Frankie could feel the cat stalking along the bed, his paws digging into the Ravenclaw’s flesh as he climbed up her body and stood over her neck. And then the audacious feline laid down [i]on her face[/i]. Fur tickled the redhead’s nose and strands found its way into her mouth – Frankie made a mental note to wash the disgusting fiend – and, with a grunt, the fifth year shoved the cat onto the ground. Jabber protested, yowling loudly as he always does, and in response Frankie just threw her pillow in his general vicinity and rolled over. Nevertheless, Jabber was nothing if not persistent – and annoying – and had made his life mission to rouse Frankie from her blissful sleep. He yowled, he howled, he hissed, he coughed, until finally Frankie had had enough. She tossed the covers off of her and slid out of bed. Pajamas were stripped and robes were draped; she was so tired, she just wrapped the tie around her neck and stumbled down the stairs. 

Frankie enjoyed school, this was a fact, and adored learning. The only problem was that she [i]absolutely, totally, and completely hated mornings[/i]. Sleep was a necessity and [i]a lot[/i] of it was a need. If she was woken up in any manner other than natural energy, she would be grumpy for at least an hour. So, with this in mind, many Ravenclaws strayed from her as she stomped away from the Ravenclaw tower and into the Great Hall. Food, any food, was dumped onto a plate and gorged as she needed the oomph if she were to make it through her classes. If anyone objected to her inhalation at that end of the table, they said nothing.