Post by ginger newts on Dec 5, 2004 21:49:06 GMT -5
A/N: Because I have recurring bouts of insomnia and haven’t slept much this week I decided to torture Minerva. The part where she goes to see a Muggle doctor is based on my own experience last spring with a sleep specialist.
Insomnia
Minerva sighed and rolled onto her back. It was three o’clock in the morning on the third night in a row that she hadn’t been able to sleep. Minerva had tried everything to make herself sleep in the last two days: hot baths, special sleep inducing blends of tea, massages from Albus, reading, even glasses of wine. Nothing helped, she had to face the fact that her insomnia was back in full force. It had been a long time since she had lain awake all night for days at a time. She sighed again and thought about her previous solutions.
When she had been a student, Minerva often kept herself up late into the night reading or doing homework. She had been young and thus able to survive on a few hours sleep each night; she hadn’t realized that it was so easy for her to stay up late because her internal clock was set wrong.. As a young professor, Minerva had often been exhausted at the end of the day and always looked forward to climbing into her large luxurious four-poster bed. Sleep had not come easily, however, and she would toss and turn until three or four in the morning before finally catching two or three hours sleep. Sleep which inadequately prepared her to face the days. Some nights she hadn’t slept at all, causing her to nearly drop by dinner time the next day.
After a couple of months of this, Minerva had begun to oversleep in the morning, causing her to miss breakfast and drawing the concern of her colleagues. She detested sleeping potions, but had to resign herself to taking them for a week or two in order to get some much needed sleep. Unfortunately, by the end of the first week the potions no longer worked and she returned to lying awake at night. The school nurse could find nothing physically wrong with Minerva and she was finally convinced to see a Muggle specialist.
Minerva was nervous about what the Muggle doctors would do to her so her friend and mentor, then deputy headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had accompanied her. The specialist didn’t even require her to undergo any tests; after a discussion of her distress and a few questions about her habits and her age, he decided that there was nothing physically wrong with Minerva but that her internal clock was set incorrectly. In the simplest terms, most people operate on a twenty-four hour cycle that causes them to become sleepy around nightfall, sleeping from about eleven to seven. However, some people, like Minerva, seemed to be on a twenty-seven hour cycle. This meant that they would not grow sleepy until three in the morning, waking later as well. She was given a bottle of pills called melatonin with instructions to take one every night at precisely seven o’clock. After about a week Minerva began sleeping normally to her very great relief.
The melatonin solution worked for many years. Minerva still suffered the occasional sleepless night, but never again did she lie awake night after night begging for sleep. That was until about ten years ago, just after the war with Voldemort ended. During the war Minerva often had to stay awake late due to her work for the Order of the Phoenix being piled on top of her duties as deputy headmistress, head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. When things finally calmed down again, Minerva found that her clock had once again been reset so that three in the morning became her usual bedtime. This time around, during the long sleepless nights, she found herself wandering the corridors, often running into Albus in the kitchens.
He became most solicitous of her sleeping patterns and tried every trick he knew to help her sleep. Several nights found Minerva asleep in his arms in his sitting room and they discovered that for some reason she was able to sleep soundly through the night with Albus near by. He seemed to have a calming effect on her and so he began visiting her at night, sitting next to her in the bed and rubbing her back or stroking her long silky dark hair as she drifted off to sleep. Very often, Minerva would wake to find Albus still there, having fallen asleep while watching her slumber.
At some point during all of this, they had either developed or uncovered deeper feelings for each other than their already deep and abiding friendship. After a few months they had become lovers and with Albus by her side at night Minerva continued to sleep well. Now, she rolled onto her side and looked upon the face of the man she loved more than life itself. They had been through more together than most married couples would ever see, long before their romantic attachment began each had proven loyalty and devotion to the other many times over. Thinking that it might help her sleep, Minerva silently shifted closer to Albus and laid her weary head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. Unfortunately, she very soon grew restless again and when she sat up Albus awoke.
“Minerva,” he grumbled sleepily without opening his eyes, “could you please stop tossing about.”
“I’m sorry, Albus,” she whispered, cupping his face in her palm. “I’ll go into the sitting room and leave you in peace.”
She dropped a tender kiss on his wrinkled brow and rose from the bed. Loosely belting her dressing gown, Minerva moved into the sitting room and picked up a book. She had been reading for almost a quarter of an hour when Albus appeared in the doorway looking like a tired child.
“Please come back to bed,” he said hoarsely. “I miss you.”
Minerva looked up from her book and smiled, “I thought I was disturbing you with my tossing and turning.”
“You were,” he agreed with a sigh, “but I can’t sleep without you beside me. The bed is too big and cold.”
She stood and walked to his side, “Albus, you sound like a child who’s been denied his dessert. Whining doesn’t become you.”
Albus wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her close, rubbing her back. “Come back to bed, Minerva, please,” he requested again.
Minerva sighed and nodded, letting him lead her back to bed. They crawled under the covers and she settled down in Albus’ arms, his large strong hand tenderly rubbing circles on her back. It was soothing and comfortable, but tired as she was Minerva could not sleep. Albus was kept awake by his concern for her.
“Why don’t you let me put you in an enchanted sleep, my dear?” he asked for the tenth time that week.
“Because that’s not a restful sleep, Albus, and it would only be a temporary solution,” she explained. “Eventually my body will shut down of its own accord and I’ll sleep, probably at an inopportune time, but I’ll sleep.”
“Minerva that isn’t good enough,” Albus protested gently. “You’ll become ill if this lasts much longer, even the indestructible Minerva McGonagall needs her rest. Have you been taking the melatonin?”
“Yes,” she grumbled. “Even after thirty years I can’t get used to those blasted pills. How can Muggles stand to take so many of them?”
“I don’t know,” he kissed the top of her head, “but you’re changing the subject again. Maybe you should go back to the doctor, perhaps you’ve been taking the pills too long and they don’t work anymore.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed, “but he said people can take them all their lives without difficulty. I’m so tired!” she suddenly exclaimed in frustration. “My head hurts, my eyes are dry and aching, all my muscles are tense and sore. I hate this!”
Minerva sat up quickly, practically growling in frustration, and arranged the pillows so she could prop herself up against the headboard. Albus sighed and sat up as well, he hated to watch her suffer but if this continued he would be just as miserable as she was, and just as tired.
“I’m sorry, Albus,” her tone softened and she looked truly remorseful. “I don’t want you losing sleep as well.”
“I can’t sleep soundly knowing you’re miserable, my dear. What kind of man would that make me, to sleep while the love of his life suffers?”
“You’re too good to me, Albus,” Minerva smiled softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair out of his face, lettering her hand linger.
Albus leaned into her touch and then turned his head and kissed her palm. “I don’t suppose...” he half asked, suddenly hopeful.
“No, Albus, not tonight,” she said sadly but firmly. “I’m much too tired and in too foul of a mood. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, I’m not some mindless animal that needs to ravage you at every turn. I just thought it might take your mind off your predicament,” he said quietly.
They sat that way for close to an hour, sometimes talking quietly, but otherwise just cuddling silently. Around five o’clock Minerva finally drifted into a light sleep, but Albus was awake for the day. Having slept for five hours earlier in the night he didn’t feel nearly as tired as Minerva would. Feeling guilty, he woke her when the sun had risen and they prepared for the day.
Insomnia
Minerva sighed and rolled onto her back. It was three o’clock in the morning on the third night in a row that she hadn’t been able to sleep. Minerva had tried everything to make herself sleep in the last two days: hot baths, special sleep inducing blends of tea, massages from Albus, reading, even glasses of wine. Nothing helped, she had to face the fact that her insomnia was back in full force. It had been a long time since she had lain awake all night for days at a time. She sighed again and thought about her previous solutions.
When she had been a student, Minerva often kept herself up late into the night reading or doing homework. She had been young and thus able to survive on a few hours sleep each night; she hadn’t realized that it was so easy for her to stay up late because her internal clock was set wrong.. As a young professor, Minerva had often been exhausted at the end of the day and always looked forward to climbing into her large luxurious four-poster bed. Sleep had not come easily, however, and she would toss and turn until three or four in the morning before finally catching two or three hours sleep. Sleep which inadequately prepared her to face the days. Some nights she hadn’t slept at all, causing her to nearly drop by dinner time the next day.
After a couple of months of this, Minerva had begun to oversleep in the morning, causing her to miss breakfast and drawing the concern of her colleagues. She detested sleeping potions, but had to resign herself to taking them for a week or two in order to get some much needed sleep. Unfortunately, by the end of the first week the potions no longer worked and she returned to lying awake at night. The school nurse could find nothing physically wrong with Minerva and she was finally convinced to see a Muggle specialist.
Minerva was nervous about what the Muggle doctors would do to her so her friend and mentor, then deputy headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had accompanied her. The specialist didn’t even require her to undergo any tests; after a discussion of her distress and a few questions about her habits and her age, he decided that there was nothing physically wrong with Minerva but that her internal clock was set incorrectly. In the simplest terms, most people operate on a twenty-four hour cycle that causes them to become sleepy around nightfall, sleeping from about eleven to seven. However, some people, like Minerva, seemed to be on a twenty-seven hour cycle. This meant that they would not grow sleepy until three in the morning, waking later as well. She was given a bottle of pills called melatonin with instructions to take one every night at precisely seven o’clock. After about a week Minerva began sleeping normally to her very great relief.
The melatonin solution worked for many years. Minerva still suffered the occasional sleepless night, but never again did she lie awake night after night begging for sleep. That was until about ten years ago, just after the war with Voldemort ended. During the war Minerva often had to stay awake late due to her work for the Order of the Phoenix being piled on top of her duties as deputy headmistress, head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. When things finally calmed down again, Minerva found that her clock had once again been reset so that three in the morning became her usual bedtime. This time around, during the long sleepless nights, she found herself wandering the corridors, often running into Albus in the kitchens.
He became most solicitous of her sleeping patterns and tried every trick he knew to help her sleep. Several nights found Minerva asleep in his arms in his sitting room and they discovered that for some reason she was able to sleep soundly through the night with Albus near by. He seemed to have a calming effect on her and so he began visiting her at night, sitting next to her in the bed and rubbing her back or stroking her long silky dark hair as she drifted off to sleep. Very often, Minerva would wake to find Albus still there, having fallen asleep while watching her slumber.
At some point during all of this, they had either developed or uncovered deeper feelings for each other than their already deep and abiding friendship. After a few months they had become lovers and with Albus by her side at night Minerva continued to sleep well. Now, she rolled onto her side and looked upon the face of the man she loved more than life itself. They had been through more together than most married couples would ever see, long before their romantic attachment began each had proven loyalty and devotion to the other many times over. Thinking that it might help her sleep, Minerva silently shifted closer to Albus and laid her weary head over his heart, listening to the steady rhythm. Unfortunately, she very soon grew restless again and when she sat up Albus awoke.
“Minerva,” he grumbled sleepily without opening his eyes, “could you please stop tossing about.”
“I’m sorry, Albus,” she whispered, cupping his face in her palm. “I’ll go into the sitting room and leave you in peace.”
She dropped a tender kiss on his wrinkled brow and rose from the bed. Loosely belting her dressing gown, Minerva moved into the sitting room and picked up a book. She had been reading for almost a quarter of an hour when Albus appeared in the doorway looking like a tired child.
“Please come back to bed,” he said hoarsely. “I miss you.”
Minerva looked up from her book and smiled, “I thought I was disturbing you with my tossing and turning.”
“You were,” he agreed with a sigh, “but I can’t sleep without you beside me. The bed is too big and cold.”
She stood and walked to his side, “Albus, you sound like a child who’s been denied his dessert. Whining doesn’t become you.”
Albus wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her close, rubbing her back. “Come back to bed, Minerva, please,” he requested again.
Minerva sighed and nodded, letting him lead her back to bed. They crawled under the covers and she settled down in Albus’ arms, his large strong hand tenderly rubbing circles on her back. It was soothing and comfortable, but tired as she was Minerva could not sleep. Albus was kept awake by his concern for her.
“Why don’t you let me put you in an enchanted sleep, my dear?” he asked for the tenth time that week.
“Because that’s not a restful sleep, Albus, and it would only be a temporary solution,” she explained. “Eventually my body will shut down of its own accord and I’ll sleep, probably at an inopportune time, but I’ll sleep.”
“Minerva that isn’t good enough,” Albus protested gently. “You’ll become ill if this lasts much longer, even the indestructible Minerva McGonagall needs her rest. Have you been taking the melatonin?”
“Yes,” she grumbled. “Even after thirty years I can’t get used to those blasted pills. How can Muggles stand to take so many of them?”
“I don’t know,” he kissed the top of her head, “but you’re changing the subject again. Maybe you should go back to the doctor, perhaps you’ve been taking the pills too long and they don’t work anymore.”
“Perhaps,” she agreed, “but he said people can take them all their lives without difficulty. I’m so tired!” she suddenly exclaimed in frustration. “My head hurts, my eyes are dry and aching, all my muscles are tense and sore. I hate this!”
Minerva sat up quickly, practically growling in frustration, and arranged the pillows so she could prop herself up against the headboard. Albus sighed and sat up as well, he hated to watch her suffer but if this continued he would be just as miserable as she was, and just as tired.
“I’m sorry, Albus,” her tone softened and she looked truly remorseful. “I don’t want you losing sleep as well.”
“I can’t sleep soundly knowing you’re miserable, my dear. What kind of man would that make me, to sleep while the love of his life suffers?”
“You’re too good to me, Albus,” Minerva smiled softly and reached out to brush a strand of hair out of his face, lettering her hand linger.
Albus leaned into her touch and then turned his head and kissed her palm. “I don’t suppose...” he half asked, suddenly hopeful.
“No, Albus, not tonight,” she said sadly but firmly. “I’m much too tired and in too foul of a mood. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, I’m not some mindless animal that needs to ravage you at every turn. I just thought it might take your mind off your predicament,” he said quietly.
They sat that way for close to an hour, sometimes talking quietly, but otherwise just cuddling silently. Around five o’clock Minerva finally drifted into a light sleep, but Albus was awake for the day. Having slept for five hours earlier in the night he didn’t feel nearly as tired as Minerva would. Feeling guilty, he woke her when the sun had risen and they prepared for the day.
Brilliant work!
