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James and Sirius, for today an accountant and a dentist, respectively, put the finishing touches on the Haunted Mansion (they had started the night before, and upon finding that in the morning their changes were still there, they had been quite pleased and finished up). Now that the room where the ceiling rose was magicked so that everyone would fit in it and still have plenty of space to move. On top of that, they had magically rewired the loudspeakers to the room, put up some spooky decorations, and even completed it with fake, scary looking ghosts (they had both been quite disappointed in the morning to discover that some of their ruder decorations, including hot, naked ghosts, were removed).

Then, James began to write the letters, and started some music.

Crowley,

We're throwing a party at the Haunted Mansion. Do you think you could provide refreshments? Feel free to come as well.

- James Potter and Sirius Black

Then, identical letters were sent out to everyone in the park.

Hey,

There will be a Halloween party at the Haunted Mansion in New Orlean's Square. Come around and have a great time. Also, if you have drinks or food that you want to bring to share, feel free.

- James Potter and Sirius Black

On the bottom of the paper, there's a witch flying on a broom, actually moving around on the paper.

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"Oh, is that what that was about?" Sirius asked when the Doctor spoke. "Don't worry, it's just magic. James and I are wizards, you see."

The Master gave one abrupt blink. Er....

"What?"

James couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, looked at Sirius, and said "You deal with them," before walking away, still laughing.

The Doctor's mind flashed back to the writing on the invitation. –James Potter and Sirius Black, but it couldn’t possibly…–

“No!” he exclaimed at –with that hair and the glasses it could only be– James’s retreating back.

Sirius couldn't help grinning as well, even if he felt sort of bad for the muggles. "Wizards who can do magic. I could show you," he began, and then the Doctor shouted at James.

"Prongs, wait," he shouted at James. "What do you want with him?" he asked, confused.

"Huh?" Leon asked, then looked at the Doctor and then Sirius. "What?"

“I… well, I just…” the Doctor started. “I mean, ~~Leon~~* James Potter and Sirius Black. The James Potter and Sirius Black?”

((*giggles))

((... I have a problem. Also, if you feel the urge, it's fine with both of us if they're told that they're fictional.))

"The one and onlys!" said James. He wasn't surprised at all, seeing as he was sure that he and Sirius were legends at Hogwarts. It seemed that some part of him wasn't acknowledging that the Doctor clearly didn't know about their kind of magic.

Sirius, on the other hand, didn't say anything, but his hand went to his wand. This man seemed harmless thus far, but name-recognition was perhaps not as good a thing for him as it was for James.

The Master reached over and thumped the Doctor in the chest with the back of his hand. –shut up, shut up–

This just wasn't on, damnit. All sideways now, more so than the room. "That's not...."

“That’s… that’s,” –he was certainly stuttering a lot, wasn’t he?– “That’s fantastic. It’s an honor to meet you both, really, I mean that…”

He apparently ignored the Master hitting him, but the message distantly registered. – and he was pointedly not thinking about what this meant, about the implications of meeting fictional characters in this place.–

Sirius was somewhat less tense at the Doctor's enthusiastic response, but he still wasn't buying it. "So, you've heard of us? But you haven't heard of charms to make the inside of a room larger than the outside? Who are you two exactly?"

“Well, you see,” the Doctor started, “That is, we’ve heard of you, of course, but we didn’t know… I mean, we’re not from Earth, so we weren’t sure if you were real or not? since the average human being doesn’t know much about wizards and witches, it’s hard sometimes for an extraterrestrial to figure out what’s truth and what’s fiction.”

“I’m the Doctor and this is the Master.” He gestured at the other Time Lord.

–wrong, wrong, wrong, no, not possible even in a place without stars there shouldn't be–

The Master didn't have it in him to find a roll of duct tape and use it on the Doctor's mouth. As it was, he happened to know that wine wasn't the only thing the other was carrying on his person. He reached into the Doctor's right coat pocket and pulled out a bottle of scotch (it looked like that bottle had just sort of appeared there, as it had made no impression on the fabric and looked slightly too big to fit in a coat pocket) while introductions were made.

He didn't even bother to wave this time, before opening the bottle and chugging. The Doctor really didn't have the right to stop him at this point.

The Doctor turned his head to look at the Master when the other was suddenly digging around in his pockets, but he didn’t say anything as the Master took a rather long drink from the scotch bottle.

He waited until the Master had lowered the bottle, swiped it, and took a swig himself before handing it back. He offered the bottle of François Pinon to Sirius.

“I also brought a rosé and a bottle of gin and some Dark Island (http://www.beers-scotland.co.uk/product.asp?P_ID=117), for those who appreciate a good Scottish brew. Oh, and there are some fruit drinks in here too, for the people who don’t want alcohol…” He dug around in his pockets, coming up with the gin and a bottle of jrezi fruit juice from the planet Gics.

"...Like in Star Wars!" Sirius exclaimed. Much like his knowledge of robots (http://community.livejournal.com/dizzy_land/186146.html?thread=10861858#t10861858), Sirius was only vaguely aware that people from other planets was a concept muggles had beyond those particular movies.

The offering of so much fantastic alcohol just sealed the deal as far as Sirius was concerned. "Fantastic," he said. "The other guy with all the alcohol is a real bastard, good to meet some people with a healthy concept of share and share alike. Let me just apply a replenishing charm," he said, taking out his wand. "Doctor and Master, then, is it? Nice to meet you. So what exactly did you lot hear about us?"

“Something like, yeah,” the Doctor answered. –in a tone of voice that said ‘no not at all, but that’s alright– He handed the gin and jrezi fruit juice to Sirius, and dug back into his pockets again. “Hang on… ha!’ He pulled out a six pack of Dark Island, a jug of strawberry banana juice, and the rosé, and it was now acutely obvious that all those things shouldn’t have fit into normal pockets.

“Oh, you know, here and there,” he said dismissively, trying to lean forward and get a better look at the wand while making it look like he wasn’t. The Master, meanwhile, had gone back to the scotch as soon as Sirius had mentioned Star Wars. The Doctor still couldn’t blame him –what did it mean, it was impossible, but Mickey was here and the Cheshire Cat and…– “Can’t hang around Earth for too long without picking these things up; you two are relatively famous, you know.”

Sirius began tapping his wand against the bottles as the Doctor spoke, muttering incantations under his breath to ensure that the alcohol wouldn't run out.

"Famous among wizards," he said. "I didn't know anyone else had heard of us. And my reputation isn't so great." He smiled. "Unless you're from the future, I suppose? Maybe you've heard about my godson?"

The Master promptly inhaled some of his scotch. He began coughing.

He muttered something between hacks that sounded suspiciously like, "The Boy Who Lived To Defeat Evil By Virtue Of His Strong Martyr Complex And His Need To Be Validated By Useless Dead People?" Only half of the words were likely discernible at all. He couldn't help it. Ridiculous, soppy ending - he'd burned the bloody thing. He would have had JKR publicly executed if she hadn't died in the first wave of population thinning.

If the Doctor thumped the Master rather overly hard on the back, well, he was just trying to help. Really.

“Don’t listen to him,” he told Sirius, well, seriously. “Yes, we have heard of Harry, and he sounds like a truly remarkable boy.”

Sirius wasn't sure exactly what part of what the Master had been saying he ought to be angry about, but he fixed him with an intense glare. However, the Doctor speaking pacified him somewhat; there was something about him that Sirius couldn't help liking.

"Damn right he is," he said. "I suppose I should be glad you've heard of him. I've been told he gets through everything all right, but it's always good to have it confirmed."

“Oh yeah, better than all right. Boy was brilliant,” the Doctor couldn’t help himself from saying. Well, it wasn’t like Sirius was going to be around to influence the outcome anyway, and –listen to him, thinking about causality and paradoxes for fictional characters– without looking away from Sirius or losing his enthusiastic smile, he reached over and took the scotch back from the still sputtering Master.

–you bloody sap, Shut Up, there's nothing brilliant about being selfless, people do it so they can avoid guilt, what's so amazing or honourable about that–

The scotch was gone. By the time the Master had realized it and managed to wrench it back from the other Time Lord, there was only a swig left. He cocked his head at –Rassilon's left eye, another bleeding dead person, or at least he could be (but he's not real), not going to ask– Sirius and held up the bottle. "You said something about a replenishing charm?"

It was remarkably polite of him, not adding anything else to that statement about heroes and mythology and predictability. Nevermind the fact that he and Doctor had finished a bottle of scotch in about five minutes and did not appear to be intoxicated.

"Allow me," Sirius said, tapping the bottle with his wand and repeating the incantation from a few minutes ago. The bottle refilled itself.

Sirius had already been spoilered for quite a bit of his own life, or perhaps afterlife, so the Doctor probably couldn't do much harm at any rate.

"So how far in his future do you come from? Do you know anything else, how he's getting on?" He had to admit, he was curious. George had only been able to give him hazy details of the year following Voldemort's defeat.

((Haha, I so don't remember if the spell for that is ever given))

“Oh, brilliantly, as far as I know,” the Doctor babbled. “Married, kids, you know. Brilliant…” he floundered.