HELLO!! I am planning to update a bit quicker this time around. No promises though tee hee.

Hermione awoke. What time was it? She groaned, 4:30. Hermione knew from experience that once she was awake, there was no getting back to sleep for her. She sighed and rolled over, scrunching her eyes tight. It was no use.

Stretching her arms as she did it, Hermione very slowly and gingerly swung her legs out of the bed and onto the floor. What was she supposed to do at 4.30 in the morning in an old house?

At her own home, she might have turned the television on low and watched some music videos or really, whatever was on. At Hogwarts, there was always some homework needing doing. And if there wasn't Hermione could usually find some books on the mating habits of vampires, or some such.

But here, Hermione wasn't sure. There was no TV, that was for sure, and no homework or even any backup reading. What Hermione really needed was somebody to talk to. She giggled out loud at the thought of walking into 's bedroom, in tears, sobbing that 'Ginny was being mean to her!'

At that, Hermione glanced guiltily around, as if someone was about to tell her off for being too loud. When she noticed that nobody was about to, she shook her head, thinking she might, maybe, be going crazy.

Hermione decided she could do with a midnight snack. She knew it wasn't actually midnight, but she didn't think that should stop her.

Quietly, she opened her bedroom door, glancing at Sirius' door, but not for too long. And she descended the staircase. On the next landing, she stopped staring at Ginny's closed door. Again, she sighed. What a great start to her summer holidays.

Her mind stuck on Ginny, Hermione entered the kitchen, not bothering to check whether or not there was anybody else in there. Because, why would there be?

Maybe if Hermione knew that the Black family owned a house-elf, she would have thought twice before just walking willy-nilly into the kitchen. Luckily, she had met house-elves before this, so she wasn't absolutely repulsed when she saw Kreacher. Well, actually she still was. He was just a bit eww.

'Hello.' Hermione offered, hopeful.

But to her surprise, she did not receive any acknowledgement in return from the house elf. He continued shuffling around the kitchen, with his head down. Hermione hadn't noticed before that he was muttering under his breath. But she couldn't quite catch the words. She wondered if he was deaf.

'Excuse me,' Hermione said, waving her arms to get his attention. But still nothing.

It dawned on Hermione that the house elf clearly was not deaf. Yet, she didn't know what it was that could be prompting him to act in this way.

Hermione shrugged, wondering what she was supposed to do next. She shrugged, and remembered why she had come down in the first place. Figuring that the house elf wasn't going to be too put out if she did something, Hermione approached the cupboard wondering if the Black family shared Hermione's liking for cookies.

But before her hand even entered the cupboard, Hermione felt, and could see, and smell some crusty old house elf toenails digging into her shoulders. It was on top of her. OW! The elf just pulled Hermione's hair.

Hermione didn't want to yell out. She knew that everyone was still asleep. And besides, she already had enough ill feelings directed at her from the Weasleys without messing up their beauty sleep too.

Silently, Hermione panicked. There was a smelly, old, hairy and it seemed, grumpy, house elf on her shoulders, digging in so hard she thought it might draw blood, pulling her hair, and all the while muttering under his breath. Hermione thought she distinctly heard the words 'filthy', 'house' and 'masters'.

Trying to think rationally, which wasn't easy considering her predicament, Hermione thought of all the possible methods of escape. She was reluctant to fight the house elf, because she still strongly believed in house elf rights, and never wanted to hurt one. She could go and get help. But from who? Ron?

Ron probably couldn't do any more about an attacking elf than Hermione could. As much as she detested the thought, Hermione knew that the only person in this house capable of helping her at this time of night was Sirius.

Sirius obviously would know the house elf and perhaps even be able to provide some explanation as to… what the hell?

And Sirius was the only one she could trust not to go insane at her. She was having issues with Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley, and she guessed Ron as well, though she hadn't spoken to him recently.

What about the twins?, Hermione desperately asked herself. She felt she could trust them not to give a rat's ass about who Hermione spoke to at bressert. But then, could she trust them not to laugh for the remainder of the holidays at her? No, probably not.

Trying to remain calm despite the elf viciously digging his fingernails into her scalp, Hermione sighed and tip toed up the stairs, past the first level of rooms, and up the next flight.

She urgently snuck past her own room, wishing fervently that she was old enough to perform magic outside of the school term, or that Harry was here. He would pull some solution out of his arse, if Hermione knew him. And she did.

When Hermione arrived at Sirius' bedroom door, the only thing she wished was that the elf was gone so she could stand at his door, all night, just listening to the sounds of him sleeping. But she was also mindful of the fact that this probably wasn't how she should be spending her time, and thus relieved that she had a crazy house elf on her back to distract her from doing such things.

When the elf stuck a particularly pointy nail into Hermione's spine however, all Hermione's affection disappeared and she let out a soft shriek, only loud enough for someone standing very close to hear, 'Ouch!'

Then all was silent. All was silent so Hermione could hear the waking up noises coming from Sirius' bedroom. Thinking she might wake somebody else if she tried to explain the menace of an elf on her shoulders whilst on the stairs landing, Hermione closed her eyes shut and opened the door.

'Hermione!' Sirius exclaimed, 'What...? Kreacher!'

Creature? Hermione supposed she could only expect insults from the person she'd awoken in the early hours of the morning, but was still a little upset by the remark. Insults were all she needed. She felt her breathing become more and more strained, and felt a pain behind her eyelids. She let her hands rush to her head, which was now throbbing with the pain the house elf had inflicted, then just sat down and cried, not bothering to hide it.

The scratching on her head was becoming unbearable. But as that thought occurred to her, it eased a little, then a little bit more. She realised Sirius had wordlessly pulled the elf off of her, and was now in the middle of an angry exchange with it. She felt so drained that she didn't bother to try and understand what was being said, but instead put her head down and her arms over her ears, breathing slowly and purposefully.

It wasn't until another five or so minutes later that Hermione noticed that it was Sirius' bed she had been sitting on, crying on. She didn't know what to think of this. She also noticed Sirius beside her watching her intently. He had no shirt on. No shirt.

Seeing her watching him, Sirius opened his mouth to speak, 'Hermione.'

She raised her eyes, hoping he wasn't aware of her awareness of the fact that he was missing a shirt. And her awareness that he was extremely hot. Hermione was strongly reminded of Peter Petrelli, a character on a Muggle television show. He was pretty hot too. Sirius was quite a bit taller though, so maybe a stretched out version. Hermione observed that Sirius was all torso.

'What was that about?' he asked, 'What happened?'

'I don't know what it was about,' answered Hermione, 'He just attacked. I… I don't know.'

'Why were you not in bed?' Hermione noticed that the joking note always present in his voice had disappeared, and after the creature comment, she got the feeling Sirius was not happy.

'I just woke up, and I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep. I never can. So I went downstairs. I guess I was going to get something to eat. Then, yeah.'

'Right.' There was a very decisive note to his voice, 'Kreacher is going to get it.'

With that, he left. Hermione was so very confused, and her head was so sore, that she felt she had no choice but to shake her head a few times, and not knowing whether she was allowed to leave, fall asleep on Sirius' bed.

What do you reckon? I'd love some more feedback. = )