding a couple of stories that I can remember reading, but I can't remember the title or the author's name... One is a short involving the broomstick incident in Third Year, Harry refuses to hand it over because neither McGonagall or Flitwick are experts in brooms and can guarantee that they won't damage it and in an alternate ending Harry figures out that they destroyed his broom and gave him a substitute, it might be part of a drabble collection. The other one, it's a time travel story, I think - Harry is sorted into Hufflepuff, in conflict with Ron and Dumbledore, at one point Dumbles tries to force Harry to transfer to Gryffindor and Harry snaps his wand - actually a fake - in retaliation... anyone recognize either of them?