A/N This is my first fanfic ever. Tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Burning The Midnight Oil

Hermione glanced up from the enormous book that she was reading to investigate the source of the loud noise that interrupted her precious hours of study. Looking up to find Fred and George up to their usual mischief again, she huffed before getting up to look for a more secluded spot to study.

The girls' dormitory was out of question as Parvati and Lavendar were hosting a slumber party that included large amounts of desserts snitched especially for the purpose of celebrating Lavendar's successful attempt at conjuring up a Patronus. She was one of the first ones in the DA to manage doing so and both the girls were beside themselves with joy. If Hermoine dared set foot in that room, she was sure that she would be caught, tied up and regaled with tale after tale of who was snogging who while simultaneously being not-so-subtly interrogated about what she was doing about what was occurring between herself and Harry (Ron was not worth consideration) and when were they officially going to start going out.

Now Hermione couldn't possibly deny any such ties with Harry without revealing the fact that his little crush on Cho was bigger than three Hungarian Horntails combined or the fact that she could very well publish a romance – under a pen name of course, she couldn't ruin her hard earned reputation could she? - simply by copying a few of the letters she and Viktor wrote to one another, frequently earning odd looks from their friends, him more than her. It was weird to see a world famous Quidditch player slaving away at homework.

Sighing, she picked up her books and made her way to Harry who was dozing lightly on an armchair by the fire. "Lend me the map Harry" she said, shaking him awake, "I want to go to the library to check upon some information on the Goblin Rebellions"

"Huh?" was his intelligent response when he was jolted back to the land of the living.

"Give me the map please, Harry. I want to go to the library to check upon some information on the Goblin Rebellions" Hermione repeated patiently.

Harry complied without saying a word but with a look that seemed to scream 'I simply cannot comprehend the need to study on a Saturday night'

Hermione being fluent in Harry-and-Ron-ese understood this without articulation and proceeded to give him a long-suffering sigh. "I just don't want to leave any thing pending for tomorrow. Why wait when you can finish it off today?"

"But..."

"Just give me the map." She said in a tone that left no room for arguments.

Harry silently handed the map to her and she smiled, "Good, now go back to sleep."

"No" he stretched, "Since I am awake, I might as well play a game of chess. Oi Ron! Want to play chess?" he bellowed across the room.

Ron who was trying to complete an essay assigned to them by Snape looked up. Hermione could see that he looked totally lost without her help. The hopeful look thrown in her direction before he nodded in assent to Harry was a clear indication of his levels of practice in finishing his homework unaided.

Sighing gustily before picking up her quills and parchment, she stuffed them into a bag and left the Gryffindor common room and headed in the direction of the library, both eyes in the map. Hermione did not even need to look up to see where she was heading. She could walk from the Gryffindor tower to the library and back blindfolded. Unfortunately it wasn't the day (or night) of her angels and so she bumped into suit of armor noisily. Cursing she got up and ducked behind a tapestry to hide from any fellow late night wanderers or teachers patrolling the corridors.

Reaching the library she pulled out the large book she had been referring to earlier that day and opened the page she had marked.

"Bliss" she sighed as she picked up the quill and began to write.

"Checkmate" Ron finished triumphantly. For what was the third time that evening. "where is Hermione anyway?"

"She went to the library to finish Binns' essay" Harry replied, resetting the board.

"Professor Binns assigned us an essay?" Ron looked horrified. "What about you? Have you completed it?" he eyed him suspiciously.

"No. Not really but I found an essay in my trunk that seemed to fit the requirements so I am submitting that in." Harry shrugged, "Anyway I did do the homework so technically this isn't cheating"

Ron found that he could not argue with that wonderful logic (Wonderful to him anyway. Hermione would have burnt that old essay and ordered him to write it afresh.) so he said, "Seeing that you have finished your work help me with mine"

Harry agreed and they both got to work.

Ever since Umbridge had taken the post of High Inquisitor, rumors had been flying that she had a sixth sense that enabled her to detect students engaged in wrongdoing that rivaled the powers of Filch and Mrs. Norris in that department any given day. So when Hermione glanced at the map she had ignored in favor of more valuable troves of information, she was not very shocked to see Umbridge strolling down the corridor of the library.

Very nearly cursing under her breath, she almost lovingly replaced the volume she was reading in a haphazard pile, gathered all her parchment and quills and tried to figure out a way out of the library that did not involve Umbridge in any manner.

The answer presented itself in the form of a secret passage that led to somewhere she couldn't decipher and she didn't bother standing around trying to find out. Getting out of the library was top priority so she ran to the articular bookshelf , pushed the sliding panel and the bookshelf moved away to reveal a smooth staircase leading upwards.

Had Harry and Ron been told that Hermione Granger would actually be running out of the library one day, they would have laughed at that person before telling them to go to the Hospital wing to have their eyes checked. Hermione never exited from the library willingly even though she was always one of the first ones to enter. Madam Pince always had to throw her out in the evenings when Harry, Ron, Ginny or one of her friends did not or could not forcibly drag her out.

Darting a quick look around to see whether or not every thing was as she had left it, she hastily climbed the twisting staircase but not before firing a hasty Jelly -Legs Jinx in Umbridge's general direction, hoping and praying that it hit.

Climbing down anther set of stairs and making her way through a maze of tunnels, she reached a statue that marked the exit to her claustrophobic escape route.

Checking the map again, she realized that she had entered the kitchens than the one they had used in their previous year. 'The elves won't be too Happy to see me' she thought 'Well better them than Umbridge' she silently resolved. Taking a deep breath, wand ready in hand, she pushed the statue gently aside and entered the kitchens.

Harry groaned. Ron had beaten him in another game of chess currently bringing the evening's (or late night's) score to four-two. Even after nearly falling asleep while completing the homework Professor Binns had assigned them Ron was still coherent enough to give him a sound thrashing in the one of the very few things in which his skills surpassed Harry's.

"Hmmm..." Ron hummed, glancing around the common room then at the watch, "D'you think that we should go look for Hermione? It's nearly midnight."

"Nah", Harry said after a pause. "She can take care of herself. She's Hermione"

Abruptly, the activity of the elves in the vicinity of the statue stopped. Great glassy orbs turned in her direction and placed their unflinching stares on her. Confusion was visible in their eyes before looks of recognition dawned.

"You is not welcome here, Miss"one elf squeaked and before she could scream bloody murder, he had launched the egg he was holding in his hand straight at her head.

Whether he had been expecting her to duck and altering his trajectory to adjust to her movements or that he simply bad aim, Hermione would never know, but when she ducked, the egg splattered squarely on her head.

Insert shocked silence.

The elves stared at the two of them in a sick sort of fascination. The offender was eying the oven, probably calculating the punishment he had to inflict upon himself before the victim realized what was going through the elf's mind.

Even if she was clearly the offended party, she could not find enough reasons to let the poor elf undergo tortures of any sort. Mustering what she felt was a soothing tone of voice, she assured him that she was not at all angry.

"In fact," she had informed him brightly, "Egg is an excellent conditioner. I read it in Witch Weekly. No need to punish yourself." she said kindly. And then turned tail and fled, gathering her remaining shards of dignity.

Next stop, Prefect Bathrooms.

Hermione almost sighed with pleasure when she came out into the corridor that led to the Prefect bathrooms. Unfortunately they were a way off and she had to reach them by ducking into shadows and hiding in crevices.

At one point, Peeves flew by the tapestry she was hiding behind, singing rude songs. Stopping by her tapestry he cackled, "Ooooo. I smell eggs. Dobby, is that you? Or is it a student out of bed?" She stiffened at that, not even breathing. But he soon went away as suddenly as he had come, imagining scenarios wherein suits of armor had suddenly developed a taste for eggs in the middle of the night.

She made it the rest of the way without incident and whispered the password under her breath. The door opened without any noise and the Gryffindor prefect stepped in. Breathing in the delicious smells of the perfumed shampoos and soaps wafting her way, she grinned.

Whenever in the mornings she went to take a shower (she was a strict showerer, never indulging in baths) it was too crowded to enjoy the experience properly. Now she planned o take her time and enjoy her bath to the fullest.

Tucking in her bag in the driest corner she could find, she stripped quickly and stepped into the shower stall nearest to her. Working up a rich lather with the shampoo, she allowed herself a rare moment of relaxation.

As it had been repeatedly proved that night, Fate had no intention of letting Hermione spend some time by herself in peace. She washed away ten minutes of hard work when she heard an annoying nasal twang that preceded Moaning Myrtle wherever she went. She wasn't too surprised about her sudden appearance though. Myrle had an affinity for bathrooms. Hadn't the girl/ghost appeared to harass Harry in this very same bathroom only last year?

"What do you want Myrtle?" Hermione called out tiredly. She was in no mood to deal with the quirks of a ghost tonight. But she decided to play the friendly card, obviously not wanting Myrtle to tattle on her to Umbridge.

"What are you doing here?" Myrtle countered her question with another.

"Can't you see? I have just finished having a bath" Hermione shot back. "Which one?" She asked , holding up two bottles of nail paint to examine them with a critical eye.

"That one," Myrtle said pointing. "But why are you so interested in nail paints anyway? And why are you asking me that question any way?"

"Well..." Hermione began to explain, "That's what we do in slumber parties"

"What are slumber parties?" She asked suspiciously. "Well... Muggle girls go to slumber parties!" Hermione said brightly after searching for the elusive answer. How she was supposed to explain something that was obviously such a modern concept to a wizard girl who obviously thought Muggles were some alien creatures from an exotic planet was beyond her powers of grasping.

"I haven't got all night you know," she reminded Hermione who was deep in thought in an annoyingly high nasal tone.

"A slumber party is where girls get together to have fun, staying overnight at their friend's houses." Hermione decided after some more thinking, which betrayed her obvious lack of any social experience.

"What do they do to have fun?" Myrtle asked, still suspicious.

"I don't know, paint each others nails, braid each others hair, gossip, talk about boys-"

"Talk about boys, huh? I can do that. Why don't we talk about Harry and why he hasn't been to see me for so long..."

Hermione could only groan.

"It is nearly midnight Ron," said Harry "Shouldn't we go and get Hermione? The password is going to change soon."

"Remember what happened the last time we went to rescue her?"

Both fifth-years shuddered and resumed their game.

Thoroughly clean and extremely irritated at her run in with the world's most irritating ghost, Hermione made her way towards the Gryffindor dormitory before taking a long detour to avoid another run in with Peeves.

Reaching the Gryffindor tower she confidently said "Troll Bogies" to the Fat Lady who refused to budge. "The passsword changed at midnight," she said inhospitably. "I am afraid that you will have to find other means of accomodation."

Sighing angrily she turned and contemplated on her options before deciding on a safe haven of refuge... the Owlery.

Epilouge

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. Birds chirped, cats slinked around catching mice and a lazy Gryffindor House woke up rather late; barring two worried fifth-years.

A disgruntled Hermione, covered in owl feathers made her way to the breakfast table, grabbed a piece of toast and studiously ignored the sniggers of the Slytherins.

"Where were you?" Ron asked, beating Harry to the question. "we were worried sick!" Harry whose mouth was stuffed, nodded in agreement.

"Trust me," she said shaking her head, "You don't want to know"

That's it! Tell me what you think.