Imagination Library

Imagination Library is a group project run by tumblr users. The group aims to publish a story to this blog every fortnight throughout 2012

Mischa Grandsell

Author’s note: It’s based on the Harry Potter series. It’s post-war around this time, hence the Paramore, Maroon 5 and Train reference. Enjoy! -Ashley


‘Sofie’s here, Mischa. Weren’t you going to the zoo?’ My mum says while opening the curtains of the large window of my bedroom. ‘Come on, get up!’
‘Yes, young lady, get up!’ Another voice says. I look in the direction where the voice just came from and Sofie was standing there.  Her eyes sparkling with joy.
‘Why don’t you drink some coffee or something and I’ll get dressed, okay?’ I say in response to all of the wake up calls. My mum and Sofie both nod and leave the room to drink something, and knowing my mum, she’ll probably make some food for me, so Sofie and I can leave as soon as possible. 
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Sofie. I think she’s 13 now. When she was 11 she went to a private school somewhere in Scotland. When I ask if I could write, call or email her, she comes up with weird excuses like; ‘My school is somewhere in the mountains in Scotland, and the people from the post office are too lazy to deliver our mail.’ or ‘We’re not aloud to have computers or laptops. Besides, there isn’t much electricity in my dorm room. So I can’t use a phone.’
As I’m being carried away with my thoughts, a black haired man with a green robe stops at our house and looks directly at my window. When our eyes cross I quickly dive away.  After a minute or two I slowly get back up to get a better look at the man but he wasn’t there anymore. Just at that moment the front door bell rings.
‘Hello?’ I hear my mother say. ‘Oh, I’ll get her, why don’t you come in? Mischa! There’s someone here for you.’
I put on my clothes, go through my messy brown hair with my comb and go downstairs. When I come in the living room the man with the green robe is sitting there. He immediatly looks up at me and smiles at me and starts talking:  ‘Hello Mischa. I’m Professor Neville Longbottom.’ 
‘H-how do you know my name?’ I answer carefully. 
‘Well, we know the name of every wizard and witch in the United Kingdom.’ 
‘The name of every what?’ I ask, did he really say wizard and witch? 
‘Yes, I really did say wizard and witch. You’re a witch, Mischa.’
My mum steps in front of the man and says: ‘I’m sorry, what did you call my daughter?’ She shoots him a vicious glare.
‘Did I say something wrong? Was I going to fast again? Oh, why is it always me?’ He looks down in a hurry and pauses for a moment. My mum and I look at each other, totally flabbergasted. Then he looks up and continues his story. 
‘We thaught that you knew about magic since your husband was a wizard, Mrs. Grandsell. But I guess Rory didn’t want to tell you until he was certain that Mischa was magical. Sadly, before he could tell you, he-’
When Sofie walks in the room, he stops talking and his face changes. I can clearly see that he’s confused.‘-died.’ I look over to Sofie and she’s clearly confused too. 

After that weird moment everyone went silent. I think my mum lost her patience and decided to start talking. ‘Sofie, do you know this man?’
‘W-well.’ She says nervously.
‘He’s a teacher at my school in Scotland, and if I may ask; what are you doing here, professor?’
‘Professor McGonagall said that I had to inform this family that little Misha here is magical, like I said earlier a wizard, just like her dad.’ The professor answers.
‘Magical?’ My mum and I both say.
‘Let me show you.’ He pulls out a stick, wich appears to be a wand and points it to our fireplace. ‘Incendio’ He gently says while flicking his wand. A small beam of fire comes out of the tip of the wand and the wood in the fireplace lights up.
My mum and I look at each other. Both flabbergasted. ‘Sofie’ Professor Longbottom suddenly says ‘Can you show me what you learned last year?’
‘Of course I can.’ She takes her wand out. And points it at the first book she sees. 
‘Wingardium Leviosa.’ The books levitates in the air.
‘You’ve got to be kidding me,is this some kind of trick?’ I say.
‘No, it’s real. Check it.’ While the professor says that I go up to the book and put my hand under and on top of is to see if there’s any strings attached.
‘How’s that possible?’
‘Magic.’ Sofie says while smiling at me.
‘So, you’re a witch?’
‘A darn good one.’ Professor Longbottom says before Sofie can answer. ‘Normally students aren’t aloud to do magic outside of school, but because I’m here, she can.’
‘I never told you because I wasn’t aloud to. I thought you weren’t magical. You should go to Hogwarts with me. It’s a really good school.’
‘And what it’s name again?’ My mum asks carefully.
With a smile on his face he says; ‘Oh! I knew I forgot something.’ He gives a letter to my mum.  When he sees that my mum is reading the name he says with a proud tone in his voice: ‘Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.’
Mischa, you should go! It’s a really good school to learn more about magic and how to use it.
‘Sofie’s right ma’am. I went there when I was younger and they really help your child to develop their magic abilities.’
I see my mum watching professor Longbottom’s every step. But I don’t see any disbelief. I think the professor saw that she was struggling with some things. 
‘Our students have to stay at school during the school year but, if they or their parents want to, they can go home every vacation.’
‘I-I don’t know what to say. What do you think, Mischa. Do you want to go? Do you balieve all this?’ She says while turning her head towards me.
‘Yes. We saw it with our own eyes. I want to go.’ I say with a lot of enthusiasm in my voice. ‘I really do. But what if I’m really bad at using magic?’
‘Then I will personally help you.’ 
‘Will you, professor?’
He nods. 
‘And if that doesn’t work, I’ll help you.’ Says Sofie with a big smile on her face. 
And without hesitation I nod and look over to my mum, who’s smiling too. 
‘Okay, I’ll tell you what you need to buy for your studies.’ Says the professor. He gives a list to my mum who’s looking weirdly at the paper. Professor Longbottom laughs a little bit and continues with his explanation.
‘You can buy all this stuff in Diagon Alley, the best shopping street for wizards and witches in England.’
‘Diagon Alley?’ My mum and I say.
‘Oh yeah, I forgot, your mum’s a muggle.’ 
‘Muggle?’ My mum takes a step foward, her face clearly showing that she’s offended.
‘No, I didn’t mean it like that, muggles are non-magical people. I’m sorry if I offended you, Ma’am.’ He quickly says. ‘You know what, I’ll come back tomorrow and I’ll bring you to Diagon Alley, help you buy your things and I could introduce you to some friends of mine who run a shop there, George and Ron Weasley.’
Sofie starts jumping up and down whe she hears the name.
‘The Weasleys? They’re legends! Is there any chance that Harry or Hermione will be there? Merlin’s beard! Why didn’t you say that you know them, professor?’ 
‘Well, Sofie, I was in the same year with them and same house.  And, I’d like to keep my personal life private, you see?’ 
Sofie nods, still excited. Who were those Weasleys? And who were Harry and Hermione? Maybe I’ll just give up on asking.
‘I think it’d good that you come by tomorrow to show Diagon Alley. And if those Weasleys are such legends, I’d like to meet them.’ My mother says, picking up the conversation where Sofie interrupted it. She nods at me. ‘Can you come at 11 am?’
Professor Longbottom nods and stands up. 
‘I’m positive that Sofie will tell you about Hogwarts and its rules and everything so I’ll go and I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you or the tea, ma’am. And it was nice to meet you.’ He says while smiling at me. He shakes everybody’s hands and disappears.

The following hours Sofie was at my house she told everything I needed to know about Hogwarts and its staff. She’s talking about the Hogwarts Houses.
‘You have four different houses in Hogwarts, you get sorted in the house that fits the best with how you are as a person. For example: Gryffindor values bravery, chivalry and courage, Ravenclaw values intelligence, creativity and wit, Hufflepuff values loyalty, fair play and hard work and Slytherin values ambition, cunning and vanity. I’m in Ravenclaw.’ She says.
I have no Idea in wich house I’ll be sorted in. I never really had friends in elementary school. I was the outcast who was sitting on a bench reading a book or just staring at other groups of ‘best friends’. I focussed on my studies and art there. I don’t think I’m intelligent enough to keep up with the Ravenclaws as I hear Sofie talking about them. I’m kind of freaking out right now. But I’m trying not to think about it.
‘Then you have me and my friends. They’re really fun. You have Kara, my best friend, is really nice and really ambitious. She’s a Slytherin. Then you have Penelope, she’s really funny and loves to make jokes. Then you have Mathias and Gwain. They’re best friends. Mathias is, just like me, in Ravenclaw and Gwain in Gryffindor. They both play Quiddtich.’
‘Quiddtich?’ I ask.
‘Quiddtich is a sport in the magical world. You’ll see. The Hogwarts houses each have their own teams. They occasionally play and at the end of the year they can win the house cup, if they were the best. It’s pretty fun. But first years aren’t aloud to play but there were exceptions.’
‘Oh.’ I got it. I still didn’t know how it looked, but I’ll take her word for it that it’s fun. ‘When do those exceptions take place?’
‘When the person is really good.’
Really good? Wow. That’s not going to happen with me.’ We both laugh.
We kept talking about Hogwarts until Sofie had to go home.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘Yes. Bye.’ 
She gives me a big hug. ‘I’m happy that you’re coming to Hogwarts.’ She says.
I smile and she goes home.

‘Goodnight Mischa.’ My mum says when I’m going to bed. She goes to her room but comes back quickly.
‘Are you sure you want to go?’ She asks. ‘I mean, it’s so far from home, all the way up in Scotland.’
‘Yes. I’m sure.’
My mum nods and smiles.
‘Oh mum?’
‘I’ll miss you too.’
She comes up to me gives me a hug and goes away. I am going to miss her, I’m really going to miss her. But maybe I found a place what can make me feel that I’m home.

‘I’ve got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine, I got a love I know that is all mine. Oh O oh. Do what you want but you’re never gonna break me. Sticks and stones they’re never gonna shake me. Oh O oh. Take me awa-’ I quickly stop my radio.
‘How old is that song? Like ten years? And they’re still playing it.’ I mumble while getting out of my bed.
Sofie loves that song. It’s a catchy song, but I’d rather listen to Paramore, Train or Maroon 5.
At that moment my mum shouts from the kitchen: ‘Mischa it’s 10 o’clock, Sofie can be here any moment. Get dressed!’
I get dressed and go downstairs.
‘Are you going to wear that?’ My mum says when she sees what I’m wearing.
‘What’s wrong with my jeans?
‘There’s paint on it. Go put on a skirt or something.’
‘Ugh. Okay.’
I go back to my room and put on my skirt with flowers on. When I go back downstairs I see that Sofie’s already here.
‘Now happy, mum?’
‘Wow, I didn’t know you had a skirt, Mischa.’ Sofie jokes. ‘I like it.’
‘Hello Mischa. How are you?’ Sofie’s dad says.
‘I’m fine… Are you-’
‘No, my wife is a witch.’ He smiles and looks over to his wife, Lavender Brown, who’s drinking tea and talking about Hogwarts with my mum.
‘She’s been trough a lot there. She fought in the second wizarding war.’ He says. ‘Almost died. Got bitten by a werewolf, that’s how she got the scar.’
He points at her neck.
‘But the evil wizard from back then- What was his name again?’ He turns to his wife and says: ‘Sweetie, what was his name again? That evil wizard, Voldeer?’
‘Voldemort, John. You’re not scaring her, eh?’
‘No, I’m just telling her about your time at Hogwarts.’ She smiles and turns back at my mum.
‘So that Voldemort’s dead. No need to be worried’ He winks and goes to my mum and Lavender.
‘That’s right. I wanted to tell you about the wizarding wars.’ Sofie says. ‘There was a wizard who hated wizards and witches who were Muggleborn, wizards or witches whose parents are both muggles, he wanted them all locked up. But there was a group of wizards and witches that were against him and fought him. They were called “The Order of the Phoenix”. One day a prophecy was made about the outcome of the war. A boy would be born that had the power of defeating Voldemort. He would be born end of July, begin August. There were two boys born then. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom.’
‘Professor Longbottom?’
‘Don’t shush me!’
She shoots me a glare and continues: ‘Yes professor Longbottom. But Voldemort thought that Harry was the one the prophecy was talking about. Harry and his parents had to go under protection. But their secret keeper ratted them out. Voldemort went to the Potters and killed Harry’s parents. But when he wanted to kill Harry, his spell hit himself and he died. But fourteen years later he rose again. Then three years later, the big fight in Hogwarts happened. My mum fought in the war, like my dad said, as a brave Gryffindor. It was a big fight. Everybody was fighting and-’
‘We lost a lot of people.’ Sofie and I look up and we see professor Longbottom standing there. ‘Are you telling the story again?’
He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Voldemort gave Harry a chance to surrender, sacrifice himself, for us. He took it. Voldemort thought he killed him. But he didn’t. Harry woke up and the fight began. Again. A few minutes later, I killed Voldemort’snake wich apparently had a part of Voldemort’s soul in it. So when that part of his soul was dead, Harry killed Voldemort.’ The professor continues repeatedly looking at Lavender and another woman standing in the living room.
‘If there would be another war, would you do it all over again? Protecting your friends, fighting for life or dead.’ I ask.
A short and determined answer follows; ‘Yes.’
‘And why do you want me to meet the Weasleys?’
‘The Weasleys lost a member of their family. I want you to meet George because your father was a good friend of his. A family friend. And you look just like him, like your dad.’
The woman standing next to the professor puts her arm around him.
The woman, with blonde-brown hair suddenly says: ‘I’m Hannah Abbott. Neville’s fiancée.’
We shake hands while I keep staring at him.
‘I almost died, would you cry like this if I did?’ Lavender says when she walks in the living room with John.
‘Of course, my darling.’ He winks playfully and they laugh.
‘Where you in the same year at Hogwarts?’
‘Yes, we were. Same year, same house.’ Lavender answers me.
‘But we weren’t as good as friends before the war.’
They both smile at me.

‘Shall we go then?’ Sofie asks impatiently.
‘Okay. Mischa and Mrs. Grand-’
‘Please, if I can call you Neville, you can call me Lauren.’
‘Mischa and M-Lauren. Grab my arm please. Hannah, are you going to go by yourself or-.’
‘I’ll go with you.’
My mum, Hannah and I grab his arm and we apparate from our Southgate house to a small café.
The Leaky Cauldron.


Author’s note: This is a Doctor Who/Sarah Connor Chronicles crossover. No spoilers for either show.  Written by digitalfare.


"So where are we going this time, Doctor?" Amy said as she turned a dial on the TARDIS console.

"Oh, I’d like to visit someone, if you don’t mind." The Doctor pulled a lever and pressed two buttons that were blinking. He stared at them and then narrowed his eyes when they stayed lit.

"Is it a friend of yours?" Rory asked.

"Might be, dunno." The Doctor spun on his heel and checked the monitor. He adjusted the knobs. "I haven’t met him yet."

"…Okay," Amy said. "So who is he?"

"John Connor. Lovely young man, but under a lot of pressure." The Doctor typed on the keyboard and the TARDIS made its whooshing sound.

Rory grabbed a handle on the console and Amy leaned with the TARDIS as it tilted and sped through time.

Lights flashed in the control room as the ship stopped spinning and landed. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and tapped the monitor. “Outside Los Angeles, America, Earth. The year 2027.” He patted the console with his hand. “Exactly where we wanted to go. Thanks, dear.”

"You said we’re on Earth?" Amy walked down the steps toward the TARDIS doors.

The Doctor rushed ahead of her and blocked the door. “No, no, no. Wait. It isn’t safe.”

Rory shrugged. “What do you mean? You said 2027. That isn’t too far ahead of our time.”

"Not too far ahead, but far enough. And this is America. There’s a war going on that ends before it reaches Europe, but it’s still dangerous. We’re not going to rush out."

Amy leaned close to the Doctor. “Doctor? What’s out there?”

The Doctor motioned with his hands for Rory and Amy to step back from the doors. “Where I’ve taken you in the future, it’s past the problems here. Rough time right now.” He rubbed his thumb against the other fingers on his hand, thinking. “We’re going to need a code.”

"A code?" Rory asked.

"Yes. Might get tricky out there. We need a way to know we’re really ourselves. Something only we’ll know about."

"Fish fingers and custard?" Amy offered.

"Fish fingers and custard," the Doctor repeated. He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Good, that’s good. If one of us seems…not ourselves—mention fish fingers and custard. Any confusion and we’ll know something went wrong."

Rory shook his head. “What will go wrong? Doctor, I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

"Yeah, Doctor. Explain," Amy added.

The Doctor took a deep breath. “It’s easier if I show you. But remember, fish fingers and custard. And promise me you’ll be careful. Very careful here.” He nodded to them and opened the TARDIS doors.

The Doctor, Rory, and Amy took a few steps out of the TARDIS. The Doctor looked up at the dark, smoggy sky. He could smell fires burning and saw patches of flames on the landscape. The ground was shades of black and gray. Ash, dirt, and debris surrounded them. Twisted, blackened metal piled up in mounds around them. Far off in the distance, the Doctor heard dogs barking.

"Stay close, you two," he whispered. The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and flicked his wrist. The screwdriver beeped and the Doctor looked around at Amy and Rory. "Very close." He adjusted a setting on the screwdriver and the TARDIS shimmered and then disappeared. "We don’t need to draw attention to ourselves. Let’s see if we can get inside."

Amy looked around and wrinkled her nose. “Inside where?”

The Doctor nodded his head and took the lead. “There’s a hidden entrance up here, I think. Come along.”

Rory glanced at Amy and then they followed the Doctor.

The Doctor looked up in the sky and saw a plane zoom over them. He saw flashes of light farther away. Probably more aircraft. He took his sonic screwdriver out again and checked it. “Yes, here.” They reached what looked like a rock formation. The Doctor bent down and pushed a tarp aside. He pulled up a door and walked down the steps. Amy and Rory followed.

They walked together down a tunnel, a path that slanted down and east, from what the Doctor could tell. When they could see light at the end of the tunnel, the Doctor slowed his steps. They crept quietly towards the opening.

The Doctor walked out onto the landing and looked down. There was a large opening beneath them, a pit. Humans walked back and forth, talking to each other and working. Some were packing supplies into boxes. Others were checking guns and restocking the ammo in their packs.

The Doctor led Amy and Rory down another small tunnel.

"What is this place?" Amy muttered.

"Umm, Doctor," Rory whispered. "What are those red lights ahead?"

The Doctor looked into the dim space and saw two small red lights. As they got closer, the Doctor realized the red circles were slightly above his eye level. Red eyes. He held up his hands immediately, palms open. “Uh, hello there?”

A metal figure moved out of the darkness and stepped toward them. It had a shining silver skeleton and held a large gun in its hands, pointed at the Doctor’s chest.

"I’m unarmed," the Doctor said. "We mean you no harm."

The figure took a step closer, keeping the gun pointed at the Doctor.

"On whose side do you fight?" The Doctor asked.

"The Human Resistance." The robot’s voice sounded male, but it was tinny and monotone. Its metal jaw moved in time with its words, but the mouth looked so unnatural.

"And who leads the Human Resistance?"

"John Connor."

"Ah, good. We’re here to see him." He glanced back to smile at Amy and Rory.

"No one sees John Connor." The robot’s response came immediately.

The Doctor turned back to the robot. “But we have a message for him. Is there a way we can deliver the message?” The Doctor kept his arms raised.

The robot took a step back and lowered the gun. “Wait here.”

It turned and walked away, each step precise. The movements were fluid but too exact to look natural. The Doctor could hear the machinery move and the gears turn that allowed the robot to walk.

When the robot was out of sight, Amy whispered, “Doctor, what is all this?”

"The future," the Doctor said in a low voice. "Or at least, this will be the future if things progress the way they’re supposed to."

A moment later, another figure walked toward them. It was  a young woman, but her body had the same combination of fluidity and unnatural exactness as the robot they spoke to.

The young woman stopped in front of the Doctor. “Are you the one who wants to speak to John Connor?”

"Yes," the Doctor nodded. "Me and my two friends here."

The woman looked over at Rory and Amy. Her face showed no emotion. She looked back at the Doctor. “If you have a message for John Connor, you can give it to me and I will deliver it.” Her voice was soft and certainly sounded human. Not at all like the metallic voice they heard from the first robot.

"I understand you can do that, but I’d really like to meet him if you don’t mind. Sorry, do you have a name?"


"Cameron. Thank you. Is there any way we can see John?"

Cameron’s eyes fluttered for a second. “One moment.” She stared down at the floor, as if she were listening to something. She lifted her eyes. “John says he will see you.” Her voice carried a hint of surprise, and then she turned away from them. “Follow me.”

The Doctor waved to Amy and Rory and walked after Cameron. Rory took a few extra steps to catch up to the Doctor and whispered, “Why does she move like that?”

The Doctor whispered back, “I believe she’s a cyborg.”

"A what?”

The Doctor cleared his throat to cover Rory’s reaction. Rory shook his head and walked back with Amy.  

They walked into a large room. Lights hung freely from the ceiling. Blankets spread out along the walls, except the far wall that held a bank of monitors. A man sat in a chair in front of the screens.

The Doctor moved to meet the man, but Cameron held him back. “One moment.” She picked up a black device and scanned over his body, like a metal detector in an airport. The Doctor chuckled. A Metal Detector.

Cameron moved the scanner over Amy and Rory and then announced, “Three humans.” She put the scanner back on a table. “You may move forward now.”

The man in the chair stood up and walked toward the group. The uneven lighting fell across his face, revealing a scruffy beard and gray eyes with dark circles under them. He stood about six feet tall with a thin but strong build. His medium brown hair was cut short. He was wearing a tattered gray shirt and ripped jeans.

The Doctor smiled. “Are you John Connor?”

The man nodded. “You could have told Cameron it was you.” His voice was deep and quiet, a raspy quality in it.

The Doctor leaned forward. “Sorry, do you know who I am?”

John nodded. “Yes, we’ve met. But you told me this would be out of order.” He held out his hand and smiled. “Hi, I’m John Connor.”

The Doctor shook John’s hand and stared at him. “Hi John, I’m the Doctor. It’s an honor to meet you. Umm, how do you know me?” The Doctor glanced around as he spoke, his eyes glancing at the monitors.

John pointed to one of the screens behind him. “The blue box.”

The Doctor saw the TARDIS on one of the screens and then looked back at John. “Huh.”

"You, well Future You, I guess, visited me a few years ago. You told me that I would see you again but you wouldn’t know me. He said to watch for the blue box."

"Your past, my future."

"Yes." John lifted his eyes. "Who are your friends?"

"I’m sorry." The Doctor motioned for Rory and Amy to come closer. "Rory, Amy, this is John Connor."

"Hello." Amy smiled and shook John’s hand.

Rory nodded to John.

John looked back at the Doctor. “You said you have a message for me?”

"Well, message. House call. I wanted to check in." He walked past John and looked up at the monitors. The Doctor looked down at the console. He pulled pair of glasses from his pocket and passed the sonic screwdriver over the keyboard.

John moved next to him. “Hey, what are you doing?”

"Checking your logs. History. I need to find out if this world is where it’s supposed to be."

"On the timeline, you mean."

The Doctor poked a few keys and then looked up. “Yes, exactly.”

John reached over the Doctor’s hands and pressed two keys. The center screen blinked and then displayed a horizontal line with years marked along it. Lines of text slanted upwards and downwards from the line. “This is the history I keep. It’s a little complicated because of what’s happening in the past, but it should tell you what you need to know.” John turned and leaned against the console. He looked at Rory and Amy but still spoke to the Doctor. “Last time you were here, you came alone.”

"Oh?" The Doctor was reading the timeline, scrolling through the years. "Sometimes I travel alone. Or I’ll just take a trip on my own."

"You gave me a message when I first met you. I’m supposed to tell you now, the second time I see you."

The Doctor turned away from the screen. “Now that’s interesting. What was the message?”

"Do not interfere."

The Doctor shook his head. “That was it? Do not interfere with what?”

John shrugged. “That’s all you told me. You said it’d be enough.”

The Doctor looked away from the screen, down to the floor. “Oh.” He looked up at John and flashed a smile. “Alright then.” The Doctor walked past John. “Amy, Rory, we have to leave.” He took Amy’s hand as he passed her. “Back to the TARDIS, come on.”

"Doctor, wait." Amy tugged on his arm. "Is something wrong?"

Rory walked on the other side of the Doctor. “What’s happened?”

"Ah…" The Doctor turned on his heel. "I imagine something is wrong, yes. Or will be." He looked around the room again and shook his head. "And apparently I’m not supposed to do anything about it, so we have to go." The Doctor saw Cameron off to the side staring at them. Her head tilted slightly to the side and she wasn’t blinking. John hadn’t moved but he was watching them too. The Doctor groaned. "Ohhhhh! Yes, have to go or else…" He tugged on Amy’s hand again. "Or else I’ll notice something." He stole a glance back at Cameron. "I’ll notice something that isn’t right. Ahhh…" The Doctor let go of Amy’s hand and ran his fingers through his hair. He fiddled with his bow tie. "Because I always notice, don’t I? I always have to find the thing that doesn’t make sense." He walked around in a tight circle. He looked at John again. "But I’m not supposed to interfere." He looked at Cameron. He moved in front of her and smiled. "So Cameron, how are you?"

Cameron straightened her posture and then replied. “Fine, thank you. How are you?”

"Good, thanks." The Doctor turned his head. "John, do you ever run tests with her? Diagnostics?"

John walked over to them. “You know what she is then?”

"I do, yes." The Doctor pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his coat pocket. He flicked his wrist and the tip of the screwdriver glowed green.

"Cameron can self-repair, but yes, I run tests to make sure everything’s okay."

The Doctor waved the screwdriver over Cameron from head to toe. Her eyes followed the glowing light. “And all circuits firing?”

"Yeah, everything’s fine."

"Right, okay." The Doctor put the sonic screwdriver away and patted John on the shoulder. "Right." The Doctor looked at John for a moment. "Hmm." Then he turned back to Amy and Rory. "We’re off then. John, I’ll see you again but not the other way around."

The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors and stepped up to the console. He flicked switches and typed on the keyboard.

"Doctor, what was that about?" Amy asked.

The Doctor shrugged. “I’m not supposed to interfere, so we’re leaving. Good thing they’re aren’t crying children around, hey?” He forced a smile and spun around the console.

"What about the girl?" Rory asked. "Er, the cyborg. If she’s alright, then that isn’t what you noticed."

The Doctor snapped his fingers and smiled at Rory. “Good, that’s right.” He set coordinates on the control panel and then plopped onto the bench seat. He crossed one leg over the opposite knee. “It wasn’t Cameron. It was John.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Cyborg John. Isn’t that clever?”

Amy shook her head. “You mean he wasn’t human either?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Cyborg. Very advanced type. I’m assuming one of the shape-shifters. Passed for human until I touched him. Body temperature was off and his shoulder felt too dense to be human.”

Rory scrunched his forehead. “Why would he build a cyborg to look like him?”

"Oh, I think it’s brilliant." The Doctor stood up and walked back to the console. He pulled a lever. "Fighting cyborgs with cyborgs. The real John is building up his defenses. Must mean things are getting difficult. And tricky. Hmm."

"Well, that’s what they said," Amy added. "No one sees John Connor."

"Yes, well." The Doctor flipped a switch and the TARDIS spun faster. "I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet the real John Connor. I hope he’s okay, wherever he is."

Painfully honest.

Trigger warning for mentions of suicide, child death and mental illness.

One day, my little sister was teaching her Barbie dolls to swim in the bathroom sink.

The next, she was under a hospital sheet.

Dead. Expired. Shuffled off her mortal coil.

The day after the funeral (it rained) I went into her room and put some of her stuff in a box to remember her by. Some beads off a broken bracelet, some sparkly hair clips, her favourite turquoise nail polish (she stole it from me) and some sea shells. I slept with it in my arms that night, pretending she was still alive and we were sharing a bed like we used to when we were little. But the stuff in the box turned sour and putrid, a pretty little reminder that she was never coming back. 

I lit a fire in the field with the apple tree and threw in the little wooden box. I watched the smoke trail off into the sky and wondered if she could see it from heaven. Then I realized that I didn’t believe in that shit anymore.

My mother, haunted by the images of a six year old lying face down on the road (no blood on her, all the damage was inside) swallowed a handful of pills and floated off to the great beyond. The funeral was on my 12th birthday. Nobody remembered. My little brother held my hand and squeezed it when they put our mum in the ground. Neither of us cried. To us, she had died the day our sister did. Our bouncy, funny, cheery mother who sang as she watched the dishes and couldn’t cook had been transformed into a silent creature, with lank hair and cold eyes who slept all day.

I can still hear her voice. I can still smell her perfume. I can still feel my little brothers hand, wrapped around my own as we lay terrified and freezing cold in an alleyway, abandoned by everyone but each other.

My therapist thinks I have been pretending to be strong for so long that I have forgotten how to be honest about my feelings. That’s not true. I have never felt so honest in my whole life as I do right now, lying on my bathroom floor. It is almost done. 

(Sorry it’s a week late) Hunger Games Fanfiction, from between the 2nd and 3rd books

A soft metallic purr alerted Peeta to the fact he was regaining consciousness. He did not open his eyes immediately he just listened relaxing under the noise’s calming influence, slowly letting his thoughts return to his sleep addled brain.

                When his had gained enough consciousness for his memories to begin to return Peeta grew weary and frightened, he remembered what the mechanical purring implied. A clink of equipment close to his head confirmed his suspicions, and Peeta’s brain froze on the one thought danger.

                It had been a week since Katniss had been rescued from the hunger games and he’d been taken prisoner by the Capitol. A long and almost unbearable week of interrogation, humiliation and pain. However this was not what frightened Peeta, he had coped with the pain this long. What frightened him was that he might not be able to hold on much longer. He felt like the Capitol were going easy on him, he was sure if they really wanted to break him they had more efficient ways of it, this was just a test, of what he didn’t know.

                It all felt like a waste however, as soon as the pain got bad enough Peeta knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his resolve. No matter how hard he focused his consciousness on not giving in, when they finally hurt him enough for him to forget everything but the pain Peeta was sure he’d give in. He knew that once his subconscious human instinct kicked in there was no hope of his resistance.

                He felt glad that he knew nothing that he could give away. He couldn’t hurt the rebellion he’d only aid the Capitol by being their poster boy and he knew the boy with the bread was nothing compared to the girl on fire.

                He peeled open his eyes letting his vision flood with light so bright it blinded him. As his vision grew accustomed to the light his pulse began to quicken.

                The room was a crude copy of a hospital operating theatre, over his head bright floodlights shone down warming his skin and exposing him to those surrounding. The bed he was on was a thin grey plastic mattress atop a metal trolley, next to it was another smaller trolley on which sat a metal dish with a which usually held a array of scalpels, surgical clamps, but today only held one syringe filled with a glowing amber substance.

                Peeta wore nothing he lay helpless and naked at the mercy of the people who peered over their face masks at her. His hair was gone, hastily shaved so only bristles touched the bed beneath his head. Admittedly Peeta had not managed to grow much hair since his last trip to this room so it was not a great loss, but it still hurt him deeply as, it symbolised he had no identity any more he was a puppet of the Capitol. His arms, waist and ankles were strapped down so tightly to the bed he was unable to do anything but lift millimetres away and it took a lot pain and struggling on his behalf to do that. He was stuck, yet again a play thing of the Capitol.

                From somewhere behind his head he heard a murmured conversation, he could hear a lot of what they were saying but he managed to distinguish “Katniss” and “… tracker jacker venom” from the whispers. This scared him then, the thought of Katniss being in danger was far worse than the idea of his pain. He hoped one day he’d find out she was safe but until that day came he knew he would assume the worst every time he thought of her. Even if the rebels won the brewing war, he knew the Capitol would not stand by and let Katniss survive when she symbolised so much in the districts.

                A man in surgical overalls and covered face stepped up to him and picked up the syringe causing a metallic chink to echo round the room. Peeta gasped as a sharp sensation in his right forearm told him the liquid was entering his system. He could feel the chill of the liquid as his pulse transported the liquid around his body and to his heart.

                His heart grew cold on his vision began to blacken around the edges, he tried to fight it but it was too strong and he felt himself falling asleep.

                A thought occurred to Peeta during his last moments of consciousness, what is if it isn’t a liquid that causes pain, what if it’s a lethal injection. Fearing the worst he tried to speak, but his mouth was too sleepy to form the words properly, he only managed to slur out “is sheee afeee” before he lost consciousness.


                Peeta’s lay against something cold and very solid, the whole of the right side of his face numb from the exposed contact with it. He stretched out his arms and legs and was surprised to find a burning pain in his right thigh.

                He looked down at his thigh and saw that it was wrapped in a bandage but the ribbons of infection, blood poisoning, had crawled out from underneath and covered most of his leg in a ugly red.

                Slowly he began to remember what had happened the night before, Caesar Flickerman’s invitation to the feast, the promise of medicine and Katniss drugging him to save him. “Katniss” the whisper escaped Peeta’s mouth before he could stop it. He pushed his torso up and looked around for her.

                She lay next to the entrance of the cave, water droplets dripping down onto her still body from outside, motionless. Peeta hauled himself over to her and shock her trying to wake her.                “Katniss, wake up.” He shook her harder but she gave no response. “Wake up! Wake up!” he tried slapping her face to see if she’d wake up that way, but still she gave no response. That’s when he saw the blood.

                There was a bloodied dent on her right temple, it was only small but there was a lot of blood crusted around the blood. She must have been attacked when she was at the feast but managed to get back here to him, where she’d passed out.

                “Kat-“ Peeta’s voice broke this time as he reached round to her neck to find a pulse. He began to gasp uncontrollably as the seconds ticked by and still he found no pulse.  

                He began to sob, so hard he began to hiccup and became light headed from the lack of oxygen. He lifted her lifeless body to him and began to rock with at it his tears mixing with her blood.

                A scuffling toward the cave’s entrance caught his attention after about 10 minutes of this and he watched as a figure in a coat so large he was indistinguishable entered the cave. The man straightened and looked down at Peeta, “It’s no use Peeta, she’s gone.” As the man said this he pulled down his hood revealing the silver white hair and puffy red lips of President Snow.

                Peeta was too numb to react he just stared blankly at Snow as he was addressed. “The cannon is about to fire, but I’ve managed to convince the game makers to hold off until I’ve finished talking to you. They’re currently filming some fight with the other tributes to fill the time.”

                “I’m here to tell you why Katniss Everdeen died Peeta, and the public cannot know. She died because of you; you gave her the idea of rebellion Peeta, up on the roof of the training centre. We had you bugged, what was it you said “you wanted to die as you? You didn’t want to be a piece in the games?  Yes that was it, well because of you Katniss openly revolted against the Capitol when her friend Rue died. She disobeyed us in order to try and give Rue a special send off. It’s a shame really she might have won if it wasn’t for that one mistake. We couldn’t allow her to go around challenging our authority especially with that performance in training. No, we had to arrange an accident for her, so she tripped on a loose rock on her way back here, and here she is, dead.”

                “Katniss,” Peeta murmured smoothing back her hair, “She did that b-because of me? It’s my f-fault.” He broke down into tears again and clutched her tighter.

                “Peeta, I’m here to make a deal with you, you might have involuntarily killed Katniss, but you can still protect what she loves. If you don’t co-operate with the Capitol’s wishes from now on we’ll have to arrange an accident for her little sister, the one Katniss loved so much. You wouldn’t want that would you Peeta?”

                Peeta shook his head a little, still avoiding eye contact. “I’ll do whatever you want, just so long a Prim remains unarmed, I’m yours.”

                “Excellent” replied Snow and with that he turned and left. Peeta jumped as the sound of the cannon to signal Katniss’ death erupted overhead.


Hold My Heart

James ran up the stairs to the roof of the apartment building, where he knew he would whip the door open to find Isabele sitting in her purple lawn chair, eating a chocolate brownie with tears in her eyes. He silently prayed that he would find her otherwise occupied, but that was not the case. He found her in her normal seat, eating a double chocolate brownie and tears were streaming down her face. Upon hearing the door open, Isabele looked over at James and whispered, “Jamie…”

James rushed over to where Isabele was seated and wrapped her in his arms. “I know, Bele. I know.” He helped Isabele off her seat to hold her even more tightly. There was nothing that could tear him away from Isabele at this moment. After a half an hour (by James’ estimation), he spoke again, saying “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

“How could this happen? I don’t understand…daddy…” Isabele managed to squeak between sobs. “I don’t understand…”

“It’ll be okay. I promise, Bele.” James kept his arms tightly around Isabele.

And for what seemed like an eternity, Isabele stayed huddled in James’ arms. When Isabele could finally straighten herself up, James wiped the tears from her eyes, asking “Bele, what happened? All I know is what I caught on the phone, which was Dad and dead. That’s all I could make out. What happened?”

Isabele looked at James, replying, “Dad was driving home from work when some idiot jumped the median. He died upon impact. That’s what the police say. What am I going to do, Jamie? Both of my parents are gone now. I have no family. I’m alone in the world.”

“Bele, you are not alone. I never want to hear you say that again. I’ll be here with you forever. Do you hear me, Bele? I’ll always be here for you. You’ll move in with me. I already cleared it with my parents. We’ll help you move all your stuff. You can move into the guest room. We’ll turn it into your bedroom.” James brushed her hair out of her face. “My parents have invited you. They love you.”

Isabele smiled slightly at the offer, “I can’t do that. I wouldn’t want to impose on your parents.” She readjusted so that she was laying down with her head resting in James’ lap.

“My parents insist. They won’t take no for an answer. They’ve already began shopping for your room.” James stroked her hair, “you need somewhere safe to go and I don’t want you moving away and ending up in the system. I don’t want that for you and neither would your dad. I want you to move in with me so that you’ll never be too far.” James looked down at the girl—the young woman—who sat weeping in his lap, his best friend in the world and the best friend he could imagine having. He couldn’t imagine the pain that would ensue if she moved away. The thought almost brought tears to his eyes. James knew he could not cry, not now at least; Isabele needed him to be here for her.

“Whenever I need you, you show up, no matter where I am. You always have . You are the best friend a girl could ask for and I love you for that. Can I crash at your place for a while? Too many memories at my place right now. I don’t think I could take it and stay sane. I just need to be around you right now.” Isabele looked up and entwined her fingers with James’.

“You can stay with me for as long as you need to. Hell, you can stay with me forever. Whatever you need. You know you just have to ask.” James looked at their hands intertwined, thinking about how much he wanted her to be with him forever and feeling his heart sink at the thought that eventually, she would find someone to hold her heart.

Imagination Library is a place where tumblr users have grouped together with the aim of creating a blog that produces new content every week throughout 2012. The content will be stories in the form of fiction, non fiction and fan fiction and will be posted every other Sunday on this blog. It is a group project and everyone is welcome to join in. All contributions are greatly appreciated here, be it something little like reblogging a story or as big as becoming part of the team. If you would like to become part of the team all you need to do is inbox us and we’ll get back to you and find a way you can get involved.