"That explains so much!" the Doctor exclaimed excitedly, just as he also seemed to realize that he was facing a half-naked, furious, and magically powerful woman whose mental privacy he had just violated. His smile faltered slightly as he realized that it would be a really good time to apologize and explain. Therefore, he held up his hands in the (almost) universal sign of surrender.

"Hermione Granger, please lower your wand. I apologize. I shouldn't have looked in your mind without permission, but I wasn't gettin' the answers I needed. I didn't know if your secrets were dangerous, but I have a lot of enemies and I needed to be sure. I was hopin' to find out more, but I should've waited until you told me of your own accord. Not a patient man, though, me."

Just then his grin came back in full force, however. "Your response was fantastic by the way!" he said with feeling as he met her eyes and she saw his own blue ones gleam with interest and excitement. "Again, I apologize." He paused to place his hand over his hearts, "but it's been a really unusual encounter so far...and that's sayin' a lot when it comes to me."

Hermione pondered his explanation...and absentmindedly noted his attractive grin...but it was really the gleam in his eyes that decided her. She lowered her wand slightly, but...after all she had been through...she still held it ready - just in case.

"Tell me about it!" she agreed, a bit ruefully. "At least you aren't the one standing here in your underwear, though."

"Oh!" the Doctor murmured...and actually looked embarrassed for a moment as he realized just how exposed she actually was.

Hermione immediately got the impression that he was not used to taking the feelings of others into account...and that he had not realized that she might be uncomfortable in such a state...not until the moment she mentioned it. Just then, however, a soft humming sound filled the room and distracted her from such thoughts - especially when the man seemed to reply to the light noise in turn.

"Yep! I agree, Old Girl," he answered aloud while Hermione looked around in confusion.

Who's he talking to? she wondered before he turned towards her again.

"We'll get you a room and let you get cleaned up and dressed," he stated, and his disarming grin faded just a bit as he continued. "I think that you must've been through a lot today. Therefore, what d'ya say to a shower, clean clothes, and some food? Then we can talk and see if we can figure all of this out."

With those words, the Doctor plucked a dressing gown, which Hermione was positive had not been there before, off of the bed. She accepted it without a word, however. After all, she had seen much stranger things in her magical life.

The Doctor waited for her to put it on before he offered her his hand. She was a bit startled at the friendly gesture, but still allowed her small hand to slip easily into his larger one, anyway. The simple contact was nice, and she looked at the Doctor with gratitude for the small moment of pleasure, until he cleared his throat...almost nervously...and then gestured towards the door. Nevertheless, she noticed immediately that he did not relinquish her hand and, since she liked the comforting warmth, she decided not to mention it either as he led her out of the infirmary. As they walked over the metal grating floors and down the corridor, however, she spared a thought to wonder just what kind of building they were in that would have such features. It was put out of her mind for the time being, though, when he stopped at the first door that they encountered down the passage.

"This'll be your room while you're with us," he mentioned, his previously boisterous tone now much softer. "You should find everything that you need in there. Take your time and do what you need to do. When you're finished, just follow this corridor back out to the console room." He pointed out the direction with his free hand. "I'll be waitin' there for you." He received her quiet thanks with just a serious look, a small half-smile, and a nod...as well as a quick reassuring squeeze of her hand before he relinquished it...as he gestured for her to go into the room.

He waited until she had shut the door behind her before he leaned his head against the door frame for a moment as he tried to regain his internal momentum since something about the young woman had thrown him completely off balance. It's probably just because I've not had any real company in such a long time, he rationalized. Somewhat satisfied with the explanation for the moment, he turned and headed towards the console room in order to wait for his intriguing visitor. There was a new bounce in his step, though, that had not been present for quite a while. After all, it had been a long time since he had met a magical being and he found that he was eager to hear her story.

...

Hermione eyed the comfortable room in which she found herself with pleasure. It was simply and tastefully decorated – much like a boutique hotel. The large bed in the middle of the room was almost irresistibly inviting, but she knew that she needed to clean up first. However, when she tried to discover the ways and means to do that, she became increasingly more confused as she looked around. The room she currently occupied was obviously not a magical one, but it was clearly not a muggle one, either - especially since there were no outlets, switches, etc.

How do things work? How do you turn the lights off and on? she wondered with then the overhead illumination blinked out and left her in darkness for just a heartbeat. Then the soft lighting filled the room once more. Did I do that? she thought to herself and she set out to test it. Lights off, she thought, and they complied immediately. "Lights on," she suggested out loud and they flicked back on just as quickly. "Lights at 50 percent, please," she whispered and the lights adjusted themselves accordingly. So they are thought and voice controlled. That's certainly interesting, but it's also neither magical nor muggle. So what is it? she could not help but to wonder.

The thought was instantly curtailed, however, when she found the well appointed bathroom and the idea of a hot shower overwhelmed everything else. After all, personal cleansing spells were only meant for short term purposes...and she had not had the opportunity to take a real bath or shower for a very long time. Therefore, it had been quite a while since she had felt really clean. Consequently, she actually wore a real smile as she quickly stripped down to nothing and entered the spacious shower stall.

Even through her delight, however, she noticed when the water temperature adjusted itself to what she considered to be perfect, when the shampoo and other necessities appeared on the shower shelf, and when a set of fluffy warm towels were waiting for her when she finished. It was just like the dressing gown that had appeared in the infirmary. It certainly was odd. That much was for sure. However, Hermione could not bring herself to be extremely concerned about the situation because it felt so similar to benign House Elf magic...but not quite. Whatever it was...magic or otherwise...it seemed benevolent enough and she was determined not to worry about it. She would simply ask the Doctor for some answers when she saw him again.

Then, with her mind full of the enigmatic man who could read minds, smelled of Time, and who apparently lived in a place where every comfort was automatically provided, she walked back into the bedroom. Since she was wrapped only in her towel...and she had no idea where her original clothes had gone...she quite reasonably wondered what she was going to wear. As soon as the thought had crossed her mind, however, the closet door opened on its own, and displayed a rack full of perfectly sized clothing for her.

"Thank you!" Hermione automatically said aloud and heard a pleased hum in her mind in response to her politeness.

That solved the mystery for Hermione and she grinned as all of the puzzle pieces finally clicked together. "Oh, you're alive! You're sentient!" she exclaimed to the room specifically and to the building in general. "The Doctor calls you Old Girl, doesn't he?" She received a pleased affirmation directly in her mind again. "Telepathic, too, huh?" She was answered with another feeling of confirmation. "You know, I don't find this as weird as you might think since I actually lived in a sentient castle for the better part of six years. I'm Hermione, by the way, and you are…?" She left the question hanging, but was pleased when she received a response.

I am the TARDIS was the answer that was delivered directly to her mind.

So that's what the Doctor meant, Hermione realized as she continued the strange sort of conversation with the TARDIS while she dressed.

Through the experience, she realized with interest that her questions were answered mainly in feelings and pictures, rather than words. Hermione could also tell through the emotional type of communication that even though she was obviously quite fond of the man, the "Old Girl" was very pleased to have someone other than the Doctor around.

When Hermione was completely ready, she viewed the final product in the mirror, and she thought that she looked much better cleaned up. Her hair was not quite as wild as it had been before. Plus, the simple jeans and a soft jumper (one that didn't irritate the half-healed carving on her arm – especially since she had put a slight expansion charm on the inside of the sleeves in order to hide her wand, as well) fit nicely and looked good with a pair of boots that she also found in the closet. Hermione could not help but to smile again when the TARDIS sent a mental wave of cheerful agreement with that assessment. The witch then looked longingly at the bed and heaved a little sigh of disappointment as she realized that her host had probably waited for her long enough as it was.

I can always sleep later, she silently hoped. She spoke aloud again, though, when she politely thanked the TARDIS for opening the door for her as she headed out of the room and down the corridor in the direction that the Doctor had indicated earlier.

...

Meanwhile, while he was alone in the console room, the Doctor pondered the visitor aboard his ship. Where had she come from? After all, it was obvious that she was human and British and was, therefore, probably an Earthling. However, she had not denied being a witch when he had named her as one. The only problem with that situation, though, was that the Doctor did not know of any magical societies on the aforementioned planet. Therefore, if his suspicions were correct, then she could not really be from the same Earth that he had just visited. In fact, he doubted that she was from the current universe, at all - especially since he really could not think of even one single planet there where the inhabitants had real magic.

If that was the case, though, how did she get here...and how did she end up on the TARDIS in the first place? he wondered. Unfortunately, if she had indeed accidentally crossed the Void from an alternate universe...and a parallel Earth...then he would not be able to take her back home again. He just did not have that capability anymore - not without help from other Time Lords. He immediately crushed down on the grief that threatened to rise up within him at the thought of his people and forced himself to think about Hermione instead.

What am I going to do with the fascinating little witch? he wondered - especially since based on her earlier reactions, she apparently had been fighting a war, was on the losing side, and was now all alone. She probably did not even have a home to go back to, regardless of whether she was from a parallel Earth or not. That particular scenario was way too close to comfort to the Doctor's own lonely situation, however, and his carefully erected emotional barriers started to break down again. Thus, he found himself fighting back his own tears when he heard the young woman herself approach the console room.

He abruptly severed his unhappy musings and turned toward the corridor instead so that he could see her when she arrived. In spite of her unprepossessing entrance, he could not help but to smile because she looked almost unrecognizable as the woman he had found, unconscious and bloody, in the console room. In fact, she's much prettier than I realized, he mused...and his hearts beat a little faster for a moment...even though she's obviously too thin.

He had a feeling that her weight issue and almost-gaunt look was a result of whatever situation had brought her to him, however, rather than her natural state of being. He found that he had to force himself to look away from her fascinating hair, though - which had caught his attention because it almost seemed to have a life of its own - in order to bring his eyes back to her face. After all, he wanted to see her reaction to the TARDIS.

He had expected her to be amazed, but he had not anticipated that she would stop in her tracks and exclaim in surprise, "This is a control room...We are on a ship...You're a ship!" This last statement was not addressed to him, though, and he was confused for a moment until he realized that the TARDIS was humming with delight. Hermione was apparently talking directly to his ship...and the Old Girl was responding!

"A sentient ship," Hermione muttered delightedly. "Well, that explains a lot, I guess."

She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know of anything like you in either the magical or muggle world, so I am guessing that you are not of this world, at all." She fell silent for another moment while she pondered the implications of that idea. Then she placed a hand on the coral strut closest to her. "You're alien," she whispered to the ship - who simply responded by humming in a pleased affirmative again. Hermione then turned to catch the extremely surprised Doctor's eyes with her own before she walked over to stand directly in front of the stunned man. "That means you are probably alien, too," she stated matter-of-factly, "and if I combine that little fact with the smell of Time…hmmm…I guess that means that you are a time traveling alien." She paused again before she continued in a softer voice. "In truth, I think that you are a time traveling alien with two hearts!"

Despite his respiratory bypass system, he found that he could barely breathe as she made her assessment of him. He simply stared at her in surprise for a moment. "Yes. Is that alright?" he asked tersely, when he finally found his voice again. Who exactly is this fascinating woman and how had she come to that very unlikely, but extremely accurate and specific, deduction so quickly?

"Yeah, it most certainly is!" she answered enthusiastically and her eyes lit up as she smiled in his presence for the very first time. At the attractive sight, he could not help but to return that look with a grin of his own - despite his previous shock.