The Doctor looked over at Hermione and smiled to himself. After all, the woman had fallen asleep on the couch surrounded by the books that she had selected. While he gazed at her, he thought about the cautiously pleasant hours that they had just spent as they browsed through the shelves and discussed so many of the neutral topics that the books provided – especially since Hermione was interested in everything!

It had been especially gratifying to the Time Lord because he had always considered himself to be a scholar, but he had never met anyone before with such a natural enthusiasm for knowledge and research that could rival even his own. Hermione, however, proved that she was definitely his equal in that aspect as she asked one intelligent question after another during their lively conversation.

At the same time, she also inadvertently dropped little snippets about her old life that he found to be absolutely fascinating. Even though he did not push her into telling her story (since she was obviously not ready for that), he did listen intently with the hope of catching even more information. At any rate, it did not take long before he had definitively decided that she was the single most interesting human being that he had ever met. Not only was her conversation pleasant and diverting, despite the haunted look that was often present in her eyes, but she had also selected such a huge stack of books to peruse that even he had to express some concern about carrying all of them. When he mentioned it to her, however, she just sent a little devious half-smile his way and reminded him that she was a witch. Then she had intrigued him yet again when she pointed her wand, muttered a spell, and levitated the entire pile of books that they had selected over to the lounge area without even breaking a sweat.

After that, they read in the companionable silence of true bookworms, punctuated only by Hermione's occasional questions about her reading material and his subsequent answers, as well as frequent bathroom breaks due to the copious amounts of tea that they consumed in the process. In fact, the TARDIS even decided to add a loo adjacent to the lounge area – just to make things more convenient for them. The witch was suitably impressed by the ship's abilities and told her so. This pleased the TARDIS so much that she also made a point to provide Hermione with every other comfort that she could possibly desire while still in the library. Consequently, the Doctor had to hide his amusement at finding his reading area suddenly inundated with fluffy pillows and cozy blankets, along with the apparently bottomless teapot, by grumbling good-naturedly about domestics.

Time passed in this manner until he found himself looking at the peacefully sleeping woman and his hearts warmed. She looked lovely...simply lovely...in her repose. At some point, she had slid into a comfortable resting position – somewhere between reclining and lying down. Her head rested on her arm, her lively hair was spread around her everywhere, and an open book rested against her chest since her still-exhausted body had reluctantly succumbed to sleep in the middle of a page. As the Doctor gazed at her, he noted that she did not seem to be troubled by bad dreams at the moment. He was very grateful for that because he knew that she needed restful sleep in order to heal, both physically and emotionally. Therefore, in order to make her more comfortable, he cleared some of the books away for her and gently covered her up with one of the blankets that the TARDIS had provided. Then, without questioning his reluctance to leave her by herself, he sat back in his chair with a book in order to watch over his mysterious visitor while she slept.

...

Hermione opened her eyes and the first thing that she noticed was that she felt much better. The Nutristrips, vitamins, and the much needed sleep had all worked together to help her feel more like herself. It took her a moment to realize where she was, though, but once she looked around and recognized the library, she smiled.

What a wonderful location in which to wake up! she thought enthusiastically.

It was then that she realized that her companion was still in the library, as well, and had also fallen asleep in his chair. Therefore, she sat up quietly in order not to disturb him. She moved slowly, as well, as it became obvious how sore her muscles were. She carefully ignored the reasons behind the pain, however, and resisted thinking about her situation as much as possible. She just was not ready to face those particular truths, again…not yet, at least.

In fact, Hermione decided to focus her thoughts on the much more pleasant topic of the man...or alien, as the case may be...next to her, instead. She was glad that he was asleep because it gave her the opportunity to study him at leisure without the embarrassment of being caught doing it. He seemed to be such a private person that she wanted to take the opportunity while she had the chance.

Consequently, she looked closely at her host. He had fallen asleep facing her (Had he been watching me sleep, too? she wondered, a bit sheepishly) with his head resting on the back of the chair. Even though, he had admitted that he was not, his features seemed very human. They were sharp, defined, and quite handsome, as well, she decided, upon further review. In fact, she found that she had to resist the ridiculous temptation to reach out and stroke a finger along his prominent nose. Since it was thrown over the arm of the chair, she realized that he must have also taken his jacket off at some point after she had fallen asleep. That action allowed her to see, and admire, just how well his black jumper hugged his physique.

He was not just physically attractive, though. She thought about how kind and thoughtful he had been to the complete stranger who had literally just dropped in on him. He and his ship (And wasn't that an interesting development in and of itself?) had taken her in, given her medical attention, and had fed, clothed, comforted, and befriended her. His obvious love of knowledge, and his patience with her many questions, were also points in his favor. She did not even find his status as a time traveling alien to be that odd since her introduction to the magical world at the age of eleven had made her much more accepting of the strange and unusual. Therefore, she felt quite comfortable with him.

Maybe even a little too comfortable, she thought wistfully - especially since she had the feeling that she was already quite attracted to the man. However, she knew that she carried too much physical and emotional baggage…and her life was way too uncertain…to even think about things such as romance and sex at the current time. It was probably a moot point, anyway, since the Doctor had not given any indication that he had that kind of interest in her. They had only just met, after all! She was grateful that he seemed willing to be her friend, though. Merlin knew that she needed one!

With that thought, her mind started to drift towards the inevitable memories. She pushed them back down again, however, because she was still not ready to deal with them. Instead she concentrated on working some of the soreness out of her muscles. While she flexed her arms, she realized the glamour charm that had previously covered her forearm to hide that horrible woman's handiwork, had worn off. She did not really want the Doctor to see it, though, so she grabbed her wand off of the table next to the couch where she had put it while reading, and waved it over the affected area. She had just started muttering the first word of the spell when the distinctive Northern voice next to her spoke.

"Don't!" he said firmly. Hermione looked up quickly to see that not only was he was unexpectedly awake, but that he also watched her intently.

"Why not?" she asked, as she met his eyes. "It's not the easiest thing to look at and you shouldn't have to see it. I don't want you to be uncomfortable every time you look at me!"

Too late for that, the Doctor thought, but not for the reason you think!

He shut that ironic thought down quickly, however. "Hermione," he said instead, "nobody could ever think of anything negative when they look at you!" Then he glanced down, a bit sheepishly, as he noticed her small smile and realized what he had actually said. He regrouped and forged on quickly, though. "Just leave it be! It will heal easier if there is nothing obstructin' it and I assume that means magic, as well. I put some salve on it yesterday, while you were asleep in the infirmary, and it already looks a bit better. However, I hope that you'll consider lettin' me run the Dermal Regenerator over it today. There'll still be a scar, afterwards, but at least it'll be fully healed." He reached over and took her hand in his and then lightly stroked the carving with the tip of one finger on the opposite hand.

"What does it mean, anyway?" he asked curiously.

His question completely destroyed the light pleasurable feeling of his touch and Hermione sighed. She drew her hand back out of his and rolled her sleeve back down. "It's a slur on my blood status," she explained quietly. "It implies that I have dirty blood, that I am lower than low, just because my parents were Muggles…um…nonmagical people."

"I see," he replied just as quietly since he found that he had to reign in his anger so as to not frighten her with it. Instead, he looked at her questioningly as she stood up stiffly.

"I'm very sore today," she answered his unasked question.

He nodded in understanding since he knew that her muscles were probably responding to whatever kind of physical trauma that she had been through. "We'll go to the infirmary after breakfast, if you wish," he reassured her. "I think that I can help with that, too."

"Oh, Doctor," she said with heartfelt gratitude and her eyes lost a bit of their darkness. "You're being very good to me! I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"When you are ready, I'd like to hear your story," he answered gently. "I'd like to know more about you and what happened to you. That's all the payment that I require. Maybe, then, we can figure out where to go from there."

She nodded. "I'll try," she whispered and she chewed her bottom lip nervously as she wondered how she could possibly face the past while she also tried not to worry about what the future might (or might not) have in store for her!

"That's all you can do," he said with greater understanding than she would have thought possible. In fact, she wondered about his tone until he distracted her thought process with a question. "Now, instead of a Nutristrip, how would you like some real food for breakfast?" he asked.

At her enthusiastic affirmative, he grinned and jumped up with that inexplicable manic energy that he often displayed before he gallantly offered her his hand and led her to the galley.