The Gryffindor Common Room was empty besides the frizzy-haired girl who was collapsed in a sturdy chair. Hermione's back was aching from having been arched over her papers for hours on end. She didn't bother checking the clock, for she knew the inevitably late time would probably push her limbs to drag her to bed.

Hermione wasn't going to sleep. Who needed sleep anyway? She could probably go days without sleep. She'd done it before. Right now, she needed to make sure she wasn't going to fail.

Fail. Her stone fingers halted their frantic writing for just a second. She looked again at the enormous pile of assignments, books, and charts that were spread across the table and hanging on the walls. Not to mention the tests she needed to study for…

Alright, so perhaps taking more classes than everyone else in third year wasn't the best idea. But there was no way she could give up on it now. How would it feel to hand the Time Turner back to Professor McGonagall and say she couldn't do it. They'd entrusted her with this special task that so few students would ever get. They thought she was responsible enough. To give that back would be to fail.

But to keep it would also mean failing. She just needed to make sure she didn't fail. She needed top marks, and if that meant sacrificing sleep, then so be it.

Oh for-Here she was, wasting time by leaning back in her chair and thinking instead of working! Those Arithmancy charts weren't going to fill themselves out!

Hermione fell into concentration again, furrowing her eyebrows and wishing her numbing fingers would stop complaining and start working. Oh, her handwriting on this essay was so sloppy! She wouldn't lose anything for that, right? Wait, what number went here? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…

She didn't even hear the thumping coming from the staircase behind her as she recited her numbers and wait, those were Runes. How did she not notice? What was she-

"Hermione?"

Somehow, it did not surprise her who it was.

"What?" she snapped. There it was, Ron Weasley always coming in to interrupt her just as she was coming close to a breakthrough. Why couldn't he just understand that she had more important things to do?

"Why are you down here so late?"

"I could ask you the same question." These were practically scribbled on her paper, even she couldn't read them! She was going to have to erase it and start again…

"If you must know, I wanted to check on you."

"Well thank you," she said insincerely, barely listening. "But I really need to work-"

"You've been working all day."

That was true. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't come back from classes and immediately fell into a chair to study. "I know, now I need to keep doing so-"

"Take a break."

The idea was so mad, it felt like a prediction by Professor Trelawney. Take a break. Ha. How could she take a break when she had so much to do? That was just asking for failure.

"I am almost done," she said, halfheartedly waving him off. There was no way Ron would leave if she just told him no, but maybe he would now.

She definitely underestimated him.

"You need to go to sleep," Ron urged. "It's really late. You're supposed to be the one telling me to go to bed."

A slight smile began to form on her face, but she quickly erased it. "I'll be there in just a minute."

"Hermione-" Ron groaned. "That's a lie and we both know it."

Alright, so it was a complete lie. "Listen, I've got so much on my plate, alright? I don't have time to do anything as unproductive as sleeping-"

"Since when is sleeping unproductive?" Ron hissed, his voice rising in volume. "Since when is caring for yourself unproductive? How are you going to get anything done if you're stumbling around, running on practically nothing-"

"I don't stumble, Ronald-" Hermione said shrilly, ignoring that she stubbed her toe last week when she was so exhausted she ended up slamming her foot. How dare he try and make a fool of her? She whirled around to face him. His red hair was ruffled and his eyes were burning.

"Oh really? You think we don't see you in the corner of the common room not looking at anyone? And yelling if someone so much as talks to you?"

"You're the one who started this!" she cried fiercely. "I have more important things to be worrying about!"

"So you're saying that you aren't important?" he asked. He was panting, splotches of red on his face. "Hermione, look at yourself."

And for the first time in weeks, Hermione did just that. She didn't need a mirror to tell her how she was looking at the moment. All she needed was to temporarily silence the chattering voices in her mind and just feel. Feel the strands of hair in her face, even curlier than usual from having no time to be taken care of. Feel how heavy her eyelids felt, constantly creeping over her eyes. No doubt they were darker now. Feel her fingers which were practically turning purple from constantly being used to write with no stopping. The stains of ink on her clothes that she hadn't bothered to clean up. The way her mind seemed to be fraying from how constantly she used it for things it didn't need. Her stomach was roaring for energy. Her legs were wobbling and craving a bed. Her entire body and her entire brain had been worn out beyond functionality.

She set her quivering eyes upon Ron. He had softened as he looked at her. "I'm worried about you, Hermione," he whispered. "This isn't healthy. I can't stand to watch you do this to yourself. Please take a break."

"I don't want to fail." Her voice cracked.

"Taking one break won't make you fail. And even if you do, what about yourself? I don't know about you, but I think you matter much more than your homework assignments."

She closed her eyes, struggling to ground herself as she felt dizzy from all the hours of sleep she'd missed. "Alright…maybe just one break."

Ron's face broke into an adorable grin. "Fantastic. Before anything, I brought you some food. The snacks are good, although the actual meals are cold by now-"

"Food?" Hermione squeaked.

"Well, yes. Don't think nobody can see you studying instead of eating in the Great Hall. So I got some extra food for you, because we're not like those lucky Hufflepuffs that sneak out into the kitchens every night and have a party. Come on, sit down."

Hermione didn't even need him to tell her to sit in an armchair. She was already tired of the other one. As she sunk into it, her skin relished the feeling of soft comfort. How had she gone so long without this?

Ron plopped into the armchair beside her and brought out the food, which Hermione consumed rather quickly. It was one of the only times she was able to eat faster than Ron. Her stomach leaped for joy, holding on to every last crumb.

"Well, that was fast." He shook his head, still smiling. "See? Isn't food nice?"

"Better than nice." She stared up at the ceiling. "Well, I suppose I should-"

"Hermione, do you really want to get back to work?"

"…I mean…"

"Exactly. How about we play some chess instead?"

"Totally barbaric," she rolled her eyes. And yet she found herself facing Ron and still jumping slightly as his pieces went on the attack. It didn't take long for him to win and throw a fist in the air.

"Yes!"

"Congratulations, Ronald."

"How about we play again?"

The pile of assignments called out to her, yet Hermione didn't even spare them a glance. Playing chess again was well worth it for one day, if only to see how elated Ron to actually be hanging out with her again.

Two games of chess, one friendly debate, and at least eighteen jokes later, Hermione and Ron were both collapsed in armchairs beside each other. The beaming expression on Hermione's face had been foreign at first, since she was so used to holding a frown or a frustrated scowl, but now it felt like it belonged there.

"Now, wasn't that fun?"

"Fun," she observed. "Not in my vocabulary."

"Not possible. I thought you knew every word in the world."

"I did too." She leaned forward and let herself stretch. "Now, I should really…" She was cut off when her back nearly yanked her back into the armchair. "I should really…" Her eyelids were tuckered out and she found herself squinting. "Really…" And then they were completely closed.

Behind her, Ron Weasley was patting himself on the back for having gotten Hermione Granger to take a break and get some sleep. As he victoriously stood up, he stopped and looked at her. His face melted into a tender smile as he saw that as Hermione closed her eyes and dreamt, she looked more peaceful than she had looked in weeks.

Did anyone catch the Hamilton references? Maybe not. Oh well, thanks for reading! Please leave a review!