Hermione sighed and got out of her four poster bed. There was nothing for it. She hadn't slept and at four-thirty in the morning she wasn't going to. She dressed in her school uniform and made her way down to the common room, book in hand. The fire had reduced itself to a small pile of smouldering embers and Hermione grinned in the half-light. The orphanage had never had open fires due to fanatical opinions about health and safety and Hermione's obsession with it would have caused her more problems than she needed, had it become common knowledge. But her parents had always had a fire roaring in the library of their house and it was from that fire that Hermione had done her first piece of accidental magic. Hermione watched the fire and clicked her fingers. A small bundle of bluebell coloured flames appeared there and sat, quite happily, in her open palm. It wasn't hot, or at least it wasn't to her. Watching them with a sort of bemused detachment she dropped the flames into a jar she had brought for the purpose. As the flames didn't require oxygen she could quite easily screw a lid on and use it as a portable candle. After repeating the same thing with the fireplace, Hermione immersed herself in the fine art of potion-making and only emerged when footsteps came down the boy's staircase. She watched over the top of her book as Fred and George Weasley, clad in their initialled knitted jumpers and pyjamas, made their way across to the portrait hole on the far side.
"Are you coming, Hermione?"
She jumped, having thought herself unnoticed by the twins. "Where are you two off to?"
"Kitchens," George answered as they turned to smile at her. Fred held out his hand and, somewhat reluctantly, Hermione put down her book and joined them. The Fat Lady merely sighed at the twins and shut her portrait quietly behind them. They set off down the corridor moving swiftly, but quietly.
"Why are we going to the kitchens? And why are you wearing the wrong jumpers?"
Both twins stopped and looked at her. "How do you know that?"
Hermione shrugged. "I'm very observant. So why the kitchens?"
Fred glared at her but shrugged it off. "We need chocolate. It's for an idea we have."
"All right." The trio advanced down through the corridors Fred on Hermione's left and George on her right. The portrait with the pear was all too eager to let them into the kitchens and swung forward, giving Hermione a glimpse of the cavernous stone room beyond. The twins left Hermione outside as a "lookout". She rolled her eyes and kicked at the stone wall, scuffing her school shoes something shocking, a small rebellion against the vile Mary Janes. When the twins finally reappeared, laden down with a basket, they began to make their way back to the common room, striding confidently through the corridors.
"So why do you need chocolate?"
The boys grinned at each other and Fred answered "We are planning to lace it with a drowsiness potion and distribute it amongst the Slytherins. Make them fall asleep in class and get detention."
"Subtle yet dastardly." Hermione smirked in appreciation. "But why did you need to do this at four in the morning?"
George grinned. "It's very clever really. We can't get in trouble for staying up late, because technically we're getting up very early. In Hogwarts: A History the school rules clearly state that students are allowed to rise with the sun. The sun is almost up so we can't get in trouble."
"You two are smarter than I give you credit for." Hermione grimaced slightly and rubbed her eyes, masking a yawn.
"So why were you up so early?"
"I couldn't sleep." Hermione yawned properly at this point and both boys frowned.
"Why not?"
"New place, strange people? Nervous about class?" She offered an array of excuses. "I figured I might as well get dressed and I was reading in the common room when you dragged me out here." They had reached the Fat Lady's portrait by this time and Hermione leaned on Fred as George stepped through the entrance carrying the basket. The trio settled on one of the sofas and Hermione picked up her book again.
Fred nabbed it. "You need to go to sleep, Twist."
Hermione giggled slightly as she reached for her book. "Twist?"
"Like in that book we read. Oliver Twist. It's either that or Amazon." George slung an arm around her shoulder.
"But I'm not sleepy." Fred laughed as she yawned.
"Liar. We'll wake you in time for breakfast."
Hermione nodded and found that suddenly she could sleep. Resting her head on the side of George's chest, with her legs tucked up under her and Fred on her other side she felt tired and peaceful. With a mental note to point out they were not in charge of her when she woke up Hermione drifted off to sleep.
George glanced down at the sleeping girl and sighed.
"Have you noticed how little she smiles?"
Fred frowned slightly. Some of her hair had pulled free of her braid and was curled around her pale face. When her strong personality wasn't in effect you could see how truly thin she was. As she lay against him, Fred could feel how little her body weighed.
"It's not right for a first year to be so..." Fred searched his mind for the right word.
"Resigned." His brother answered. It was the perfect description. Hermione was very rarely excited. Worried, occasionally, but she was so used to life that she regarded it with the jaded eye of someone who has seen the worst and kept living. Nothing phased her.
"What do you think of Harry?"
"He seems all right." George shifted slightly to check the stairs were still empty and smiled at his twin. "What with his charming nature and Hermione's genius I think we may have found our own Marauders.
"You reckon?" Fred gazed into the fire thoughtfully. "You know, it's amazing that fire hasn't gone out yet."
Classes started that morning. Some, like Transfiguration, was brilliantly taught, if slow going. Others like Defense Against the Dark Arts, taught by the disturbing Professor Quirrel, were...a disappointment. He seemed perfectly content to let the class rot and fail and Hermione couldn't help but wonder aloud to Harry, why on earth Professor Dumbledore had hired him.
"I seriously doubt as to whether he has had any practical instruction in Defense." Hermione glowered at the Teachers Table, before returning to her lunch. "I hate knowing that I'm not learning anything useful. I've read that wretched textbook cover to cover. It's useless." Fred and George watched her, clearly amused. The only time their Amazon got worked up about something was when it came to teaching.
"We could give you our second year books." George suggested.
Hermione's eyes widened and she stared at them as though they'd offered her the world in a single bound volume. "You mean that?"
Fred nodded. "We'd have to get mum to send us them but if we told her it was for you then I doubt she'd complain."
"What's this?" Harry tuned back into the conversation, helping himself to a nearby sandwich.
"Hermione is complaining about the substandard teaching services provided within the hallowed walls of Hogwarts."
Harry grinned. "Ah, the usual then."
"The twins have offered me their second year text books."
"Why don't you go see McGonagall?" George suggested. Hermione frowned slightly and he continued. "She'd be more than happy to give you advanced reading material. And having a model student as our friend makes us look good too."
"You're diabolical, Gred Weasley."
Hermione discovered she was well ahead of the rest of her year and that included those students who had come from pureblood households. Eventually, she did appeal to her Head of House, Professor McGonagall. She had regarded the young girl with blatant curiosity. Miss Granger never spoke out in class. She never asked questions and her assignments were turned in on time. McGonagall had heard similar reports from Charms, Herbology and to her great surprise Potions. It would seem that Professor Snape valued quiet students who didn't ask annoying questions.
"I can supply you with extra reading material. But unless you want to skip into the year ahead?" She paused and the girl shook her head vehemently, "Then I suggest you get a hobby. Can you play Quidditch? Or chess?"
"I've never tried Quidditch." Hermione shrugged "I'd be willing to try, but first years are not allowed to play on the House teams. With the exception of Harry of course."
"Mr Black was a rare exception." McGonagall rummaged through the sheaves of parchment on her desk and pulled out a slightly grubby scrap, which appeared to have been torn from a Quidditch magazine. "Madam Hooch said you were an adequate flyer. " Hermione shrugged again, but there was a slight smile hanging around her lips. "I will contact Oliver Wood about giving you some extra flying lessons. In the meantime" She wrote on a spare piece of parchment. "This is a pass into the restricted section. I will trust that you use it with integrity and show Madam Pince any books that you check out. To make sure you don't read anything you shouldn't."
Hermione nodded, accepted the pass and left quietly.
"Wow." Fred stared at her as though she'd just told him that Snape was dancing the can-can on the battlements.
"McGonagall let you loose on the entire Library?" Harry stared in amazement. "That's like Grindlewald being given Merlin's wand. Does she realise what she's unleashed on Hogwarts?"
Hermione glared at him for the analogy and glanced around the deserted corridor. "Where's George?"
"Still getting changed." The two mud-splattered Quidditch players smiled at her, Harry looking like a shorter, black-haired twin, with his mischievous grin.
"She also said she wanted Oliver Wood to give me extra flying lessons so I'm not so bored, but I'm not sure about that."
"And why not, oh daring First Year of genius?" George approached from behind them and wrapped an arm around her in greeting. The hug was quick but affectionate and Hermione smiled slightly.
"Because I'd rather not draw attention to myself." Hermione shrugged and smirked at Harry. "Did you do that DADA essay yet?"
"Yes. Honestly, it's as though he's not trying to teach us anything." Harry gesticulated wildly and Hermione watched him with amusement as mud flew off his hands and splattered the walls.
Fred and George watched the pair walk off slowly down the corridor.
"We show them the map soon?" George nodded and Fred smiled. Hogwarts wouldn't know what hit it.
When McGonagall had said "Extra flying lessons", Oliver Wood had taken it to mean "a new reserve player". Quidditch was a strange game. Hermione had read the books and listened to Wood's instructions and her flying improved slowly but steadily. Oliver Wood took to throwing bread rolls and fruit at her in the corridors and seeing if Hermione dropped one. Hermione had taken to throwing them back. Hard. Apparently a short temper and a good throwing arm were the makings of a fine chaser. Hermione wouldn't be allowed to play until her second year, so she spent Quidditch practises being trained by the existing players. Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet raced her up the pitch, throwing the Quaffle to each other. Hermione only had to get it off them. It was like a game of piggy-in-the-middle, but played twenty feet in the air at high speed. Hermione had been worried that the older girls would resent having a back-up chaser encroach on their territory but they'd actually seemed relieved to have her.
"Now we don't have to worry about Oliver if we get sick." Katie had explained on the way to the changing rooms. "Last year he dragged Angelina out of the Hospital Wing with the flu."
Angelina snorted with amusement. "You should have seen him. He flung me over one shoulder and ran at full pelt through the school, with me sneezing all over his back. Madam Hooch was forced to admit there is no rule about tying a chaser to her broomstick and let me play."
"Did you win?"
The girls laughed. "Yes. Katie and Alicia worked overtime. Oliver got two weeks detention from Madam Pomfrey though."
Ollivander's words about brother wands had been forgotten by Hermione. It was unusual that she forgot anything so perhaps it would be better to say that she simply relegated the information to the back of her mind. She was finally busy and happy. The Library opened a wide range of possibilities and Quidditch gave her an appetite to gain back some bodyweight. Sleeping was still an issue although she was careful not to let the twins know. Hermione could tell they worried about her. Partly because they shot her nervous glances at her whenever she yawned and partly because Harry had taken her to one side of the common room and told her.
"They're worried about you."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why?"
"Because you don't smile enough. You don't eat enough and they can tell you've not been sleeping." Harry glared at her running his hands through his hair in agitation. Hermione flattened it down again, muttering about his scar. Hermione, the Twins and Susan Bones were the only one who knew the truth about Harry's identity and Harry preferred to keep it that way. No one had made the connection between Harry Black and the Harry Potter whose guardian was Sirius Black. It was things like this that made Hermione doubt the collective intelligence of the magical population.
"Do I look like I've not been sleeping?"
Harry winced, detecting the mildly offended tone to her voice. Growing up with Sirius Black, infamous playboy had given him a slight insight in the workings of a witches mind.
"You look fine Twist. I can't tell that you haven't been sleeping. But apparently the Twins can."
In truth, Hermione hadn't slept a full nights sleep in almost four years. After her parents' death there had been too much grief and nightmares. Eventually, it simply became a habit and the lack of rest didn't have much of an effect on her. But sometimes it was nice to sleep. It was two in the morning on the 19th of September and Hermione had decided the best present she could give herself was a good nights sleep. She shrugged on her dressing gown and crept down the girls staircase, wand in hand, knowing the girls in her dormitory would love to catch her out at night. The boy's staircase wasn't charmed like it's counterpart and Hermione wandered up past the First and Second-year doors until she reached the third years. Hermione opened the door quietly and stepped inside. The room contained three beds, two along one wall and one by the window. Hermione could tell by the dreadlocks poking out from under the duvet which bed belonged to Lee Jordan. The other two were the twins. Silently thanking the Sorting Hat for the small intake to Gryffindor two years ago, Hermione picked a bed at random and slipped under the covers and curled up. It wasn't long before she had drifted off. Fred turned over in his sleep and wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head as he did so.
George woke first. Silently cursing the morning sunlight, he swung his body out of bed and stood, swaying slightly. It wasn't until he'd come back from the bathroom that he finally noticed what his subconscious had been desperately trying to tell him.
He stopped.
He stared.
He scratched his head in confusion and woke up Lee.
"'iss off."
"Wake up. I need to check something."
"Wha?" Lee sat up and stared blearily around.
"Is that Twist asleep in my brothers' bed?"
"Yeah. Let me sleep, you moron." Lee flopped back down, asleep before he hit the mattress. George wandered over to his brother's bed and shook him awake.
"Georgie? Why are you in my bed?"
"I'm not." George started to laugh quietly.
"Then who am I cuddling?" Fred refused to open his eyes, wanting to hold on to the last vestiges of sleep while he still could.
"That would be Hermione." Fred's eyes snapped open. He glanced down at the sleeping girl and frowned.
"What's she doing in my bed?" His brother shrugged. "Should I wake her?"
"Bloody hell. No." George lowered his voice to a whisper. "This is the first time she's slept properly since the first day of school. Leave her be."
Fred carefully maneuvered his way out the bed and stood next to his brother, staring down at her in confusion.
"It worries me."
"What does?"
"The way we know she hasn't been sleeping properly. Harry thinks she's fine."
"Harry is unobservant. We're not."
"Still..." Fred trailed off. George shrugged.
"Get dressed in the bathroom. I'll wake up Lee again and tell him to be quiet."
"You don't have to." Lee muttered into his pillow. "I hate you two you know."
"Nah." The twins grinned. "You love us."
The twins found Harry and dragged him up to their room. The three of them sat on George's bed and watched Hermione sleep.
"You two realise how creepy this is?" Harry smirked at them. "What was she even doing in your bed anyway?"
"We're not sure. We woke up and there she was." Fred murmured making frantic hand gestures for Harry to keep his voice down. "And we're not creepy."
"The two of you are watching the girl whose got you wrapped around her finger sleep. That's creepy."
George scowled. "We're not wrapped around her finger. And we're not watching her. We're waiting for her to wake up."
"Oh so why don't you do THIS!" And before the twins could stop him, Harry launched himself from Georges bed, leaping over the gap to land on Hermione's knees. Hermione sat bolt upright and punched him in the face. Harry toppled off the bottom off Fred's bed with a thump, clutching his nose and Hermione looked around herself confused. Muffled cursing could be heard from the floor, but neither twin seemed inclined to help.
"What's going on?" Hermione looked around for someone to blame for her sore hand and glared at the twins. "What did you do?" Fred and George smiled innocently and pointed at the floor at the foot of the bed. Hermione crawled forward, grateful for her thick flannel pyjamas to see Harry lying in a heap. "Who punched you in the face?"
The twins burst into peals of laughter and Harry scowled. Hermione's brain woke up and connected the laughter with her hand and the bloody nose.
"Ah. I'm...sorry?" She stretched out a hand to help him up. Harry perched on the end of the bed just out of her reach, watching her warily. Fred handed him an old sock to stem the flow of the bleeding and wandered over to sit on Hermione's left. George had perched on her right and the four of them looked at each other before laughing. Wiping tears from his eyes with his bloody sock Harry stared at Hermione.
"So tell me. What exactly was a lowly first year doing sleeping in the bed of renowned ladies man Fred Weasley?" The twins stopped laughing and watched her with interest.
"I couldn't sleep." Hermione blushed slightly. "I figured I deserved a good nights sleep, today of all days and I remembered the last time I'd slept properly was on the sofa in the common room. I'm sorry if I bothered you." Harry smirked slightly as the twins frowned.
"Today of all days?" George asked.
"Oh it's nothing."
"Uh huh." The twins each raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
Harry grinned. "Do you two practise that in front of a mirror?"
George gasped "How dare you insinuate such untruths about us?"
"You impinge upon our honour, young Black."
Hermione giggled and the twins turned back in shock.
"Did you just giggle?" Fred asked. Hermione blushed again.
"Yes. I do sometimes." Hermione stuck her tongue out at them and the tension was broken. "Can I ask you lot a question?"
"Anything Twist."
"How are you going to get me out of the boys dormitory without everyone in the common room seeing?"
"Ah." Hermione looked around at the blank faces of her friends and sighed.
"Hang on." Fred murmured. "I've got just the thing."
Hermione raised an eyebrow in disbelief. The eyebrow only got higher when Fred reached under his pillow and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "What is that?"
George smirked at her and tapped the parchment with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Ink spread rapidly across the page and Hermione watched in wonder as it sketched out a message.
Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the Marauders Map
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by a snarl of rage from the foot of the bed.
A/N
Updated 2019