AN: Hi all. Not much response to the last chapter. I know FF had an issue with their bot that day, so hopefully everyone got a notification that it posted.

I'm excited about this chapter. :) Hopefully you all like it as much as I do. I know, my posting is erratic. I'd like to say that will change and I'll get back to a regular posting schedule, but the truth is it probably won't. I write when I have the chance, and I post as soon as I'm happy with the chapter and have a firm feel of where the next chapter will lead.

As always, thank you all for reading, favoriting, following, and reviewing. I write for myself. I post my stories for you guys to enjoy.

The Journal

Chapter Ten

Hermione stood on the porch. Her hands gripped the railing in front of her. A warm breeze surrounded her, pulling her brown curls behind her. The water in front of her lapped against a rocky shore. Birds could be heard singing in the distance. She took a deep breath and inhaled the clean, fresh air that can only be found far away from the city.

"I told you I would keep you safe." A velvety smooth voice stated from behind her. Her breath caught at the sound of his voice. Her heart rate increased as she felt him closing in on her.

"You never have to worry here." He stood directly behind her now. He placed his hands next to hers on the railing. She could feel him now, pressed against her, his chest rising and falling with every breath he took. The heat from each breath spread across her cheek.

"I think I have plenty to worry about here, actually." She managed to answer, but her voice was shaky and not at all convincing. "You are much more dangerous than I ever could have imagined."

Despite her protest, she found herself leaning into him, wanting…no…needing to touch him.

"Dangerous? Me? How so?" The smile now tugging at his lips was evident in his voice. He didn't believe her. He couldn't believe her when she was leaning into him, her head tilted to the side, baring her delicate neck to him. He took her invitation, dipping his head slowly and gently kissing the creamy white skin right below her ear.

She gasped aloud, but did not move away. Her eyes fluttered closed. She almost forgot to answer him.

"You are a distraction. A horrible, wonderful distraction."

He kissed her neck again, sucking the skin in gently and she moaned in pleasure. Electricity was shooting through her body, awakening every nerve ending. She had never felt anything like it. It was almost sensory overload and he had barely even touched her.

"Maybe a distraction is just what you need." His words were whispered against her skin.

She turned her head to look at him. Piercing gray eyes that were darkened with lust stared at her with such intensity that any willpower she had crumbled to dust. He searched her eyes, watching, waiting, willing her to agree. She nodded her head once, barely, almost imperceptively, but he had seen it nonetheless.

In a heartbeat his lips were covering hers, moving, tasting, devouring. She fell into the kiss, fell into him. And then she was falling…falling…falling…

Hermione woke with a gasp of air, her eyes flew open and her hand covered her rapidly beating heart. She stared into the darkness and willed her heart to slow back to normal.

"What the fuck was that?" She asked to the empty room. That, she decided, had been the most intense dream she had ever had. She could still feel his arms around her, could still smell the clean lemon grass scent surrounding her, covering her, embracing her.

She rolled to a sitting position on the edge of the unfamiliar bed. Enough moonlight was shining through the curtains to show her that she was truly alone in the room. She flipped on the bedside lamp and scanned the room quickly. She was still fully clothed, and had been sleeping on top of the pale green bedspread. Her right hand went to her boot where she found her wand, exactly where she had stored it. In her left boot she found her beaded bag, full of all of the possessions she had packed before leaving her flat.

Slowly the events that had led her to this place returned to her memory. Ron's attack, leaving her flat, asking Malfoy and Zabini for help, breaking down in front of them. Oh Merlin, had she really cried like that in front of Draco Malfoy? Had he really held her until the tears had stopped and she could breathe normally again?

What had happened then? She remembered sitting down and drinking a cup of tea that Zabini had handed her. Then…nothing.

A calming draught. They had given her a calming draught and put her to sleep. She huffed once at this, but then realized that she didn't blame them at all. She had freaked out more than a little on them.

The clock on the bedside table showed it to be 5:22 AM. She had been out for nearly fifteen hours. She stood up and stretched her muscles. Aside from her eyes being sore and her head aching from crying so hard, she felt pretty good. That was the best sleep she'd had in ages.

The room, which she assumed was a guest bedroom, was decorated in pale green and white with some dark green accents. The walls were pale green to match the bedspread. The trim and the draperies were dark green. The bed, the dresser, the dressing table, and the bedside table were all white. There was a painting on the wall over the bed of a beautiful forest scene. A small smile pulled at her lips for a moment as she realized the painting wasn't moving.

There was a door to the right of the bed that led to a large walk-in closet. The closet was empty. The next door was an en-suite bathroom that was bigger than the bedroom in her flat. One long look at the bathtub had her pulling her clothes off and sinking into a vat of steaming hot water filled with lavender scented bubbles. She soaked in the tub for a long time, only emerging once the water had cooled and the bubbles had nearly all disappeared. She left the tub and stepped into the shower, washing away the soap residue and washing and conditioning her hair. The towels she found were large and fluffy and luxurious, and of course, they were green. She wrapped one around her body and wrapped another around her hair.

She dug around in her beaded bag until she found a pair of jeans and a long sleeved green v-neck pullover. It seemed fitting, what with sleeping in a green room in a Slytherin's house and all. As she combed through her thick hair, her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before.

She pulled on a pair of thick black socks and the clothes she had picked out, picked her wand up off the bedspread, and opened the last door in the room. She stepped out into a hallway and tried to get her bearings. The hallway went off in both directions. To her right she could see a door on the other side of the hallway, and further down a staircase. To her left she saw a door on each side of the hallway, and a large bay window at the end. She was curious as to what lay beyond each of these doors, but now wasn't the time to be exploring Draco Malfoy's house. She turned to the right and padded softly towards the stairs.

Once downstairs she easily found the kitchen. There weren't many food options available, but she was able to find a few eggs, a package of bacon and a half a loaf of nearly stale bread. She smiled to herself as she realized the choices weren't much different than what she would find in her own kitchen. She set about frying the bacon and eggs and prepared two plates of food.

She was just setting them down on the small kitchen table when a noise behind her startled her. She spun around quickly, wand in hand. She found herself face to face with Malfoy. He was wearing black and gray sleep pants and a black t-shirt. His hair was disheveled as though he had just gotten out of bed. And his wand was pointed straight at her.

They stood there, facing off with wands drawn for a long minute.

Draco lowered his wand first. Reluctantly she lowered hers as well.

"Sorry. I heard someone moving around down here. I'm used to being alone here." He ran his hand through his hair. She tried not to laugh when he pulled his hand away and the hair remained standing straight up in spots.

"And you thought an intruder broke in to make you breakfast?" She motioned to the plates on the table.

"You never know. Stranger things could happen." He smirked. She laughed.

Draco got two glasses out of the cabinet and poured them each some orange juice before joining her at the table.

"Did you sleep well?"

She looked into his eyes. Merlin he had beautiful eyes. Instantly she was thrown back into her dream, looking into those eyes, feeling him against her, touching her, holding her, kissing her. She looked away quickly, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks, and hoping he hadn't noticed it.

"I did. I think Zabini overdid it on the calming draught, though."

"Yeah," he laughed. "I told him that when you passed out on the table."

They both chuckled at that. Draco was surprised she wasn't angry about it, but she really wasn't. They didn't talk while they ate, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Not until they had both finished eating and had pushed the empty plates away. Then the silence became heavy with unasked questions, unspoken words.

"Did you watch the memory?" Hermione broke the silence first.

"I did." His fingers tightened around his glass.

"He thinks we're sleeping together." She still didn't look at him.

"He's an idiot."

She looked up from her juice glass then. Her brown eyes met his and he could see the irritation she was feeling in them. Her eyes were so expressive. He felt he could read every mood she had in those chocolate brown orbs.

"He's an asshole, but he isn't stupid. Don't underestimate him, Malfoy. The bumbling fool thing is just an act. He's coming after me. I know it. And as soon as he sees your name on that report, he's going to know exactly where to look."

"He's not going to find you here." He leaned forward in his chair and placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently. "No one knows about this place. It's unplottable. You are safe here."

She looked at his hand over her own. The warm tingles were back.

"Maybe I am. But are you safe out there?" She kept her eyes on their hands and didn't move. "If he goes after you, it will be because of me."

"If he comes after me, I'll deal with it. If it puts your mind at ease, my name isn't on the report."

Her eyes snapped to his again and she visibly relaxed.

"It's not?" The relief was evident in her voice. He wasn't sure whether to be glad that he had gotten her to relax a little, or upset that she didn't want him working on her case.

"Blaise thought it would be a conflict of interest. He filed the report by himself last night." He didn't mention that Blaise also thought they were sleeping together. Or that after they had watched her memory his friend had to magically restrain him from hunting down the Weasel and torturing the rodent to death.

"Good." A ghost of a smile flirted with her lips before it fell away.

"Good? Damn it, Granger! You came to me for help!" His hand smacked against the table as he stood. "I should have gone with him."

"Are you not helping me?" She stood as well, facing off with him over the table. "You are providing me with safety and security. I don't give a damn about that report. Let Blaise deal with Ron. I don't need you to go fight for my honor or something."

"He hit you because of me. It's my duty to fight for your honor."

The last of his words echoed in the otherwise empty kitchen.

"He hit me because somehow he's turned into a possessive jackass. I think he took for granted that I would just always be there or something, that I would never get tired of his bullshit. He thought I would put up with it forever just so I wouldn't be alone. Maybe when he saw us together that day in the cafeteria, maybe he realized that I could have other options. And if I had other options, would I stay with him? Then I go and break up with him on the same day. It had nothing to do with you, of course. I broke up with him for a myriad of different reasons. Things that had been building for a long time, but I kept putting it off. I just couldn't see myself putting it off any longer. But don't you see? He's latched on to you as the reason, but it isn't your fault. Not really."

Sometime during her speech she had stepped away from the table. Now she was standing directly in front of him, looking into his eyes. Merlin she could get lost in those eyes.

"Why did you come to me? If you wanted Zabini to file the report, what did you want from me?" She was close enough that he could touch her if he wanted to. He had held her the night before and now his arms itched to hold her again. It was torture having her right there in front of him and not being able to touch her.

"I wanted this." She pushed her curls back behind her ear before motioning to the room around them. "I needed someplace safe where I can work without looking over my shoulder. I can't live my life on the run right now. I just can't. I don't have the time for that."

"Again with work? Is that all you ever think about?" He rolled his eyes and turned away from her. He needed a little distance. She was much too close to him. "Your ex-boyfriend assaulted you in your own home, Hermione! I think its okay to take a break, don't you?"

"No, I don't." The irritation in her voice was evident. "I get that no one else understands how important this is. Everyone just thinks I am obsessed or just really anti-social or something. If I don't find the ingredient I need in the next few days, it will be too late. I thought you of all people would understand how important this is!"

Her eyes widened and her hand slapped over her own mouth. She certainly had not meant to say that!

His heart plummeted as he watched her reaction and he replayed her words over in his mind. Why would he understand how important her work was? He didn't even know what she was working on. It was classified, she had told him that herself. What could she be working on?

His mouth suddenly went dry as he understood.

"What are you working on?" His words were barely whispered. His fingers gripped the back of the chair in front of him. It couldn't be. They told him there was no cure. They told him there was no hope.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy." Her hands were shaking as she stepped closer to him. "You weren't supposed to know. No one is supposed to know. Not until it was finished. We didn't want to give false hope."

She put her knee on the chair in front of him and placed her hands over top of his. She tried to make eye contact with him, but his eyes were glassed over. He was staring at nothing right in front of him, waiting for her to confirm what he already knew.

"Tell me, Granger." His eyes suddenly focused on hers, bore into hers, searching them for confirmation.

"My assignment is to find a cure for PCS."

His eyes closed and he released a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

"I'm close, Draco. I'm so close. One more ingredient, that's all I need. Once I find it I can work on the arithmancy and develop the formula." She slid her hands around his waist and laid her head against his chest, needing to comfort him in that moment the same way he had comforted her the night before. His scent was already so familiar to her. She inhaled it, savored it.

Slowly he released his grip on the chair and spread his hands across her back.

"You're trying to save my mother." His words were barely whispered as he stood still, staring at the wall, trying to comprehend how this woman could devote her life to saving people she didn't know, people that had fought against her in the war.

"Among other people, yes."

He held on to her for several minutes, rubbing small circles on her back with his thumbs and contemplating the amazing woman in his arms.

His mother was dying. He had known that for years. When she had been diagnosed two years earlier she had been in stage two PCS. He would never forget that day, not as long as he lived. The words terminal and incurable were used a lot that day. He remembered thinking that everything he had done during the war, all of the things he had been forced to do – trying to kill Dumbledore, cursing Katie Bell, poisoning the Weasel, taking the Dark Mark – he had done all of those things for absolutely nothing.

Stage 2 was tremors and headaches, symptoms that could be controlled or ignored. It was easy during that stage to forget that she was terminally ill. It had been easy to forget that she had an expiration date.

Stage 3 was hell. Seizures, headaches, vomiting, and spells where she would fall asleep sporadically. She couldn't go out in public anymore; for fear that she would have a seizure or fall asleep at an inopportune time. Someone had to be with her constantly. Whenever he wasn't at work he had been by her side. The spells had come more and more frequently, until she had fallen asleep and not woken up.

Stage 4. She was sleeping now, peacefully. But once it ran its course, she would die. She would never wake up again. He had come to terms with it a long time ago. He had to. He hadn't had a choice.

What would he give to speak to his mother again? To see her walking in her gardens one more time? To have her by his side when he finally got married? To have her there when his first child was born?

His eyes prickled but he refused to cry. He was a Malfoy. Malfoy men do not cry. He took a long shuddering breath, held Hermione a little bit tighter, and pressed his lips against her forehead.

"Come with me." He released his hold on her, only to take her hand in his and pull her towards the door. She followed behind him without question, curious about what was going through his mind and where he was taking her.

He led her back upstairs and down the hall. He pointed to the first door on the right and quickly said "My bedroom." A few steps later they walked past the bedroom that she had emerged from earlier and he said "your bedroom." They continued towards the bay window. She had wondered what the two doors were on this end of the hallway. He stopped at the one on the left and swung the door open. He stepped through first and switched the light on.

She smiled to herself as she stepped into the library. Floor to ceiling books on every wall, along with several bookcases in the middle of the room were a welcome sight to her. She inhaled deeply, smelling the leather and parchment. There were two large tables with heavy wooden chairs sitting on either side of them.

She ran her fingers gently over the book bindings closest to her. She would love to have a library like this in her own home. He let her peruse the library for several long minutes. He watched her eyes light up and a smile tug at her lips as she wandered aimlessly around the room. She would get lost in that room and never emerge if he let her.

"You're welcome to read any of the books in here. It's quite an extensive collection." He took her hand again and pulled her gently towards the door. "This room might be a little too distracting for you. Maybe you should do your work over here instead?"

He led her to the door across the hall and opened it.

"Oh Merlin!" She gasped as she stepped into the largest potions lab she'd seen outside of Hogwarts. This room put her own lab at the Ministry to shame. Rows of empty tables. Scores of empty cauldrons. Shelves of potion ingredients. An entire bookcase filled with potion reference books and formulas. Immediately her eyes started to scan his book collection. Most of them she had read, but there were a few she hadn't gotten to yet.

"This is what you needed, right? Someplace safe and secure where you can do your research?" He leaned against one of the empty tables and watched her as she moved through the room. At one point in time this had been his favorite room in the house. He had spent countless hours in here studying for his potions master exams. That was before. He hadn't stepped foot in this room since the day his mother had received her diagnosis.

"This is perfect. I think you've screwed up, though, Malfoy." She smiled as she made her way back across the room to where he was standing. She stood next to him; leaning up against the same table he was leaning against, and mirrored his stance.

"I'm going to regret asking this, but please tell me. How have I screwed up, Granger?" He sighed and rolled his eyes, sure she was going to tell him there was something wrong with his lab. That he had set it up wrong, or the ingredients weren't stored in the right order, or something else equally as annoying. The first time Blaise had seen his lab, he had done the same thing. Set about telling Draco all the ways the room could be better.

"Because when all of this is over, you're never going to get rid of me. I'm in love with your house, Malfoy. I don't think I'll ever leave it." She said the words solemnly, as though she regretted every one of them. When he looked at her, he could see the glint of humor in her eye, the small smirk on her lips. She was leaning against the table, her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was wild and curly once again, the way it should be.

He didn't answer her, he simply smirked at her. He wasn't sure how to say that he never wanted her to leave. At least, he didn't know how to say it without sounding like a creeper, and she already had one to many of those.

Abruptly she moved away from the table and left the room without another word. Draco watched her leave and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if he had done something wrong. Maybe she had been expecting him to respond to her joke? When he didn't, she must have taken it the wrong way? He sighed. He would never understand women.

He turned to go after her. As he did, though, he almost walked right into her as she made her way back into the lab. She had a small beaded bag in her hand that he didn't remember seeing before. Curious, he watched as she sat down at a table and opened the small bag. She pulled several books, notebooks and binders out of the bag and put them on the table in front of her. When she opened the first book and started reading, he knew that she had already gotten lost in her research. She had probably forgotten he was even there.

He left her there, reading a rather large book on obscure potion ingredients. As he took his shower and readied himself for the day, he couldn't help but picture her tenaciously trying to solve a problem that everyone else had just given up on. Even if she didn't find the solution in time to save his mother, there were others out there. Due to client confidentiality, he didn't know who they were, but he did know there were others. And he knew that as long as even one person was still suffering from the effects of PCS, Granger would keep looking. She would keep researching. She would scour every part of the Earth to find what she was looking for.

And maybe, just maybe, she would give his mother a second chance at life in the process.

AN: See? I love this chapter. One of my favorite so far. What do you guys think?

I will be camping for the next four days. Completely off the grid. No FF. No email. No Facebook. Also, no work, which I am very much looking forward to after the week I've had! Anyway, it would be wonderful to come back on Sunday and open my email and find 100 new reviews in my inbox. :)

Now that you've finished reading this update, I have a rec for you. I found this little gem this morning and I couldn't stop reading. It's called "Unexpected" and you can find the link on my favorites page.

Have a great weekend, and thanks again for reading.

-mezy