"Child of wh—" Hermione started. But before she could finish her question, two large, silent men materialized out of nothing. They dragged her from her seat, forcing her to follow the imperious old woman.

They kept her separated from The Doctor who kept following them, hopping up and down to try to see her over the hulks. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and aimed it at them. All it did was make one of the men point a finger at him and say Silencio. The screwdriver stopped lighting up.

They reached an imposing old house at the end of a dark street. The woman swept in, followed by Hermione and the men. The door shut itself before the Doctor could enter.

"So, Hermione Granger, it is about time you appear on this world," said the woman.

"I'm n–" Hermione started to say.

"Do not deny it," the old woman interrupted. "I have the histories. I have the photos. I am the Archivist of this world, and I know who you are." The woman practically hissed at her.

The Archivist's angry face reminded Hermione so much of Bellatrix Lestrange that she backed away in fear. "What do you want from me?"

"The prophecy states: She will come. From the past and the future and forever. She will teach what was lost and return what we need. Those who cannot will. She will come with the past and the future and forever. This is you. And you will teach us how to make wands," the woman ordered.

"I don't know anything of wandlore!" Hermione said. "All I did was talk a bit to Mr. Ollivander when we were stuck at Shell Cottage. I did get some books, but I don't have any talent for it! Harry did, but he isn't here. And he is your Child of Prophecy. I'm not." Hermione managed not to say 'so there!' and blow a raspberry at the woman, but it was a close thing. Something about the woman brought out the worst in her. Or maybe it was being told that she was a child of prophecy. Now I know how Harry felt. This isn't any fun.

The woman turned to her hulking side kicks and motioned them away. "You said you had books?"

"Yes, here," Hermione said, gesturing to her bag.

The woman shook her hands, basically telling her to get on with it. She was lucky she didn't get hexed, but Hermione was worried that anything she did wrong would get The Doctor into trouble. She didn't want that to happen.

The Doctor was pacing in front of the TARDIS. "A little romantic fun in a place founded by her kind should have been a good thing! But no, that couldn't happen, could it?"

He had been talking to himself, so he was a bit startled to be answered by a puff of smoke and a small ball of fire. The dragon in the cave next to where they had landed had been following his pacing and decided to answer.

"Really? You think I should just go back? And do what, clear a path?" He wasn't certain that he was going to get an answer, but the dragon nodded.

"She's not going to be happy. And when River's not happy, I'm not happy. And when I'm not happy, well, worlds fall. This could be fatal, you know?"

The dragon emitted another puff of smoke and a slightly larger ball of fire.

The Doctor headed back to the town, tinkering with the sonic screwdriver as he went and muttering to himself. "Wait, did I say River? Why would I say River? I'm with Hermione." He thought about the way he had felt with his wife and the way he felt with Hermione. He realized his feelings weren't only the same, but that he just fell into these impossible situations with her. Yes, he had taught Amy a bit about the TARDIS, but not the way he had Hermione. Not even Rose, Sarah Jane or Romana had touched him in the same way.

"Well, if the Fates and that wonderful, stubborn, crazy woman I married conspired to give me some time together, I'm not letting it go to waste," he declared his intentions to the sky and started running. He needed to make sure Hermione could get away from her captors.

As he headed back into town, zapping a doorway or gate here or there with the now functional screwdriver, the dragon stuck her nose into the slightly open door of the TARDIS.

She was fascinated by the lights, she tasted the sofa and dove right into the pool. When she got out and started looking for a bed, the TARDIS opened up a nice new part that looked just like a cave, and the dragon settled down for the night.

"Who are you?" Hermione demanded, once she had pulled out and replicated all one hundred thirty-four volumes she had with her that said anything about wand lore.

Hermione glared at the room around her. She was sitting in an old-fashioned living room that looked quite a bit like the one in Grimmauld books had been sent off to someone somewhere. Hermione was losing patience. She had drunk tea and eaten biscuits. She had tried to count the flowers on the wallpaper. That only took up about forty-five minutes. She waited and waited for the woman to answer. Instead, the woman just stared at her, as though she wanted to see right through her. She had just about given up hope, when she got a response.

"The Archivist, Child of Prophecy. I've already told you."

"Yes, I know that. But you really remind me of someone I didn't like, even though I'm pretty certain she died without having any children," Hermione said.

"I am not directly related to Bellatrix Lestrange," the woman said. "Thank you for the books. Some of our children are not able to do the wandless magic the rest of us can, and we don't want to leave them behind in their classes. We aren't heartless."

"Stay out of my head!" demanded Hermione, horrified that the Archivist answered her every thought. "I've given you what you've asked for, now let me go!"

They stared at each other for a while. A long while. It had been seven hours since Hermione had been taken captive.

The woman's mirror vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and spoke quietly to the person who had called her. She turned to Hermione, "Fine. You can go. But don't be surprised if there are more of us who want to keep you here. You are a font of knowledge, after all." She set up a personal shield as she spoke.

Hermione shook her head, pulled out her wand and blasted the door. She then knocked the furniture and bookshelves behind her and started running. She was trying to buy herself some time. She wished she could have kept the books from the crazy woman, but this world did seem to need them.

She looked over her shoulder and saw a crowd starting to gather to follow her. She realized as she was running that a way of escape had been cleared for her. She hoped it meant The Doctor was well.

When she heard voices behind her, she began to run, heading for the camouflaged TARDIS which she remembered was located near a dragon's cave. She certainly hoped the dragon was elsewhere. She was starting to think she was never going to get away when she heard a very familiar voice.

"C'mon, Hermione, you can make it!" yelled the Doctor.

"If I do make it, you are going to pay, Sweetie!" she hollered back, panting.

Just as the horde of torch-wielding maniacs began to get close enough to snare her in their sphere of magic, she reached the time machine. The Doctor held the door open for her.

She let him pull her in. Together they shut the door, and thankfully the magic users on the planet were unable to overcome the technology of the Time-Lord.

The TARDIS disappeared from the midst of the mob, a swirl of color and light and sound.

Inside, the Doctor put his arms around Hermione and hugged her close.

She followed her instinct and reached up to kiss him. He started to pull away, when something in his demeanor changed, and instead of pulling away, he pulled her closer, kissing her deeply.

Hermione was thrilled to the tips of her toes. Here were the fireworks she had been promised by every romantic novel she had ever secretly read. She showed no fear as he began to disrobe the both of them, moving her toward the bedroom she hadn't been certain he had.

"Everyone needs a place of their own, darling. I'm sure the TARDIS will give us a bed," he said.

Leaving behind a trail of clothing, they made it to the room, which was far more lush than Hermione expected. There was a big bed in the middle surrounded by thick carpets and wonderful wood furniture. As Hermione started to look around, she was distracted by his hands on her bare skin. She was certain she saw sparks.

"Don't worry about that, love. Nothing unusual, I promise," he said.

"You get sparks often?" she asked, then giggled at his dumbfounded expression. She shook her head, then reached up to kiss him again.

They fell on the bed, lost in each other. There were fireworks, and sparks certainly did fly.

In the quiet aftermath, cuddled in the bed, a great roar was heard.

Hermione turned to the Doctor, "Was that the dragon?"