After several hours of research, the Doctor still had not found any satisfactory answers to his questions. As he set the book that he had been reading to the side, he absentmindedly reached up to rub his bleary eyes. He realized with some surprise that he was even tired enough to sleep again. Normally, just two or three hours a night was more than enough for him and his Gallifreyan biology - and an occasional night of no sleep at all would not affect him in any adverse way whatsoever. However, the emotional events of the day must have taken their toll because he soon found himself headed for his own bed. He paused outside of Hermione's door (which was adjacent to his again) and asked the TARDIS how she was doing. He smiled as the ship sent him a picture of her sleeping peacefully and he was glad that she was not being troubled with bad dreams. He only hoped that he would be as lucky as he continued on to his room.

Unfortunately, he was not that lucky, after all. Apparently, viewing Hermione's battle from a firsthand point of view had brought his own wartime memories back up to the surface. As soon as he fell asleep, they waylaid him with the sights and sounds of the worst days of his considerably long life…and he was helpless to resist the screams that echoed in his head as fire scorched all of the ground, sky, and flesh around him.

Hermione awoke suddenly and could not immediately figure out why. Amazingly, she had not been having a nightmare for once. In fact, her dreams had been rather pleasant, although she could only vaguely remember that they had something to do with the Doctor. However, even though she was fully awake, she still felt unsettled and nervous for some reason. In fact, those feelings kept intensifying until she felt nothing but sheer terror and horror…despite the fact that she knew she was safe and sound in her bed. She did not understand what was happening and in her confusion, she reached out to the TARDIS for comfort and clarification. In return, she received an image of the Doctor while he was obviously wrapped up in the throes of an all-consuming nightmare.

Am I feeling what he is feeling? she asked the TARDIS and received a gentle affirmative from the ship. Oh, the poor man! I have to help him! Hermione thought vehemently as she jumped up and headed for her door. Once she had opened it, though, she stared at the one adjacent to hers with surprise – simply because she had not noticed it there before. Then she realized that the TARDIS must have moved the Doctor's room closer to hers so that she could reach him and comfort him more easily. Consequently, Hermione gingerly tried the handle on the new door and it opened up immediately to allow her access to a very simple but masculine room. She did not have the time to look around much, however, because she rushed over to the bed where the dreaming Doctor thrashed around with the force of his night terrors. She called out his name, but that did not seem to help and neither did the shake she gave him. Therefore, she did the only other thing that she could think of at the moment. She crawled into the bed behind him, wrapped her arm tightly around his chest, and then pressed her body against his back in order to give him as much comforting contact as possible.

Her presence seemed to do the trick because, after just a few seconds, he stilled. After another moment, his breath deepened and evened out, his double heartbeat slowed down, and she could tell that he had fallen into an easier slumber. She was quite pleased with her success, but then she debated whether she should climb out of his bed and go back to her own. Her physical exhaustion still would not allow her to do more than just think about such an action, however. Plus, she could not deny how comfortable it was to hold the man so closely in his bed. Therefore, since he was not in any position to give his opinion about the matter at any rate, she let herself slip back into a guilt-free sleep while her host slumbered in her arms.

The Doctor awoke the next morning with vague memories of his usual nightmare, but unusually sharp memories of a dream about Hermione. In the dream, she had come to his bed and comforted his nightmares away. He had felt so warm…and (Dare he even think it?) loved. He did not know exactly what to do with that information since he was just starting to realize the depth of his affection for the little witch. However, he was confident that it was okay to enjoy that closeness with her in his dreams – even if he could not have it in reality. In fact, he was still feeling the comfort that being in her dream arms provided.

The usually much more observant alien finally realized that he was not actually alone in his bed. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed that there was a decidedly feminine arm draped over his side and a warm soft body pressed up against his back. Could it really be…? He turned over as slowly as he could in order not to disturb her. He then watched in amazement as the still-sleeping Hermione frowned at the loss of the warmth of his body and snuggled closer to find it again. He allowed himself to wrap an arm around her and noticed how she sighed in contentment. He swallowed hard at the physical reaction this simple sound caused and wondered how she came to be in his bed in the first place. He ran his eyes over her serene sleeping face and smiled at her hair, still lively – even in repose. He realized that his dream must have really happened. She must have come to comfort him in the midst of his nightmare.

How did she even know? he wondered until the obvious answer came to him. Did you have something to do with this? he asked his ship and received the equivalent of a mental shrug in return. He sighed at the Old Girl's interference, but just closed his eyes again and tightened his grip on the young woman next to him. He had to admit that he was not entirely unhappy with the situation. He only hoped that Hermione would not be embarrassed or unhappy about it when she woke. Just then, a small movement under his arm caused his eyes to fly open again and gaze right into the liquid warmth of a pair of deep brown ones.

"Good morning," he said in a lighthearted tone designed to put her at ease. "I must say that this was an unexpected surprise." He watched as a gorgeously shy smile bloomed across her face at his words.

"Not an unpleasant one, though, I hope," she answered as she purposely snuggled closer to him. She threw her arm back over him, as well, and tucked her head under his chin.

"Not at all," he murmured, holding her as closely as he dared. He knew that it was not a good idea…that it was too much temptation. However, she felt wonderful in his arms and he just could not bring himself to pull away.

After just a moment of mutual appreciation for their situation, she smiled up at him, kissed his chin, and then reluctantly pulled herself out of his embrace. As he looked at her with a puzzled and admittedly disappointed expression, she shyly muttered "loo," and escaped to her own room to take care of her morning business.

The Doctor just grinned with understanding. Delicate little human, he thought to himself fondly since he knew his own biology was far easier to regulate and control. At that point, his smile faltered when he remembered that the two of them had some difficult decisions to make about what would and should happen in the immediate future – now that he had a better understanding of what had happened to the little human witch. Therefore, he decided to go ahead and get ready for his day, as well. He reluctantly moved out of the warmth of his bed and he could not help but to wonder if the opportunity would ever arise for Hermione to be in it with him again.