Disclaimer: M'kay, obviously this isn't mine. If it were, I wouldn't be raiding the couches for spare change; I would be too busy hiding from everyone in those self same couches.

Notes: This is going to be slash of the femmie variety. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you do like it, Review! Right now it's barely considered PG for angst, but it will eventually be a soft R, or possibly not that soft, depending on the reviews I get.

Chapter 1

The sun rose, casting the enchanted castle alight with its glow. Few creatures were awake in the Forbidden Forest, and none appreciated the aesthetic beauty of the shimmering wards above them. Nor did they notice the way the lake twinkled, as thought winking up at the gleaming castle. Had any of them noticed at all, they might have also noticed the figure up in one of the tower windows gazing back at them.

Of course, most of the creatures were occupied in the search for breakfast, or trying to avoid becoming another's breakfast. None spared a moments thought for the girl watching from above.

Hermione sighed, her eyes following a purple kneazle being stalked by a rather large manticore. The beauty of the sunrise was not lost on her – she only wished she weren't so often awake to greet it. For that would mean she would be able to sleep. A phenomenon not often occurring in her regularly scheduled program, and one that she sorely missed.

She had considered asking Snape if he would help her with the 'Dreamless Draught', but the thought of trying to explain why she needed one... trying to put into words what she couldn't even work out in her head... well, she just didn't think she could.

And so, every morning she was up to greet the dawn. Though she was often too absorbed in thought to appreciate it, she did notice that this morning's was particularly beautiful.

Her ginger colored kneazle – er... cat, leapt up and perched himself in her lap. He was soon purring as she began to absently stroke his thick fur. "Crookshanks, what's wrong with me? Why can't I sleep at night? Why are my dreams such a mystery?" she asked, still watching the purple kneazle evade the hungry manticore, though not really seeing them.

"Why do I feel this way?" she whispered, closing her eyes and sighing once more. "I don't even know what it is I AM feeling. I only know that it's different. And very confusing." She said to herself, her thoughts so distressing that she stopped her repetitive stroking as she became lost in thought. Crookshanks did not much care for his owner's dilemma, but he did protest to the halt in his early morning scratches. She startled out of her melancholy brooding and looked down at her large feline, who was making his point by nibbling on her fingers.

She laughed at his antics and resumed her steady stokes until once again she became too absorbed in thought. Crookshanks gave it up as a lost cause and gracefully leapt down, his tail swishing as he padded over to the door to her room in the head girl's suite. He stopped and turned back, giving her a pointed look. She smiled and shook her head, then spoke the word to open the door; not bothering to close it after her cat had made his stately departure.

Once again, as always, she could only sigh as she turned to get ready for the day.

A/N: Did you like it? Love it? Want some more of it? Then review! (Sorry it's so short. I'll try to make the chapters longer, but there's only so much you can do on breaks!)