Chapter Text
“Really? My choice? Anywhere I want?”
“Really! After all of these trips I feel like it’s high time you get to choose!”
The Doctor wrung his hands in typical Doctor-fashion and flashed that silly grin at Clara, who was standing beside the TARDIS console, not believing what she heard.
“Well you said that so many times before,”replied Clara. “And every single time I make a decision you either say it’s far too boring for any fun or land us in a completely wrong place, at the wrong time!”
“It’s hardly my fault, is it!”retorted the Doctor, frowning. “Transatlantic trade? Boring. And to be frank this old girl”-he patted the edge of the console- “doesn’t always go where I want to!”
“But, you do have a point. So this time why don’t we do something different?”The Doctor quickly changed the subject as Clara raised an eyebrow, which usually meant she had things to say, things that would take ten minutes at least and drive him up the wall. “Let’s say I let you drive the TARDIS this time, eh? You, Clara Oswald, get to determine the destination. Happy with that?”
“I could live with that,”answered Clara, smiling at the Doctor, but her eyebrow was still raised. “and how exactly are you going to do it?”
Clapping his hands together, the Doctor spun around on his feet, grabbed Clara’s hand and reached for the console. He led her to the control panel with all the confusing buttons and switches and, in Clara’s astonishment, took the metal panel right off.
Underneath the controls was not the mess of wires and cables that Clara had anticipated, but neat columns of what looked like fleshy, vibrating muscles. The flesh-like components emitted a soft light and somehow seemed alive.
“This,”said the Doctor proudly, “is the TARDIS telepathic circuit. I’ll hook you to the circuit and the TARDIS will be have immediate access to your telepathic field, meaning that she will know precisely what you think and will be able to re-programme those thoughts into the coordinate system, taking us wherever, or whenever, or actually both, you want to be.”
“So it can read my mind.”summarized Clara.
“Yes, but when you say it like that it’s a lot less awesome,”answered the Doctor, guiding Clara’s palm over the pulsing lines of glowing circuits. “Now, stick your hand right here, and think of a destination. Anywhere, somewhere new or magical, but do try to avoid places that are really, really boring...”
Clara closed her eyes. New and magical... magical...? There is one place she yearned to go that was very magical indeed...
The reassuring whir-whir of the TARDIS sounded and then - BOOM! The time machine lurched forward with an ear-splitting noise that could not have meant anything good. Clara’s eyes fluttered open in a panic and she tried to draw her hand out of the flesh, but the Doctor’s hand was still clamped around her’s in a firm grip and she was unable to do so.
“Doctor! Let go of my hand!”she exclaimed, craning her neck to get a better look at the Doctor behind her.
“I can’t ! The TARDIS wouldn’t let go!”She was surprised to find that the Doctor’s voice contained an equal amount of shock and nervousness. “She’s holding on to us for some reason- Clara, where did you wish us to go?”
“Hogwarts! Why?”
“HOGWARTS? Why in the name of Rassilon would you want to go to HOGWARTS?”
“You said anywhere and magical and not boring in the same sentence! Where else am I supposed to think of!”
“Bu- but, isn’t that just a story to you humans?”
The pressure around her hands finally slackened and Clara retrieved her hand from the clearly malfunctioning machine without hesitation. The turbulence they experienced soon ceased as well. She whirled around to face the Doctor and bit back.
“Well, in my defense, you didn’t say anything about fantasy and we’ve been to... far... stranger...pla-”
Her sentence fell into a series of incoherent syllables and her already big eyes dilated with sheer shock. In front of her, was a child, undoubtedly the Doctor, for he had the same floppy hair and gangly features and an obnoxious chin, but- it was a child. A child no more than 12 standing in a bundle of clothes and a bow-tie dangling loosely around his neck.
“What?”The child-Doctor spoke in a cute child-ly voice. He was unbelievably slow sometimes.
“But- but-”stumbled Clara. It only took her a split second to notice that her voice was too very immature and rather high pitched.
She looked down at her hands: they were the hands of a child, chubby and soft. She quickly realized something and and her hands flew to her clothes, thankfully, her blouse still covered her mostly, though a bit loose-fitting, and her skirt still clung to her waist.
“Have you shrunken, Clara?”asked the Doctor, amused and unaware that he suffered a fate likewise. He attempted to move closer to his companion but tripped over his drooping tweed jacket in mid-step with a muffled Ouch!
“No! I have not shrunken, well yes, but more like in age and not height-”Clara snapped at the comment concerning her height, but her eyes lit up with a mischievous glint as she spoke again.
“Look at yourself, you idiot! You’re a... you’re a child! Like me right now! How is that even possible? I thought you said you could regenerate or something and you in childhood definitively doesn’t look like that.”She exclaimed, trying not to laugh too rudely.
“I’d half laugh myself to death if it did though.”She added.
“What?!”shouted the Doctor, and Clara covered her ears: he could shout very loud for an 11-year-old. He struggled up and examined himself in the reflection of the TARDIS console for a few seconds, fiddling with his hair and touching his chin, pondering on something and looking too solemn for a child.
WHOOSH- BAMN!
The TARDIS shook violently again and both passengers were thrown to the ground. This time the Doctor was quick to respond, he fumbled within his jacket frantically and moments later produced a small spray bottle with a weird, glimmering liquid inside. He sprayed himself, a dust of glitter fell on him and suddenly he was wearing a white t-shirt, faded brown suspenders, a pair of red sneakers and, of course, a bow-tie.
“Clara, catch!”The bottle soared into Clara’s tiny, outstretched hands, “Think of something to wear and spray yourself! Make it quick! I can feel the TARDIS trying to kick us out!”
“Kick us wha-”
“Just do it!”