I'm procrastinating. Is anyone shocked? My performance review is coming up, and I hate doing the self-appraisal portion of it. I've actually been doing math-related tasks to put off writing my review. That's how much I don't want to do it.

Chapter 5
Come over. DM

Hermione smirked when she read the note. She wasn't some one off bimbo he never planned to see again. What was more, it was Draco who asked for round two. His owl, a small, gray bird with amber eyes, waited patiently on her windowsill for a reply. She quickly scribbled an answer beneath his message, and sent the bird off into the night. Scurrying off to the bathroom, she freshened up and applied a hint of raspberry lip gloss. She grabbed her wand, slipped on a comfortable pair of shoes, and flooed to Draco's penthouse.

She arrived just as his owl returned. Draco greeted her at the fireplace with a kiss that quickly escalated. Her arms wound around his neck as Draco held tightly to her waist. Without breaking contact with her lips, he hoisted her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. With one hand, she worked open the buttons on his shirt as Draco carried her to his bedroom.

"How was your day?" he murmured as she kissed his neck. They crashed onto the bed, Draco landing atop Hermione. "Sorry," he whispered as she laughed.

"It's fine," she replied before attacking his lips once more. Soon their clothes were haphazardly strewn about the room and they were nestled beneath the thick blankets of his bed.

An hour later, the blankets tossed from the bed, Hermione and Draco lay atop the fitted sheet. They lay side by side, sweaty and breathing laboriously. "You never...answered my question," he said between deep breaths.

"What question?" she asked, staring up at the ceiling as she blinked tiredly.

"When you came in, I asked how your day was," he replied.

"Oh," she murmured. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She began to collect her clothing when she said, "I thought it was rhetorical."

Draco sat up and watched her nude form as she hunted for her pants. "Why would that be rhetorical?" he wondered. "Under the chair," he added when he spotted her jeans near his desk.

"It was fine," she replied nonchalantly as she redressed. When she turned back to face him, a blond eyebrow was raised. He didn't believe her. "I got a letter from Ron."

He smirked. "And?" he prodded.

She shrugged. "We're having dinner tomorrow night," she replied.

Draco nodded. "Think the two of you will get back together?" he inquired. "That's what you wanted, right? Make him jealous enough to come crawling back to you."

Hermione thought she heard just a hint of bitterness in his cool, detached tone, but ignored it. There was no way he cared about her enough to be upset that she might reconcile with Ron. There was no way he cared about her at all, she decided. "I'm not getting back together with Ron," she told him adamantly.

Draco climbed out of bed and wound his arms around her waist. Even fully dressed, Hermione could feel the warmth of his skin as he pressed against her back. "Then what are you doing with me?" he whispered, his hot breath on her ear sending a shiver down her spine.

She turned in his arms, and with a saucy smile on her lips, replied, "Having fun."

Ron was late. Ron was always late. Hermione watched the front door of The Leaky Cauldron, Ron's suggested meeting place, waiting for him to arrive. She studied a menu she had memorized long ago. Tossing it aside, she took to looking around the room. Tom stood behind the bar wiping glasses with a wet rag. A couple in the back corner stared longingly into each other's eyes before snogging. A young woman sat at the bar with a book in hand and a glass of white wine in front of her that she never touched.

It was this girl Hermione focused on. She noticed, as she continued to watch her, that she would occasionally glance towards the door quite like Hermione had been doing. She wondered what book she read, who she was meeting, whether she actually absorbed the words on the page or if the book was merely a tool for distraction. Lost in thought, Hermione hadn't noticed that she was no longer alone.

"Who are you staring at?" Ron asked.

Hermione jumped. "You're late," she replied.

A deep blush rose from Ron's neck to his hairline. "Yeah, sorry," he murmured. "I was, uh, helping George out at the shop. Time flies when you're a test subject."

Never one for small talk, Hermione folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" she inquired.

"I've met someone," he told her, his smile matching the exuberant tone of his voice.

"Good for you," she replied, hoping that even the slightest trace of happiness came across in her words. "Who?"

If it were possible, Ron's blush deepened to an even brighter shade of red. "Astoria Greengrass," he replied. He said her name so dreamily that Hermione considered making sure he wasn't under a spell. She checked his pupils as best she could in the dim lighting. They seemed normal. As she studied him, Ron kept talking. "You should meet her."

"What?" she exclaimed, ending her examination. There had been so much that she hadn't heard, but that - you should meet her - definitely penetrated her brain.

"Ron, what? No, you can't possibly expect me to do that," she scoffed. "I have no desire to meet her. Look, I'm happy that you've found someone. Really, I am. I'm sure she's lovely and wonderful and just...so right for you. But I have absolutely no interest in meeting her."

Ron reached across the table and took her hand as she tried to leave. "I don't understand why you're reacting like this, Mione," he said, crestfallen by his best friend's angry response. "Ginny said you've moved on too. I thought, if the both of us had someone new, that things could go back to the way they were. I've missed you."

She pulled her hand away. "I've got to go," she muttered.

On her way out, she spotted the blonde at the bar who had been reading before Ron came in. The book was gone now, and next to her sat Draco Malfoy.