The Cure for Insomnia

Disclaimer: All characters, plots, etc. pertaining to Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling. All I own is the story.

Author Note: This story is the product of my own insomnia. Read it at your own risk. As always, this story is also posted in my livejournal, along with the occasional tidbit of something in the works that has not yet been posted elsewhere. The link is in my profile. And last, yes, my penname used to be Yulka. I changed it.

It had been approximately ten years since Ginny Weasley had enjoyed a truly wonderful good night's sleep. Sure, there were times when she would fall asleep when her head hit the pillow and wake up when her alarm went off in the morning. It was possible for this to happen for a few months straight. But on the nights she could fall asleep she was plagued by nightmares. Her sleep was not the deep, peaceful sleep that allowed one to feel refreshed in the morning. Ginny soon found that she preferred the nights when sleep would not come. On those nights she usually slept no more than a few hours, but at least then she was too tired to dream, let alone to have nightmares.

At first Mrs. Weasley had not been too worried when Ginny would stumble down the stairs in the morning with bags under her eyes from a night filled with demons. It was only to be expected after Ginny's traumatic first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Mrs. Weasley suspected that Ginny was visited in the night by Tom Riddle and once again Molly Weasley felt pain because she had not been able to spare her child that horrible experience. It was an experience that no one-- especially an innocent child-- should ever have to have. But Molly Weasley also knew that time was a great healer and that eventually Tom Riddle would only plague Ginny's sleep occasionally. Molly knew it was foolish to think that time could erase what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Possession by the memory of the sixteen-year-old who would become the darkest wizard of their time was not something that could ever be truly forgotten. There was nothing to do except to wait, so Molly Weasley waited.

At first Mrs. Weasley tried to persuade Ginny to nap, perhaps in the daylight the demons would not find her. But Ginny had never been one to sleep the day away. She had always been a more active child. Then Mrs. Weasley prepared tea laced with a sleeping potion. But Ginny refused to drink it. Ginny was afraid to sleep that summer after the Chamber. She was afraid of the nightmares. Finally, Mrs. Weasley obtained a dreamless sleep draught for her daughter with the instructions only to give it to Ginny once a week for a month in order to help her rest and overcome her fear of sleep. It would not do for the twelve-year-old to become addicted to the potion. Ginny took the potion once, but did not like how she woke feeling muddled and confused after taking it. Given a choice between nightmares and a drugged sleep Ginny chose the nightmares. Mrs. Weasley agreed with her daughter, hoping it meant that Ginny was sleeping more. But when Ginny returned from Hogwarts after her second year Molly discovered that Ginny still hardly slept at night. Molly Weasley became worried.

Ginny tried to sooth her mother's fears. She explained that she preferred sleeping only a few hours because then the nightmares did not come. "For some reason being visited by Tom Riddle does not allow you to sleep easily at night," Ginny had told her mother with what she hoped was an impish smile. Molly Weasley cried.

Ginny accepted that she would be plagued with insomnia and learned to live with it. Indeed, during Ginny's fifth and seventh years at Hogwarts her insomnia proved to be a blessing in disguise. Those years were not marked by the sleep deprivation and surliness characteristic of wizards and witches preparing for OWLs and NEWTs because Ginny only needed a few hours of sleep at night. Any more sleep than that was, in fact, impossible.

During the few years in which Number Twelve Grimmauld Place became her home for the holidays Ginny discovered that she was not the only insomniac. One night while reading a trashy Muggle romance novel Hermione had leant her, Ginny started at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Harry had appeared, seeking a drink after he had woken up drenched in a cold sweat from his own potent nightmares. Ginny had, at first, resented Harry's intrusion. Night was about the only time Ginny had to herself and she guarded it jealously. But after a few minutes of watching Harry fumble around the kitchen looking for tea Ginny relaxed and resolved to share her time with Harry—at least for that night. She helped him find the tea. But Harry's insomnia was fleeting and rarely lasted more than a few days. Ginny's insomnia was, as far as she could tell, permanent.

Ginny read a lot of books at night. Once she had her own flat she filled her nights with cooking and baking during the holidays. Her brothers loved that she supplied them with Christmas cookies until the new year. Ginny studied for her healer exams during the night and as a healer-in-training she volunteered for the night shift often. Now she was a fully qualified healer and night shifts were not required of her, though she would occasionally work one or two during the month.

At twenty Ginny started dating Harry Potter. At night she loved to reminisce about their conversation and the night that had ended with him asking her out the first time. They had both been to the Burrow for a dinner and he had stared at her all throughout the meal.

"You're looking well, Gin," Harry said as they both cleared the table.

"You should know," Ginny retorted with a quick grin. "Are you conducting an experiment that required you to examine me for the entire dinner?"
Harry merely grinned at her instead of blushing or looking away and Ginny started. She remembered the boy she had fancied all too well, but the Harry standing in her mother's kitchen was suddenly not a little boy anymore.

"Now you're staring," Harry told her.

"Harry Potter, when did you become all grown up?" Ginny asked.

"When did you become so beautiful?" Harry responded.

Ginny realized that he was standing very close to her. She thought that if she extended her fingertips from the hand at her side she could brush the top of Harry's leg. Then she blushed and decided that would not be a good idea.

"It was all those night shifts I took as a healer-in-training," Ginny joked, flipping her hair and trying to ease the tension she felt. Harry was not taking the bait.

Ginny reminded herself to breath as Harry continued to look at her. She had never been the recipient of such a gaze and did not know what to do. But Ginny could not look away, she could not move. Harry had her in a spell as surely as if he had put a full body bind on her. She waited for him to say something or do something.

"So beautiful," Harry murmured and Ginny wondered if he realized he had spoken out loud.

Ginny mentally reviewed her appearance. She was of average height, but she was too skinny with too many freckles and breasts she had always felt were too large for her slender frame. She had knobby knees and pointy elbows, not to mention all that red hair and eyes the color of mud. Ginny Weasley knew full well that allmost peoplesaw when they looked at her was another Weasley and anotherhead of wild red hair.

"Harry Potter," said Ginny in a steady voice, without agenda, looking him straight in the eye, "I have never been anyone's idea of beautiful."

Harry simply replied, "You've always been mine." Then he returned to tending the dishes.

He did not kiss her then, he would not kiss her for another three weeks. But he did ask her to Hogsmeade for drinks right before she left that night.

"I don't have any terribly strenuous lessons planned for my NEWTs students for a while. Why don't you and I put your insomnia to good use. Meet me for drinks in Hogsmeade after work on Friday," Harry asked.

"Do you remember those times at Grimmauld Place when you couldn't sleep?" Ginny asked suddenly.

"I remember being a randy bloke who discovered that if he had nightmares there was always a girl wearing precious little waiting in the kitchen," Harry returned. "It made me want nightmares. So will you come to Hogsmeade on Friday."

"I'll be there," Ginny promised.

Ginny always smiled to herself as she remembered that day. At night she fondly recalled the early days of dating Harry Potter. He had been such a gentleman. Ginny always chuckled as she recalled how relieved Harry had been when she told him she had had quite enough of his chivalrous act and would he please just take her to bed.

But Ginny at twenty-one was now nervous. It was broad daylight and she was not worried about nightmares. Ginny had thought she was over being nervous when it came to Harry Potter, but she was wrong. She had never spent the night at Harry's, telling him there really was no point for her to prowl restlessly around his flat while he slept. For a while Harry had accepted Ginny's reasoning. But the other night he had thwarted her.

"Make my place yours. Then you can prowl around your flat at night and I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to sleep," Harry told her. "There's more than enough room for two here."

Ginny had agreed. She wasnow questioning her sanity.Perhaps Harry Potter induced insanity in Weasley females. Harry would want to cuddle at night, he always wanted to cuddle with her during the day. Ginny could not lie in bed until she was exhausted and when she slept she kicked. She was afraid Harry would be upset. But she moved in anyway.

Harry and Ginny spent most of Saturday unpacking all of Ginny's things and changing Harry's flat into "their" flat. Late that night after they had finished a meal of macaroni and cheese Harry looked around and a smile stole across his face.

"What?" Ginny asked.

Harry hugged Ginny to him and replied, "You can tell a woman lives here now. I love it. I love you."

"I love you," Ginny replied and kissed him.

Harry prepared to go to sleep and Ginny sat at the kitchen table with a medical journal and a pen. After a few moments she decided to acknowledge the fact that Harry was standing in the doorway watching her.

"I'm not coming to bed, Harry," Ginny told him while underlining a bit in the journal, "Not yet."

"I just wanted to say goodnight," Harry told her, walking over to kiss her forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Ginny was distracted that night. She could not read. She could not write. By one o'clock she was as bored as she could remember ever being. By one thirty Ginny had prowled into the bedroom. Harry looked so peaceful and the bed looked so warm. Against her better judgment, Ginny threw on her pajamas and climbed into bed. Harry immediately rolled over and gathered her to his chest in his sleep. This is nice, Ginny thought. She blinked.

Ginny's eyes opened and she saw sunshine. Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed with incredibly sleep tousled hair. He handed her a piece of toast with strawberry jam. Ginny was confused.

"Good morning!" Harry chirped. A chipper Harry was a very rare thing in the morning. During school Harry had never been a morning person and she knew that he drank at least three cups of coffee before he was able to tolerate the sight of any other human being. All of his first year students had the misfortune of having him first thing in the morning. They were all terrified of Professor Potter.

"It's noon," Harry continued. How was your nap, Rip Van Winkle?"

Ginny ignored his illusion to a Muggle tale he had insisted she read and instead stared at Harry with her mouth hanging open. She looked at her watch. She grabbed his wrist to examine his watch. She caught up the clock on the nightstand and examined it. It was noon. Ginny had slept. Ginny had not had a single nightmare.

After that Ginny still loved the nights, but not because it was her time alone. Now the nights were her time with Harry. She would not have it any other way.