Rumored Nervous Breakdown

My awareness of my surroundings is very difficult, because my thoughts seem to be scrambled. There is a pounding in my head, it hurts to breathe, and I cannot move for some reason. There is a jolt of recognition when I figure out what I am.

"Oh god! No! I have somehow ended up at St. Mungo's."

I can feel a tightening of my stomach as I try to recall the events that may have led me to being here.

"I remember arguing with Dolores, my attempt to walk away, and a painful flash of light."

My heart rate has shot up, and I can feel it pounding out of control in my chest. My mouth suddenly runs dry when the door opens; the light level is increasing with the creak of the door. A matronly-looking Healer walks into the door with a clipboard. I catch a quick glimpse of her badge. It says "Augusta Bulstrode, Chief Healer, St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward."

I cannot seem to make my mouth work properly, but I manage to force out a question. "Why am I here?" Tears are rolling down my eyes when I finish the last word.

Bulstrode pulls up a chair that is sitting next to my bed, but I find her presence is making my anxiety level rise further.

"The Hogwarts High Inquisitor brought you here two days ago, because you had become dangerously delusional. She felt you needed to be brought here before you could hurt yourself or another person," she says stiffly.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" I scream, and I realize that I am starting to hyperventilate.

"That's what all patients say when they are admitted, dear." She speaks to me like I am a dense toddler.

"Who knows I am here?" I ask. "I want to speak to my family right now!"

"No one knows you are here. Madam Umbridge feels this is better for the image of the Ministry," she states. "The Ministry would be embarrassed if it was found they hired a teacher who was psychotic and suicidal."

"I have dropped off the face of the Earth. No one can find me to get me out of here!"

Sweat is now dripping from my face, mixing with tears as they soak into the pillow.

"What are they going to do to me? I know Dolores is capable of anything."

My heart is now hammering, and I have lost control of my breathing. I want to sit up desperately; however, I am being held down to the bed. The room is starting to close in on me; my panic is now out of control.

"Let me up, please!" I scream. I am fighting the restraints although I know that it is pointless. My breathing has gone from hyperventilating to a dangerous wheeze. I can feel my clothes sticking to me from sweating.

"Will you please calm down? I am not letting you out of that bed," she tells me. I vaguely hear a door open, and someone else enters the room. In my mind, I fear it is Dolores coming to hurt me.

"She said she would find a way to shut me up. She said that it could look like a seizure or a suicide. I never expected she would resort to kidnapping me!"

It is a younger man in green Healer's robes instead of Dolores, but this does little to stop my panic. I fight harder to get up, because I want to see if I can get him to understand this is a mistake. I start crying harder out of frustration.

"I'm not psychotic! I don't belong here!"

I can hear Bulstrode address him, but the voices are muffled by my pounding heart and wheezing.

"Please, let me up!" The words are almost lost to my wheezing.

"I am being left here to die! When will Dolores show up to finish me off?"

"Getting worked up is not going to help, dear. You are too volatile and could hurt yourself or someone else," a voice says. I am losing my grip on consciousness; it hard to tell who is speaking to me.

I feel like someone has poured burning tar over my head and down my throat. Sharp jerking snaps are starting in my neck; they are rapidly spreading to my limbs. The pain is unbearable from when my body fights the restraints.

"My loved ones will never see me again. They will never know the truth."

I can hear loud noises around me; however, they quickly fade as I lose a toehold on the world.

There is activity in the room, but I am trying to make sense of where I am. I notice that I am propped up on my side without the restraints. I am so tired and confused. Suddenly, I remember the reason for my misery and panic.

"I am somewhere I do not belong; no one knows where I am, or what happened to me."

The younger Healer must have heard me wake up, because he walks over to the bed. He seems more interested in vital signs than finding out how I feel. I manage to look up to see that his badge says "Justin Copperbottom, Trainee Healer, St. Mungo's Psychiatric Ward."

"Well, I see that we are awake. How are we feeling?" he asks.

Instantaneously, I break out into tears. I am having problems processing what is going on around me. Copperbottom reaches down to make me sit up, and I recoil from his grasp. Instead of sitting up, I roll into a ball.

"I don't belong here. Leave me alone," I mumble.

"Copperbottom, don't let her get worked up again," a new voice orders. I realize that Bulstode has reentered the room with a bottle and glass in her hands.

"I want to talk to family so they know I am okay," I say in a low whisper.

"I told you that no one knows you are here, Eleanor. Madam Umbridge is the only one who is privy to this situation," Bulstrode says, as she pulls the chair back up to the bed.

"Someone else knows where I am, they just can't leave me here," I state with tears falling in renewed intensity.

"Copperbottom get the copy of the Prophet from the office," she orders.

I sit up when the paper is placed on the bedside table, and I roll over to find a picture of myself smiling up from the page.

Hogwarts Muggle Studies Professor Still Missing Despite Desperate Search

Eleanor Howard, age 35, the current Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is still missing despite an extensive search. Ms. Howard disappeared from the school grounds on Thursday, 22 December, and has not been seen since. The missing person's report was received the following Saturday from both her parents and the school's Headmaster Albus Dumbledore when she was unable to be located for a prearranged engagement. The school grounds, local towns, St. Mungo's, and Muggle Hospitals in the area have been searched extensively; however, there have been few leads developed.

Sources have found that Ms. Howard suffered from severe depression in the past few months, and she attempted to take her own life a month ago. The teacher was found in her bathroom, next to a pool of blood, and with her wrists cut; but, the quick thinking of Dolores Umbridge prevented her from bleeding to death. The High Inquisitor states, "The Ministry is very supportive of our employees, and I have helped her to seek treatment for her illness." The school's Headmaster comments, "Professor Howard is a highly dedicated teacher. I doubt she would ever abandon the students in her classroom."

Ms. Howard is 5'7", with dark shoulder length auburn hair, and weighing 150 lbs. There is a distinguishing scar running from her right ear to her left shoulder blade. She requires daily medication for her condition. Anyone with information should inquire at the Missing Persons Division of the Magical Law Enforcement office.

"The hospital was searched for you, but no trace could be found. I told you that no one will find you," Bulstrode says, pushing me back down on the bed.

"This cannot be true. I am alone at the mercy of Dolores. What has she told these people to do to me?"

I refuse to be pushed down on the bed, and I put up a struggle. I beg for them to leave me alone. I start to hyperventilate and panic again. I see a glass coming at me, and I take a half-hearted swat at it. I am too exhausted to protest any longer when they manage to feed me some concoction. I can hear conversation taking place around me as I feel someone check for a pulse. They mention Dolores' name several times, but I cannot force myself to translate the content. I feel sleep stealing my thoughts.

___________________________________________________________________

There is very little light in the room as I wake up. My brain seems to be a bit sluggish in interpreting the environment around me. When I try to rub my eyes, I realize my arm can- not reach my face.

"It's not a nightmare. I just want to see my family and friends again."

Tears are falling down my face as I think of how badly I want to get out of the bed. I long for a hug and reassurance that everything will turn out all right. My thoughts turn to the little things I enjoy. In my mind, I see Daisy running down the drive at Hogwarts attacking Filch's boots, Ozzy knocking me over for peppermints, and the way my Mum sends me chocolates once a month.

"Somebody please find me!"

I don't know how long I have been crying, but the pillow is soaked, and it's very uncomfortable. I can't even roll over to relieve the cramps in my back.

My body gives an involuntary jump at the creak of the door. As the light in the room increases, I see that my guest is Copperbottom. He does not say a word when he takes my vital signs. He does not even look at me after he writes the figures on the clipboard.

"Please, let me out of the restraints," I beg.

"I can't, you might hurt yourself," he says without emotion.

"I haven't done anything wrong! I am not psychotic, and I don't want to hurt you! I am in pain. Please, let me up!" I scream. My breathing is out of control, and I cannot stop crying.

The door swings open quickly, and Bulstrode stomps into the room demanding to know what is going on.

"Copperbottom, why is she getting worked up again?" she asks angrily.

"She wants me to let her up," he says with exasperation.

"Eleanor, when you can contain yourself, I will let you up," she tells me.

"I'll stop," I gasp. "Please, let me up. I am in pain." I manage to choke back the rest of my tears.

Bulstrode releases me, but she seems shocked when I turn on my side instead of sitting up. I refuse to make eye contact with her. I manage a mumbled, "Thank you."

I hear the scraping of a chair against the floor, and someone has decided to sit next to the bed. I don't bother looking up, and I am grateful that my hair is shielding my face.

"Please go away. Everything you do to me causes pain!"

I jump when Bulstrode brushes the strands of hair behind my ear. I am terrified she will restrain me when she sees the tears flowing out of my eyes. My stomach is in knots, and I begin to feel sweat on my forehead. I just want her to stay away from me.

"What do you want from me?"

When she pulls the last strand away from my face, I start shaking with fear. Just her presence causes me to panic. I can feel the rapid beating of my heart, and my arm keeps twitching. I feel like I am going to fall off the edge of a cliff.

"You need to understand that no one can find you here. All you are doing is making yourself sick when you act like this," she tells me quietly. She attempts to pull a stray hair off of my sweaty forehead, but I start sobbing; she is forced to stop.

I hear her mumble something to Copperbottom, but my fear is overriding my curiosity. I just want them to leave me alone.

I hear the door open, and the noise causes me to jump. Copperbottom hands something to Bulstrode, and I almost faint when something cold and wet hits my forehead.

"I just want to talk to my parents," I whisper. I long to hear my mother's voice and my father's laugh one more time.

"You need to understand that the search has been called off, Eleanor," she tells me.

"I don't believe you! They will come looking for me!" I scream.

"Go get the paper, Copperbottom," she orders. "She needs understand that no one is looking any longer."

"My parents would never abandon me, would they?"

Bulstode pulls me up by the elbow, and I see a copy of the Prophet. The same picture is featured from the last article concerning my disappearance. My stomach suddenly turns to lead when I read the headline.

Search Called Off For Missing Professor

Eleanor Howard, age 35, the current Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has been missing since Thursday, 22 December. Ms. Howard recently tried to take her own life a month ago after a struggle with severe depression. An extensive search was launched; however, the Missing Person's Bureau has officially called off the search today because of a new development.

Ms. Howard's watch and a suicide note were found yesterday afternoon outside the school grounds. The school's Deputy Head Mistress, Minerva McGonagall, confirms the watch belonged to the missing teacher, and the note was penned in her handwriting. Although the contents of the note have not been released, unnamed sources informed the Prophet the letter stated she was depressed due to failing health. The Hogwarts High Inquisitor tearfully comments, "I am heart broken at this development. She was a dedicated teacher and a wonderful friend." The school's Headmaster declines to comment on the matter at this time.

Ms. Howard's parents Vivian and Roger Howard have told the Prophet, "We still have hope our Nell will be found alive and well." Although they try to be optimistic, the Howards will be going to the school to retrieve her personal property and take care of legal necessities.

I hear screaming, and I realize the noise is coming from me. I am dizzy with grief. I cannot accept that my loved ones have given up looking for me. Dolores has fulfilled her promise to make me go away.

"What is going to happen to me now? Does she want me dead, or will she play with me like a cat torturing a mouse before going in for the kill?"

"Eleanor, calm down, dear. Getting worked up is not going to do anything," a voice says.

"Leave me alone!" I shout as I roll out of the bed. I know I cannot get out of the room, but I just want to be out of their reach for just a moment. I huddle in a corner with my heart hammering in my ears. The noise coming from my chest is deafening, and I want it to stop. I have developed spasms that seem to be rolling from one limb to another.

"I don't want to die with a bunch of strangers surrounding me. Dolores, Copperbottom, and Bulstrode will not grieve for my death; they will just celebrate it. I don't want to die alone."

Someone is trying to pull me off the floor; however, I make a weak gesture to brush the hand away from me. I am too tired to fight anymore when I am set on the bed. Someone is holding me and another is pouring something down my throat. I feel everything just fade into nothing.

I assume that it is morning as I wake up. I am coming to the realization that I have no control over the situation. I have no idea what is to happen to me. I hate not knowing what is going on, and this has come back to bite me in the rear more than once.

I have been lying here in the dark for the hours thinking about my choices in this situation. I find I am moving from a feeling of fear to one of extreme anger.

"If Dolores shows up, she had better hope I am restrained, because I wring her thick neck."

I start to drift off due to boredom; however, I can hear muffled voices coming from the other side of my door. The argument is quickly heating up, because I can recognize the participants. The voices grow louder as the door opens; however, it is pulled shut again with a slam.

"Someone just make up your mind. Are you going to bother me, or just give me a headache?"

Finally, someone seems to have won the "Battle of Slamming Doors," and the door stays ajar. I decide to just pretend to be asleep, because this is rather interesting.

"There is a reason why the door is locked, and it says No Visitors Allowed, Dolores," Bulstrode says quietly.

"Sorry Bulstrode, reading is not a qualification required for a Junior Undersecretary. Stupidity is a must, but literacy is not part of the job description."

"Don't start with me, Augusta. You will be cleaning bed pans in the "Spell Damage" ward if you screw up again," Dolores says in a loud whisper.

"Dolores has the diplomacy skills of a forest fire."

"How was I supposed to know that someone would be looking for her after the search was called off?" Bulstrode asks. "All I did was ask for a few medications from downstairs. How was I supposed to know someone would be looking for that?"

"Who is still looking for me?"

"If you want something, you need to get it from me, got it," Dolores dictates. "Just keep her here until I can decide what to do. I was not expecting this problem." Dolores sounds flustered. "Her parents and Remus Lupin have filed an inquiry about seeing the note that was found with the watch."

"Dolores, let's go talk somewhere else. I don't want to wake her up; Eleanor has been a handful since she was brought here. I am worried seeing you might cause another anxiety attack," Bulstrode says, as the door shuts again.

"Please come and find me before Dolores makes a decision I will regret."