Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or really have anything to do with it. This is a work of fan fiction. I'm not making money, and I (again) DON'T OWN THIS.

A/N: First Fic! Thanks for reading. This is a time turner fic- you know the drill. This is one of my favorite HP genres and I couldn't resist throwing my 2 cents in.

It was way too early, this Hermione knew. She knew it with absolute and unrelenting certainty. And yet, she was awake to witness the dark morning sky getting pinker and pinker.

Why was she awake? Hermione prided herself on being a late riser. It was the only slovenly habit she had, and in a world where all her friends were teenage boys, she had to own it. If she started to get up with the sun like this, there would be no end to the commentary that would come from Harry and Ron.

'Why are you always up so early? Don't you ever sleep? Or are you to wound up to relax even when you're unconscious?' She imagined Ron saying. He had the gift of being blunt. Oh wait, it wasn't a gift. It was a curse, and it had spurred Hermione into countless fights with him.

Just as she imagined Ron would take her sleeping changes as another way she was uptight, she knew Harry would worry for her. He would give her concerned glances over breakfast, and offer to take her book bag to class. He would fuss over the bags under her eyes and try to get her to go to bed at a more reasonable hour- though this would seriously cut into Hermione's late-night studying time. In the end, he would finally voice his worry over her lack of sleep, doing mental tabulations of just how many hours of rest she had gotten. Really, she would have no choice but to hit him.

This was why Hermione lay in bed for up to three hours every morning. Since Ron had been dating Lavender -going on two years now- she didn't even have privacy in her own dorm room. Lavender refused to admit to it, but Hermione knew that when Ron asked her she would act as a spy for him. She even went so far as to try to have a heart-to-heart with Hermione to gain information.

And so, for the fourth morning this week, Hermione lay silent in her four-poster, with the curtains drawn, wide awake and staring at the scrap of window that peaked through her curtains- revealing the morning sky.

It was a twinge that got her up. There was the most annoying sensation in her stomach that would awaken her every morning at five am on the dot. It was almost like the cramp she used to get in her legs when she was suffering a growth spurt, but she had finished growing.

The image flew unwanted through her mind- that her growth spurt would not be up, but out. That she would balloon up and become so fat that broomsticks and couches the world over would shudder in her presence. She quashed the concept down in her brain and mentally sat on it. It didn't happen like that. All the same, Hermione ran her hands over her hips just to reassure herself that she hadn't expanded. She hadn't.

She was perfectly aware that she was curvier than the other girls in her year. And she couldn't help but cast a jealous eye over Ginny's slender frame from time to time. However, she had long considered her mother to be one of the most beautiful women alive, and knew she got her body from her. Not that this meant much when every girl she knew had a boy (or girl, in Padma's case) hanging off of her and Hermione had yet to be asked out as anything more than an escort. Still, she carried on as she always had, unwilling to change her bookish personality just because boys her age preferred beauty to brains.

Once Hermione heard Parvati and Lavender get up and start fussing over over their clothes for the day (this was spectacular, in Hermione's opinion, considering they all wore uniforms), Hermione began her mental countdown until she could feign waking up. After ten minutes of waiting, she carefully rolled over and opened her curtains.

She was about to swing herself out of bed when a shooting pain coursed through her abdomen, causing her to fall off her bed and onto the floor, gently clutching her stomach.

"Oh Hermione! Are you alright? What happened?" Lavender's high, breathy voice rang out through the chamber. And to her credit, she stopped brushing her hair and rushed to Hermione's side, concern etched onto her features. Parvati wasn't far behind her.

"Cramp." was all Hermione could grunt out in response at the moment. But then, as quickly as it had come, the pain disappeared.

Parvati nodded sympathetically,

"Yeah, mine are the worst. You want me to take you to the hospital wing?" she asked.

Hermione's face relaxed from it's scrunched expression as the pain slipped out of her. Without warning, she felt right as rain and moved out of the curled up position she hadn't even realized she'd been in.

"No," Hermione sighed, "I'm fine. Just a little muscle ache from my book bag I guess."

"In your stomach?" Lavender seemed doubtful.

"You know, it's OK to have PMS, it's just us girls here. You don't always have to be such a guy, you realize." Parvati said. Hermione supposed her words were supposed to sound matter-of-fact, but they

twisted her chest with hurt.

She wasn't always a guy. Just because she didn't wear makeup or fuss over her hair or wear skirts during downtime didn't automatically change her second X chromosome to a Y. As much as she wanted to believe this, Parvati's accurate assessment of Hermione's behavior sunk down into the pit of her stomach and stayed there as surely as if she'd swallowed tar.

Without further ado, and with her roommates occupied with their beauty routines, Hermione got up, took a quick shower, and got dressed.

As she briskly walked down the stairs to the common room, having pushed all thoughts of her morning out of her head, Hermione was in a somewhat less melancholy mood. The day was just warming up and it looked like it would be wonderful weather to sit by the lake and finish her potions essay.

Just as her stomach let out a rumble, eager for breakfast, as firm hand clapped over her mouth. Hermione let out a muffled scream and attempted to bite the hand that held her captive. Another strong set of arms wrapped around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides. Though this should have frightened her more, it actually brought her some calm and she stopped struggling. She only knew two people who could work in tandem like that as well as anticipate her quick wand hand.

The moment the pressure on her mouth let up she let them have it,

"Fred and George Weasley, if you don't let me go this very minute I am not only reporting you for breaking into Hogwarts, I am going to hex you so thoroughly that your grandchildren will have tentacles!"

At this, Fred Weasley's hand clapped back over her mouth and his grinning face came back into view.

"Now, is that any way to greet a friend?" he asked, eyes glittering with mischief.

"I'm starting to get the impression that she isn't happy to see us." George grinned over Hermione's head at his twin. He leaned in close, putting his head on Hermione's shoulder and said. "If you promise not to run off and tell, we'll let you go." He said sweetly.

To this, Hermione could only nod. Once Fred and George released her, she whipped around to face them. Her anger wasn't gone, but she was too happy to see her old sparring partners back in the Gryffindor common room.

"What are you two up to? You know that if you're caught you'll be unceremoniously booted from the premises for trespassing." Hermione couldn't help but remind them that Headmistress McGonagall would have them out before the first firework could leave their fingers.

"Of course we know that." Fred replied.

"What makes you think we didn't come just to see your smiling face, hm?" George reached out to pinch her cheek, only to be swatted away.

"No, what we really came here for was this." Fred pulled out a meticulously folded old bit of parchment to present to Hermione. She recognized it immediately as the infamous Marauder's Map.

"We took it off Harry in the beginning of the summer-" Started Fred.

"-we figured he really wouldn't miss it when he wasn't at school, see?" Continued George.

"So we took it back to the shop to see if we could figure out how it worked-"

"wanted to see if there was any way to integrate the spells into a locator product we've been working on." George stopped himself from revealing any more, fearing Hermione would somehow object. Instead she just crossed her arms.

"Only, we forgot to return it to Harry before he got back," Fred looked almost contrite. Almost.

"So we came here, and we were going to just slip it back in his trunk, but we couldn't figure out which was his and we didn't want the map to fall into the wrong hands." Finally, they were getting to a point.

"You want me to get it back into Harry's trunk, without being found out, and not tell Harry or Ron you two thieves took it? Is that right?" Hermione looked at them, one right after the other.

"Pretty much." Replied George.

"And what do I get in return?" Asked Hermione.

"The pride of a job well done?"

"Store Credit?" Fred suggested, earning a scandalized look from George.

"Done." Said Hermione, holding out a hand for the map.

Fred started to pass her the map, but Hermione withdrew her hand.

"Is this a trick?" She asked, looking between the two so as to detect any mischief in their expressions.

"Would we do that?" Fred replied. Hermione raised her eyebrow at his response, silently answering his question. George, seeing that she remained unconvinced, raised his right hand.

"I solemnly swear that this is not jinxed, hexed, or pranked in any way." He put his hand down, "Besides, we see you as a little sister."

"And you know how scared we are of crossing Ginny." Added Fred.

With a final look at the twins, Hermione took the map out of Fred's hand.

The minute Hermione's hands curled around the parchment she doubled over. There was a violent tugging sensation in her stomach, which was similar to a portkey, only much much more painful.

A/N: Whatcha think? Love it? Hate it? Suggestions? Review!