I shouldn't be posting this. It's not done and all...that and I have no time to finish it...or anything for that matter. I don't know when i'll post more of any of my stories. I just don't have the time, or interest, for it any more. Oh I still love to write and create but it takes time that I don't have and focus I can't give. Real life and all. Sigh...i'll see if I can't post a more meaningful reason on my bio page soon.

Ronald Weasley wasn't usually a nightmare kinda guy. Oh there were spiders every now and then and, more recently, some very weird brains, but for the most part his dreams were pretty ordinary. Food, girls, getting locked out of the tower in nothing but his boxers…nothing out of the ordinary for a 16 year old male. But last night had been a different story.

Thus Ron was doing something he wasn't used to doing. Usually when Ron occupied a bed he was either A) Dead to the world, B) In the infirmary(which in his opinion didn't have beds, only torture tables), or C) In the process of entering or exiting said bed. But this morning it was none of the above. This morning he was lying in bed staring at the ceiling.

He blamed the dream. Oh how he blamed the dream! He could smell breakfast downstairs. That wonderful aroma of well cooked bacon, toast, and a host of other scrumptious foodstuffs assaulted his nose in ways he considered almost criminal they were so good. And yet he remained staring at the ceiling.

Ron wondered, as he stared up at his poster plastered ceiling, if this was what Harry sometimes felt like when he had a particularly bad dream.

He shook his head. 'No', he thought, 'Harry has it much much worse then this. Hell he usually wakes up either screaming or rubbing his scar in pain. Nothing like this.'

After all he doubted Harry ever dreamt about being a little blond kid that would give his brothers a run for their money in the mischief department.

-Scene Cut-

Hermione blinked herself awake. She sat up, letting the book she'd left perched on her chest the night before slide down the covers to her lap, and stretched. 'What an odd night.' she thought as the stretch turned into a yawn. 'Don't think I've ever had a dream quite that strange.' She blinked again. 'Well I guess there was that one time...'

Her newly awakened upper brain functions cut off that line of thought abruptly as she returned her attention to the book now resting in her lap. She'd left off late last night and she was determined to finish the book today.

As her brain began to spin up and resume normal operations a subroutine took the cancelled line of thought, along with the attached dream memory, and moved it to a new subfolder of her 'Dreams and Odd Thoughts' storage area and marked it with a 'review at later date' notice.

She'd get to it at some point.

Thats all I got folks...sorry.