There must be something about my name that confuses people. Awhile back, one of my managers started calling me Erin, which is nowhere close to my name. Today, my publisher called me Maggie during a meeting. His was a bit closer. I had no idea he was talking to me though. My name is pretty simple. Phonetic. Five letters long. It shouldn't be that hard to remember.

Chapter 7
Hermione awoke to find Draco asleep beside her. His arm rested possessively around her waist and his legs tangled with her own. He snored softly as he slumbered. She attempted to extricate herself from his hold, but with each move she made, Draco managed to pull her closer. She huffed. "Even in your sleep you're an obnoxious prat," she muttered.

His hold on her tightened again, and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. "Stop moving," he demanded. "Just sleep."

She pried his fingers away from her bare stomach. "Some of us have to go to work this morning, Malfoy," she reminded him.

"Take the day off," he suggested, placing a trail of kisses down the length of her neck until he reached her shoulder.

She rolled over to face him, smiling despite herself when she saw his eyes were still closed. "We're breaking your rules, Malfoy," she pointed out.

"What rules?" he mumbled, kissing her slowly and softly.

She pulled away and scowled. "No sleeping over. No cuddling," she replied, counting them off on her fingers. "No having breakfast together. No sharing personal details and secrets. Basically, no doing anything a couple would do. Because we're not a couple."

Draco rolled over and climbed out of her bed. "If you want me to go, I'll go," he muttered as he pulled on his pants.

"No, please, Malfoy, don't go," she muttered sarcastically as she too got out of bed.

She had just finished tying the sash on her robe when Draco rounded the bed. "You wanted this too, Granger," he reminded her, glaring angrily at the blasé brunette. "You told me not to leave last night. You fell asleep on me. Yeah, sorry, so I fell asleep too. Is it really the end of the world?"

"They're your rules," she reiterated, though she had lost some of her steam.

"Which means I can change them," he retorted, just as angry as he was at the start of the argument.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow. "So, what? You want to be my boyfriend now?" she inquired.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger," he muttered. With every step he took closer to her, Hermione backed up. He placed his hands around her wrists, and guided her back to the bed. "I have no more interest in you now than I did when we were in school."

Draco hovered above her as Hermione's back hit the mattress. "Then why bother?" she wondered.

His lips attached to her jugular while his hands fumbled with the knot she had tied in the robe's sash. Instinctively, her arms wound around his neck to hold him closer. He pulled back as much as her arms would allow. "Because we don't have to like each other to know, on some level, that we're good together," he replied. Chaste kisses dotted his jaw as he spoke in a husky whisper. "We both enjoy what we're doing, even if you do try to deny it."

"I've yet to deny it," she interrupted.

He kissed her pouting lips and smiled. "You don't tell anyone about it," he replied. "That's the same as denying it. Are you worried what your friends might think if they found out you were shagging Draco Malfoy?"

One brown eyebrow rose. "Perhaps I'm more concerned that they'll kill you, and then our time together will end," she retorted. "Now, may I please get up? I really do have to go to work."

Sighing, Draco rolled over so he was no long on top of her. After retying her robe, Hermione stood and left for the bathroom. Alone, he surveyed her minimalist bedroom. The walls and ceiling had been painted white. The furniture was a dark oak color, which contrasted the light, honey-colored wood of the hardwood floors throughout her flat. The bedspread upon which he once more lay was blue and white gingham, which matched the curtains closed over the windows. A tall bookshelf and a pale blue armchair were placed near the window.

Slipping off the bed, Draco quietly made his way to the adjoining bathroom just as Hermione started the shower. She was already behind the curtain when he hopped up onto the vanity and examined the tube of raspberry lip gloss she always wore when she was with him. Beside it sat a tube of strawberry kiwi and an unopened tube of mixed berry. He opened the raspberry and sniffed. "This smells nothing like a raspberry," he stated, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he put it down.

A head of wet curls popped out from behind the shower curtain. "What are you doing in here?" she demanded.

Draco shrugged. "Thought you'd let me hop in there with you," he replied. "What's with all the different flavors?"

Rolling her eyes, she closed the curtain again and continued her shower. "I thought you'd have left by now," she commented.

"Why do you always wear the raspberry?" he asked, dabbing the gloss wand along his bottom lip. He knew it tasted better than it smelled, having kissed it from her lips several times.

The water turned off and Hermione pushed the curtain back. Making a grab for her towel, she wrapped it around herself and stared at him incredulously. "Why are you wearing my lip gloss?" she inquired, fighting back the urge to laugh.

Draco hopped off the counter and closed the small amount of distance between them. He pressed a closed mouth kiss to her smiling lips and pulled back. "It tastes better than it smells," he replied. "So, why do I only get the raspberry?"

Hermione shrugged and pulled more of the towel around herself as she shivered. "Ron was always the strawberry kiwi," she told him. "Viktor Krum, you remember him, right? He was always vanilla bean."

"So, you categorize the men in your life by flavors," he summarized, rubbing her wet arms to provide a little more warmth.

She shrugged and looked away from him. "Sometimes it's the only way I can categorize someone," she mumbled.

Reaching behind him, he picked up the mixed berry. "And who gets this one?" he inquired.

Hermione pulled away and left the bathroom. "Someone else," she replied as she began to dress.

"Is there someone else?" Draco asked, leaning against the bathroom's door frame.

She shook her head and quietly continued to dress. There should be someone else, she thought. Draco had someone else. He probably had several someone elses. One would do, though. It was just a matter of finding him.