Meanwhile, Hermione watched the Doctor. Contrary to what he thought, she had noticed his reaction to her kiss. She wondered why such a simple act of gratitude would have spooked him so much. However, she also realized that things probably were not so simple for him - especially since she also sensed that there was a deep sadness and loneliness in him. It was obvious in the way that he looked surprised, sometimes, when he laughed. It was as if he could not believe that he was actually enjoying himself. She knew exactly what it was because she felt the same way herself! Despite the fact that she had truly enjoyed her time here on the TARDIS with him so far, the sadness, guilt, and horror were always there – lying just below the surface. That is what she felt constantly and it seemed as if he did, too.

There must be a story there, she thought. Otherwise, why would such an amiable and attractive man be traveling alone when there was obviously room for so many more on the TARDIS?

She wondered if she could get him to tell her his story if she shared hers with him. Even though she did not really want to do it, she owed him that much at least. I guess there is no time like the present, she thought. Therefore, she grabbed his hand as he turned to leave the bed after setting up the DR.

"Please stay," she whispered. Then she took a deep breath and launched straight into her story. Otherwise, she would have lost her nerve if she had thought about it too much longer! Therefore, she did her best to lock her emotions away while she told him about the struggle to prove herself as she explored her new powers as an eleven year old in a strange magical environment. She spoke of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry. She then told the Doctor about her friendship with him and Ron (as well as the rest of the red-headed Weasleys). That led to an explanation of the dark wizard and his followers - all of whom they had spent their entire childhoods fighting in one way or the other. Then she took him on a year by year explanation of the pertinent adventures that had led to the…end. She started with the description of fighting the troll in the girls' bathroom during her first year and then ended with a detailed description of the events of the year on the run during the Horcrux hunt.

The Doctor watched Hermione in fascination as she told her story. She kept her eyes closed during her explanation, and he had a feeling that, as she was speaking, she was watching the events playing against the back of her eyelids - like a movie. She also told her narrative in a smooth even tone, as if she was simply reciting a script.

That is quite an apt description, though, since the events of her life would have made one hell of a movie! he thought. In fact, if he did not have such an insane life story himself, he probably would have doubted that the kinds of things that she described could even be possible at all! For example, he could scarcely believe that she and her friends had infiltrated a high security Goblin-run banking institution while disguised with potions as the enemy and then escaped on the back of a guard dragon! That was just fantastic! He had known that she was extraordinary, but he really thought that he was the only one who had adventures like that!

He really could not believe just how much she had been through in such a short time. He had theorized before that she was no stranger to conflict. However, he had no idea that she had invested her entire childhood in fighting, in one way or the other, for her world. The knowledge that she was such a strong woman at such a young age served only to strengthen his growing regard for her. She really was an amazing woman!

He also noticed how she carefully tried to keep the emotion out of her storytelling, but that the pain leaked through, anyway. He noticed how she paused and gripped his hand tightly as she spoke of her parents, her torture, and the deaths that he could tell were spiraling up to the final battle that had somehow brought her to him and the TARDIS. Her story was obviously getting harder to tell because the pressure on his hand was almost constant now, instead of the intermittent squeezes that she had given before. He wondered if she was even going to be able to make herself finish - when all of a sudden the DR beeped to signal the end of the healing cycle - just as she finished her narrative up to the point of arriving back at Hogwarts before the final battle.

He watched her carefully as he pulled back the blanket in order to turn off the machine. Her eyes were still screwed shut and her hands were clasped together since he had removed his own to deal with the DR.

"Hermione?" he called her name softly.

"Yeah?" she whispered with her eyes still closed. He could tell that she was trying to maintain her tenuous hold on her emotions.

"Hermione," he said a little more firmly. He needed to make sure that she was alright.

"Oh, Doctor…" she whispered brokenly as she opened her eyes and he could see that they were shining with repressed tears. She then lost whatever slim control that she had exerted over her grief. He reached out for her as she sat up and fell into his arms. He wrapped them around her, pulling her close again, as her body shook with the force of her sobs. His hearts ached for her, but he knew that she had to let it out. He knew that she hadn't even told him the worst part yet. She still needed to tell him about the final battle.

Grieving now would probably help to make that just a bit easier, though, he rationalized. At any rate, he held her until she had cried herself out. He could feel the TARDIS projecting comfort to her the entire time, as well, and marveled again at the kindred spirits that his ship and this remarkable young woman had become. When Hermione's sobs had finally trailed off, he held her during the aftershocks, as well. When she finally pulled away and tried to apologize, he would not let her. He whispered to her that grief was not a weakness and then just cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead gently. That simple action served to provide a small outlet for his own feelings, as well.

He took a minute to think about what else she might need. He soon realized that she was still in a state of undress and had started to shiver. He resisted the urge to gather her back up into his arms, however. It was not an appropriate time for that. Therefore, he removed himself from the bed in order to find her a dressing gown, instead. The TARDIS anticipated the need, however, and delivered one straight to her. Hermione thanked the ship quietly and donned it. The Doctor then suggested that she take some time in order to visit the bathroom, compose herself, and freshen up while he fetched the vitamin hypospray that he had prepared earlier, as well as a Nutristrip. He guessed that she wouldn't want anything to eat right then, but knew that she probably could use some nourishment, anyway. It had been quite some time since breakfast and her body was still recovering from her ordeal.

He was quite surprised, however, when she returned very quickly and sat back down on the bed. She took both of his offerings without complaint or argument - just quiet thanks. Then, finally, she took his hands in her own and held them in her lap.

"I've come this far," she said after a moment, while she looked down absentmindedly at their joined hands. "I think that I need to finish. In fact, I really want to go ahead and get it over with!"

"Hermione, you don't have to…" he started, but she cut him off.

"Yes! Yes, I do!" she exclaimed. "As bad as it is, I need to face up to it. Otherwise, it will just eat away at my soul and…" the rest of that statement was left hanging and unsaid, but the Doctor felt the unspoken words keenly, anyway. He knew exactly what she meant since his own secret pain ate away at him, as he watched Hermione struggle with hers.

She is so brave, he thought. Maybe I can… He did not get to finish that thought, however, because just then she spoke again.

"As for the final battle, I don't think I can properly describe what happened. Could you please…?" Here she paused. She then gestured at her head as she looked at him beseechingly with her still-moist eyes. However, he noticed that they were as full of determination as they were with grief. He felt a surge of pride for her when he realized that she wasn't going to back down from this – no matter how uncomfortable it was!

"You want me to look at your memories? In your mind? Now? Are you sure?" He wanted to be positive that he had her permission since he remembered her anger from the day before. How had it only been two days since she had appeared in his console room? He felt as if they already had a connection that ran much deeper than such a short acquaintance would suggest was possible. He felt as if he had known this woman for at least a lifetime already – especially now since she had shared so much of her amazing existence with him.

"Yes," she whispered. "It would be easier if we were in my world and I could just pour them into a pensieve for you. However, I am guessing that you don't know what that is?" Here she looked at him questioningly and he shook his head in the negative. She managed a small smile at just how puzzled he looked at the idea of pouring out memories to watch. "Therefore, it would probably be easier for me and more detailed for you if you just go directly to the source," she continued.

"Do you know how to send them to me or do I need to …" the Doctor started to ask but stopped as she started shaking her head.

"No, I never got to finish my training. I learned how to organize my thoughts and how to block and put up shields during those last two summers before I went on the run. However, that was as far as I got. I can't send my thoughts to anyone else or retrieve theirs, either - not yet, anyway."

I'm sure that I can teach her how to do those things. It is obvious that she already has a natural telepathic ability – or she wouldn't be able to communicate with the TARDIS the way that she does, he thought. Then it struck him with some surprise that he was thinking in terms of her staying with him here in the TARDIS. I decided not to take any more companions, though, he thought again. However, then he looked up at her, right into her beautiful brown eyes that were still bright with tears, and realized that he was not thinking of her in terms of being just a companion. That thought scared him, for many reasons, and he was almost relieved when her voice interrupted this dangerous train of thought.

"Doctor, is that okay? You don't have to do it. I just thought…"

"No, it is actually a very good idea. I was just…thinkin'…I want to make sure that you are sure. My people considered it quite an invasive action to go into someone's mind and see their personal thoughts without permission. Therefore, I should never have attempted to do it before. I want to apologize for that again." All of that was true, but what he did not tell her was that it was also considered to be a very intimate act by his people – an act utilized by mates and lovers, as well, as a way to interweave their mental and physical relationships.

"Don't worry about it, Doctor," she reassured him. "Those were extenuating circumstances. Plus, you just skimmed the surface. I could tell that you weren't really trying to enter. I overreacted, really, just like I did in the bedroom. I am the one who should apologize. However, I think that you will understand a bit better once you see my memories and see for yourself what actions those people are known for. You will then know why I acted the way that I did. I have to warn you, though, it won't be pretty! If you are in my memories, it will feel as if you are right there in the middle of it all."

"I have seen war firsthand before, Hermione," he admitted reluctantly.

"I know," she said softly and he quickly looked up at her in surprise. "I can see it in your eyes." She then reached up to cup his cheek as something passed between them in that moment of mutual understanding.