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Waking Nightmares

Most would not find the word, laughter, stressing or annoying. Yet, that
morning, Professor McGonagall was finding it extremely stressing. On any
other
day, she would have given her resignation into the Headmaster, Albus
Dumbledore, and taken the first train to Edinburgh. But today she had to
suffer through the stressing situation she found herself in.

"Class!" She shouted for the fifth time, "Silence!" The volume of
the
laughter only increased and the taxed professor almost screamed in
annoyance.
From the first day she had begun teaching at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall
had never had a class not obey her. Usually, the fear of her wrath kept them
in line. However, something seemed to have changed that as the roar of
laughter and the sound the shouting children only escalated.

Once she had stared into a mirror and tried to find which facial expression
caused the fear that every child had when they looked at her. She had
frightened herself by the infamous McGonagall glare and had almost vowed to
soften it. But due to the fact that it worked tremendously when it came to
discipline, she had never softened it. Now nothing she had done had caused the
class to calm down.

Finally giving up, she sat at her desk and put her head in her hands.
Suddenly it was silent. Professor McGonagall felt something touch her arm
and
she lifted her head up from the desk.

The class was completely orderly and silent. Her mouth almost fell open.
"Are you all right, Professor?" asked an older Hufflepuff student, whose
name she could not place. She shook her head and rose from her desk.

"I am fine."

"When we came in for class, you were asleep at your desk."

"I assure you I am fine. Now take your seats."

It was apparent that she had fallen asleep at her desk and had dreamed her
whole problem. Minerva had never felt so incompetent in her life.

Finally the last class for that day filtered out through the door and the
Transfigurations Professor was left alone with her worries and fears. She
paced the large classroom diligently for an hour before sighing and
returning
to her desk.
"Minerva!" The said teacher looked up from her desk with tired eyes.
Professor Dumbledore strode into the classroom. "Have you been here for
the
past hour?"

It was a question, but since the answer was fairly obvious, Professor
McGonagall let it hang.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked gently. She could almost see her
friend's kind smile, even though her eyes were trained on the floor.

"No, Albus. I am not feeling all right." Minerva went to stand but a
wave
of dizziness passed over her and she remained seated.

"Your students said you weren't yourself today, Flu?" Albus placed a
cool hand against his deputy's forehead.
"No, I do not have the flu. I fell asleep at my desk." She said her
statement as though it was a confession of murder and Albus noticed she even
cringed as she said the distasteful words.

"Oh, is that all? I thought you were ill. Thank goodness!" Minerva's
mouth fell open and she gapped at Albus.

"But I…I…" She stammered.

"You need to eat a balanced supper and go straight to bed." Albus forced
his face into a mocking strict expression. "Is that understood…Mrs.
Dumbledore?"
"Of course," Minerva mumbled, "But only after I finish my grading."

The resulting sigh was followed quickly by a passionate kiss and neither
professor showed up for dinner. However, neither one had any difficulty
sleeping that night…

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