Rumored Nervous Breakdown

Today, I am sitting in front of a group of third year Slytherin students who are just as restless as a group of Gryffindor fifth years. This school is about to crumble down around our ears due to Dolores's iron grip. My students are focused on the lesson, but there is this horrible under current of discontent. There is one student in the front row that seems to be falling apart at the seams.

Ursula Stanhope is not the most stellar of students; however, she is polite and hard-working. I have noticed her withdrawing further and further away from her classmates not only during class but during other activities at school. During the past few days, she has been coming to class looking quite pale and with eyes showing obvious signs of tears.

"Ursula, could you please stay behind for just a few minutes?" I ask her quietly before she can exit.

"I'm sorry about daydreaming again, Professor," she states while looking towards the floor. She seems to be close to tears again. "I guess I am going to get detention with you, too. I got in trouble during Potions, because I was not paying attention, and I burned myself," she explains, showing me a hand with a thick bandage on it.

"Ursula, you are not in trouble with me," I tell her, picking up her chin so that she will look at me. "I am just a little worried about you. Is there anything you want to talk about, because I am willing to listen."

"It's just stupid kid stuff. It doesn't matter," she says quietly.

"I don't see this as 'stupid kid stuff.' If it is enough to bother you this much, I don't find it stupid."

"I miss my friends from my other classes. My friend, Georgia, is in Hufflepuff, and I got in trouble with Professor Umbridge, because I was told not to associate with students from another house. She said that my family would not approve with my choice of friends. Georgia is my best friend so why is it wrong to be with her?" Tears rolling down her eyes are dripping onto her silver and green tie; I give her a tissue to stem the flow.

"I see nothing wrong with your choice of friends. I had close friends from different houses when I went here. In fact, your aunt was in Slytherin also. We were in the same study group for our N.E.W.T.s. If it weren't for that study group, I would have never made it into Auror training."

I feel a pang of sadness remembering that Ursula's aunt was an early victim of Voldemort's wrath. Her husband tried to pull away from the Death Eater movement early on; however, he and Rose were murdered brutally in their home. I remember being one of the first Aurors to arrive and see the Dark Mark leering down on what was left of their home.

"Professor?" I hear Ursula ask, bringing me back to the present. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what? You haven't done anything wrong."

"I am sorry about what the other kids said about you. You aren't the horrible monster everyone says about you. I didn't know that you really cared. My other teachers never ask about my feelings."

"Hem, hem." I hear that all too familiar guttural noise coming from the door of the classroom. "Ursula, you have been told that when you are not in class or eating in the Great Hall, you are to stay in your common room!" Dolores screeches.

"But, I wanted to ask Professor..." Ursula is cut off in mid-sentence by Dolores.

"Your parents are among the most influential families in the country. If they knew about whom you are conversing with, your father would be outraged," Dolores chides, pulling the poor child out of the room into the hallway, and ordering her to remain outside the classroom.

Dolores steps back into the classroom and promptly slams the door; she looks like she is about to hit me with an Unforgivable Curse. I have pulled out my wand to defend myself in case of an attack.

"Eleanor! How dare you carry on a conversation with a student who is a member of such an influential family!" Dolores shrieks from her position by the door. "Who knows what damage you can cause to the Stanhope family reputation? You are clearly violating a directive about interactions with a student."

"Dolores, heaven forbid that I should speak to a child in my own classroom! I thought my job description entailed using speech to teach my students; however, judging from your teaching technique, you lack this capability. What if Ursula is looking at the business end of the wand? I can put Slinkhard's entire textbook procedures into three simple steps when confronting a homicidal Death Eater: first stop, second, bend over, and thirdly, kiss your arse good-bye!" I am totally outraged, and I would love cursing her into oblivion.

"You are obviously unbalanced, and I should have just left you in that ward to die after Severus's potions ran out."

"Dolores, what the hell are you saying?"

"I had to do something, because there would be the messy affair after your body was found within the walls of St. Mungo's. I told Dawlish just to leave you somewhere for someone to find your body, but I was not expecting some Muggle hospital." She seems very pleased with herself as she crosses the room and points her wand like she is ready to cast a spell.

I point my wand directly at her heart, and she stops in her tracks in shock that I would draw my wand on her. "Stay away from me, Dolores! Fortunately, I learn from my mistakes!" I shout pointedly.

"I have a better weapon than some spell; I have ruined your reputation and health. There will be nowhere for you to go. I heard what the Healer said about you, and I just need to wait for you to have a tragic heart attack in some isolated part of the school. By the way, I know it is just a matter of time before I find those papers, and I will keep searching until I find them. I have plenty of resources," she says with an icy stare that turns my blood cold. She lowers her wand while she steps back toward the door and says, "You don't have it in you to hurt someone, so I am not worried about some unbalanced whore who thinks she stands a chance against the Ministry." She walks out the door and slams it behind her.

It takes me a moment to lower my wand, and I find my legs have turned to jelly; I am forced to sit down in my chair to gather my thoughts. My predictions have come true about Dolores. I have lived life, and death does not scare me; however, students like Ursula are caught in Dolores's expanding spiral of psychosis.

"It is only a matter of time before she turns that stubby wand on a student to use an Unforgivable Curse as a punishment. Who will be the first?"

I find myself wandering back to my quarters in a bit of a daze. Dolores's disclosure about how I ended up at St. Mark's caught me a bit off guard. I figured it would have been someone like Copperbottom who removed me. I am sure Dawlish did not mind the task; I remember him as dancing right on the edge of the law from my days in Internal Affairs.

Daisy is overjoyed to see me walk through the door, and I notice she has a bright orange tennis ball in her mouth. Someone gave it to her, but it was not me. I pull it from her mouth as she growls angrily at me. I decide to check it for curses and poisons, but I cannot find anything wrong with the fuzzy orange orb. I figure she has been playing with it for a while, and she seems to be unharmed. I throw it hard into the bedroom; Daisy runs wildly after it towards the closet.

A plain envelope catches my attention as I walk towards my over-stuffed club chair. Inside, I discover a single piece of paper torn from a very old book. As I read it, I find myself breaking out into goose flesh.

I Watched Thee

I watched thee when the foe was at our side
Ready to strike at him, or thee and me
Were safety hopeless rather than divide
Aught with one loved, save love and liberty.

I watched thee in the breakers when the rock
Received our prow and all was storm and fear
And bade thee cling to me through every shock
This arm would be thy bark or breast thy bier.

I watched thee when the fever glazed thine eyes
Yielding my couch, and stretched me on the ground
When overworn with watching, ne'er to rise
From thence, if thou an early grave hadst found.

The Earthquake came and rocked the quivering wall
And men and Nature reeled as if with wine
Whom did I seek around the tottering Hall
For thee, whose safety first provide for thine.

And when convulsive throes denied my breath
The faintest utterance to my fading thought
To thee, to thee, even in the grasp of death
My spirit turned. Ah! oftener than it ought.

Thus much and more, and yet thou lov'st me not,
And never wilt, Love dwells not in our will
Nor can I blame thee, though it be my lot
To strongly, wrongly, vainly, love thee still.

--Lord Byron

"Is there someone watching me here at school? Who is watching me all the time and sending me copies of creepy love poetry? I hope it's not Filch, because I will drown myself in the lake!"

The entire poem reads like a blow-by-blow account of the winter holiday in hell. My first instinct is to throw it into the fire or give it to Daisy to shred, but I cannot bring myself to putting the faded page back into the envelope; I place the gift in my copy of "The Raven."

I spend tonight with this unshakable feeling of being watched all the time. I am more paranoid now than when I had all those breakdowns. Even my exhaustion is not allowing me to seek rest.

This morning's third year class is breaking my heart. Ursula looks even worse than usual, and I feel that Dolores is playing a role. The poor child looks as though she has not slept all night. Although she seems to be participating in today's lesson, her heart is someplace else.

The bell rings for lunch, and I need to find out what is really wrong with this poor child before it spirals out of control.

Ursula is packing up her things, and I see that her classmates have left her behind. She is walking very slowly out of the room. Before Ursula can make it to the threshold, she stops to face me to say, "Professor, I need to talk to someone who understands what I am going through." I can see there is a torrent of misery about to be unleashed.

"Does this have anything to do with yesterday?" I ask quietly. "I heard you say that you wanted to ask me something, but you were rather rudely interrupted." I motion her to one of the desks in the front row, and I sit down next to her. "What were you trying to ask me?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something that happened over the holidays, because you are the only person who could understand this," she discusses, picking at invisible bits of lint on her robes. "The day after I came home when the holidays started, Mum found me on the bathroom floor having some sort of fit, and she took me to St. Mungo's. This is a bit embarrassing..." She breaks off to wipe the tears off of her cheeks, and I hand her a tissue.

"Ursula, were you told it was epilepsy?" I ask quietly. "I can tell you that it is not the end of the world."

"I am afraid I will have a fit in front of everyone. What will they think of me?" she asks, looking at the floor.

"My friends were not sure how to handle it at first, but we talked about it," I tell her, but I don't think she believes me. "What does Georgia have to say about this?" I ask.

"Professor Umbridge told my parents that no one should know about this, because it could embarrass the family name," Ursula says quietly. "She told my father that I just need a good dose of detentions to force them to go away."

"Hem, hem," the grunt echoes down the hallway.

"I think it's time for you to go before Professor Umbridge realizes you are here. I am always here for you, and my door is always open for you to talk when you need me," I tell her, getting on my feet to figure out which hallway Dolores is headed down.

I manage to show Ursula a back way as a short cut to the Great Hall; however, Dolores gives another cough, and I realize she has turned into the opposite direction.

When I enter the Great Hall for lunch, Dolores is looking at me in an icy stare. I wonder if she caught wind that I talked to Ursula without her being there.

Ursula is sitting at her house table looking very pale and uncomfortable. I resign to keep a closer eye on her from now on. I don't feel like seeing a repeat performance of my childhood taking place before my eyes. I had friends to talk to, Madam Pomfrey to repair the injuries from a sudden seizure, and sympathetic parents; however, I lacked the guidance of a trusted adult who understood what I was going through. I am not going to let another child endure this disorder on her own.

By some bizarre quirk in my schedule, I have one afternoon free per week, and I am making full use of it. I have notified the concerned parties that we need to meet about one of the students, and I found out what Ursula's schedule is for on Thursdays; I am going to walk past the Dark Arts classroom to take a quick look into the room without Dolores seeing me.

As I sneak down the corridor outside of Dolores's classroom, I could hear a pin drop outside her classroom; however, I hear Dolores shout out suddenly, "Ursula, I told you to pay attention!" followed by, "One week's detention and I am writing your parents!"

There is a titter of laughter coming from somewhere in the classroom; I fight the urge of running in there to the poor child's rescue.

"Ursula! Lying on the ground having a tantrum is not allowable, and I am ordering you to stand up!" Dolores voice is growing angrier and angrier. I realize I must intervene, because I know something is very wrong.

Walking into the unwelcoming classroom, I see Ursula on the ground convulsing while Dolores continues to shout at the poor child to get up off of the floor; however, Ursula is powerless to help herself.

I find the students are standing around in a circle looking at her convulsing violently on the floor in front of them. I know that feeling of shame after waking up, and I refuse to allow this child to experience the pain.

Pushing through the crowd of students, I ask Holly Perkins and Abigail Marsh to find Poppy and Severus. I have the girls earlier in the day, and I know they are reliable.

"Dolores, why don't you do something?" I ask, kneeling down on the floor over Ursula. I do not wait for a reply, because I know Dolores will not accept something is out of control in her presence. "Class dismissed!" I shout to the students, who looked shocked but they quickly comply. I point my wand towards the door and slam it shut on some curious students standing outside attempting to watch the drama unfold.

"Eleanor, how dare you..." Dolores says sharply. "You do not have the authority to barge in here while I am handling a classroom situation. She was just being difficult."

I am ignoring Dolores, because I have a bigger problem lying before me on the floor. This is the first time I have ever seen a seizure from the "outside." I just hope I will never see one again. With every muscle contraction, her head is repeatedly hitting the floor, and I relive the times I have woken up to badly bruised limbs. Ursula's skin has taken on a bluish hue as the seizure drags on. I know that I can only keep her from injuring herself further, and I realize how desperate it must feel to wait for the victim to come out of it. Because of my shock, I have to force myself to concentrate on Ursula by pulling her tie away before she strangles herself.

Ursula's convulsions have stopped. Dolores takes this as a cue to start in on the poor child, "Ursula, enough is enough, now get off the floor."

"Shut it, Dolores," I whisper, attempting not to disturb Ursula. I have my arms around her and rock her quietly like Poppy did so many times when I was a child. I always found it comforting when someone was there making the fear and embarrassment go away.

"Eleanor, you have contaminated a child of a very influential family in the Ministry," Dolores says indignantly. "She has been infected by your unbalanced mind."

"She is not a pedigreed pet, Dolores; she is a thirteen year-old child with some health issues," I whisper back to her in annoyance, but I refuse to look at her while I respond. I have become preoccupied with stemming the flow of blood running from Ursula's nose. I know using any spell or charm when she is like this can set her off into another round of seizures.

I really wish Poppy would show up soon, because I am finding difficulty in holding back my temper. Ursula has started sobbing and there are fears of Dolores shouting at her again. I have been whispering soothing words, but I know the tears are not from emotion; they are just a nasty side effect of waking up.

I barely perceive the door opening, and I do not realize that Severus and Poppy have made it down to rescue the pair of us from Dolores.

"Nell, what happened?" Poppy asks quietly, squatting down to examine the still sobbing child. I make a motion letting her know that Ursula needs more time to calm down and wake-up.

"I came in to the classroom to find her convulsing, and Dolores was accusing her of having a tantrum; she even gave her detention." I glare towards Dolores's direction. I glance at my watch and estimate the length of time the episode lasted and tell her, "It was about two minutes from the time I came in until it stopped."

Severus bends down to indicate he wants to carry her to the Hospital Wing himself, but I instinctively hold her a bit tighter. I don't think he expected this reaction.

"Eleanor, I need you to give her to me. She is my problem now," he says, prying my fingers off of her arm. There is no anger or accusation of insanity in his tone of voice. He cradles her in his arms and sets off for the Hospital Wing.

Poppy is walking behind Severus, and she turns to me and Dolores asking us to come upstairs to give further details about what happened. I cannot wait to confront Dolores in front of witnesses, because she will be unable to deny my accusations.

We are waiting in a small waiting room down the hall from her office. This is a room my parents knew too well, and I hope that Ursula's father, Aden, does not face this process.

Dolores, Severus, and I sit in silence while waiting for Poppy to come back to discuss what happened. I have decided not to start an argument when I believe I am outnumbered two to one.

Poppy walks in with a chart informing us that Ursula is sleeping and will be fine in a few hours. She informs me that Ursula has asked for me, but Poppy told her I would need to come back later on in the evening.

Since Dolores was the only adult in the classroom when the seizure started, Poppy starts with her. I am hoping she will 'fess up' to her attempt to cover up her awareness of Ursula's holiday visit to St. Mungo's. Unlike Slughorn in my fifth year, she gives a convoluted, glossed-over account of the incident.

I finally cannot take it anymore as I say, "Tell the truth, Dolores. I know about what happened over the holidays with Ursula. Don't you even attempt to deny this, because Ursula told me what happened this morning after class."

"Didn't I tell you not to discuss anything with the students other than your content areas? I forbade you to discuss matters with Ursula yesterday," Dolores barks. "She is a Stanhope, and her family is very influential in the community; you are calling her defective. All she needs is a few detentions for not paying attention to her teachers. That display was just some sort of tantrum. I cannot believe that you have dismissed my class without permission."

I turn to face Poppy and Severus to state, "Ursula told me about a seizure she had the day after she came home for the holidays. Her mother took her to St. Mungo's, but Dolores told them to keep Ursula's condition a secret so as not to damage the family reputation."

"Dolores, is this true?" Poppy inquires, her face reddening with every passing second. "You are lucky she did not hurt herself, and to think this was the cause of all those mishaps this year."

Severus has been ominously silent, but he manages to say, "Professor Umbridge, I believe it is imperative I contact her parents seeing my role as her head of house." He seems to be angry about his role being derailed by Dolores's political games.

"That silly girl should understand her role as an example of a fine family participating in the processes of the Ministry," Dolores interjects, attempting to justify her actions.

"Once more, Dolores, you have placed an adult role on a child who should not be forced to bear it at such a young age. She does not understand complicated politics or the consequences for not playing along with games better left to her elders." I walk over to her to glare down at her in my anger. She is just under ten inches shorter than me, and I just want to remind her of that.

"You have no idea about how a child in our community is expected to behave. Your reputation is an example of this," she shrieks, her face reddening in anger.

Severus and Poppy are not interceding in the argument. I guess they figure I have a handle on the situation as I say, "I find a perfect example of your treatment of children who are stakeholders in this community. I believe a trial for underage magic against a fifteen-year-old Potter being treated like a capital offence is a case in point. You are giving adult consequences to children who lack understanding the chain of events for their actions. I saw the memos circulating around the office; there were a total of three changes made in the trial location; however, none of the notifications agreed on time. Maybe you need to have a chat with Percy, because he seems to lack the ability to read a clock." I am on a roll and continue with, "Potter is just a child! Your need for control and keeping secrets is going to get someone killed one day. I cannot wait until Aden Stanhope finds out your politics could have gotten his only daughter killed!" I am now shaking with rage, and I want to curse her. I feel a hand on my shoulder seeming to hold me back. I turn to knock it away, and I realize the headmaster is standing right behind me.

"Professor Howard, I believe I can take it from here," he says quietly. I storm out of the room as he takes charge of the situation. I am feeling that cooler heads might better handle the situation.

I retreat to the safety and quiet of my quarters just so I can clear my head. Daisy comes running over to me when I open the door carrying that stupid orange ball; however, it is now missing most of its fuzzy skin from her enthusiasm of playing with it. She drops it at my feet, and I find a certain satisfaction throwing her ball into the bedroom repeatedly and running it back to me.

Finally, Daisy has run out of steam, and we settle on the couch staring at a roaring fire. I find myself struggling to stay awake. I think the adrenalin rush from dressing Dolores down in front of the staff took too much energy.

I am startled from a light doze by Daisy's bark reverberating around the room. It takes me a minute to get my head together and stumble to the door. As I open the door, I realize Aden Stanhope, his wife, Elizabeth, and Dumbledore are standing out in the hallway.

"Professor Howard, Ursula's parents, Aden and Elizabeth, wish to have a word with you about the incident in Professor Umbridge's classroom," Dumbledore says with a tone of voice betraying little emotion.

I invite them to sit down; however, Daisy is attempting to butt into the conversation with her continued barking. I don't want to use a silencing charm, because she is only guarding her territory. It takes me a moment or two to shut her behind a barrier used to confine Muggle children.

Aden is a very vocal Ministry employee who wields a great deal of power through the Department of Revenue and Taxation. He is infamous for his audits of employees who have been problematic in the past. I have been fortunate not to have any run-ins with him. I am a bit unnerved as he walks in wearing his trademark pinstripe robes and spats.

"How may I help you?" I ask uncertainly.

"I see you are enjoying yet another leisurely occupation, Eleanor," Aden says stiffly, turning a ring on his hand absent mindedly. He normally does this when he is faced with social situations. "I wish to address your social interaction with my daughter. There are a few things that concern me."

"If Dolores has the diplomacy skills of a forest fire, Aden's ability is slightly higher at the level of a drunken troll."

I cut in with, "You have a wonderful daughter who is feeling very lonely and isolated by not only her condition, but by her social connections. She wants to be loved and accepted, but the adults in her life are preventing this. She should not be exposed to games best left to the adults and the resulting consequences."

"You have always been intervening in situations that do not concern you, and I have always find it quite annoying; however, this time I believe your purpose is in the best interest of Ursula," he says with a warmer tone of voice, no longer twisting his ring on his finger.

Elizabeth reaches out to me and takes my hand leaving me a bit shocked. She has always been a bit cold in her manner. We called her "The Ice Princess" at work behind Aden's back.

"Ursula told us how she remembers you sitting on the floor holding her while Madam Umbridge was arguing with you. She also explained you spent some time discussing how she felt about the incident over the holidays," Elizabeth says, sniffling and taking out a pink monogrammed handkerchief from her elegant dragon skin hand bag. "Madam Pomfrey explained how dangerous it is to ignore our daughter's health. We were so foolish."

"My parents were a bit clueless how to respond to my seizures, but they gave me unconditional support despite their lack of knowledge," I tell her, taking my hand out of her grasp. I feel a bit odd allowing someone who told me off last year for having such unfashionable attire at work to hold my hand like a long lost relative.

"I believe you will find no objections for spending some time helping my daughter to work through this situation. I appreciate the effort you have gone to for her," Aden says, twisting his ring again.

"Then there should be no problem with Ursula spending time with her friend in Hufflepuff. Ursula needs to be around someone her own age with similar interests," I discuss, hoping he will not say no.

"I am not sure about how I feel about her friend, but we will discuss this at another time." He is twisting his ring leaving an angry red circle around his finger. "I believe we need to go home."

I grab the legal pad and self-inking quill on my coffee table to write down some contact details for my parents. They may be Muggles, but they understand how epilepsy is handled from a parent's point of view.

"Send my parents an owl if you need to talk to someone who has managed the mine field of adolescence and epilepsy. They are Muggles, but they are very familiar with owl post. Please contact me when you wish to discuss any concerns," I inform them, not knowing if they will take me up on the offer.

Our meeting has broken up, and I must say good-bye to my company. Aden and Elizabeth are leaving with Dumbledore to go home. As the Headmaster closes the door, he gives me a slight wink and a whispered thank you.

Dumbledore left with the Stanhopes about an hour ago, and I realize that Ursula must be awake by now; I don't want to break Poppy's promise that I would return later.

I walk through the doors of the Hospital Wing, and I see Ursula lying on a familiar bed waiting for me to show up. She is excited by my visit, but I cannot figure out if this is due to our new-found mentorship, or the box of Chocolate Frogs in my hand.

We spend the better part of fifteen minutes discussing her feelings on what happened this afternoon, and how to handle any possible fallout. I explain the difficulty of dealing with the initial jibes and teasing from her classmates. I remind her about the shortness of the memory of the average teenager. It may seem like forever, but they will find someone else to dine out on.

Madam Pomfrey kicks me out after the normal twenty minute time limit. I know hanging out any further would be pointless, because it is nearly time for evening medication. Ursula will be unconscious before long. Tomorrow is Saturday, so I can spend more time with Ursula after I meet with Rupert.

When I arrive back into my parlor, Daisy is still behind her barrier, but she suddenly scurries under the bed and whines loudly. I am puzzled by her behavior, but my concern is cut short by the lanterns in the room going out at the same time.

"Who's there?" I inquire in near panic. "Show yourself, you coward!" I pull out my wand to shed some light into the room; everything is casting long, eerie shadows. There is a loud thump, and I think I hear someone very close to me. I am ready to curse the first thing that might appear out of the dark.

There is another loud bang, and I shout, "Come on, Dolores, enough games. You have been rearranging my possessions for months, you don't need to hide yourself."

I shine a light towards the source of the noise located around the fireplace. I realize the fire has been extinguished, but I can see the faint outline of someone; however, it is too tall to be Dolores. I refuse to be the victim anymore and throw a curse at the outline. The purple light is almost blinding as bricks fly across the room with a resounding bang. There is a cry of pain, and I aim for the source of the sound. I throw another curse towards its source; the wall behind the silhouette erupts into purple flame. I feel the force of gravity suddenly lifted, and I am thrown across the room into a table; I hear a loud snap coming from my right shoulder. My wand slides out of my hand, but I hurts too bad to roll over to pick it up.

"You idiot, I thought you said no one would be coming back!" one voice shouts in frustration, moving towards my location behind the over-turned table. "Did you find the book and notes? The Boss said they would be in here."

"I found a book with notes in the margins and some parchment folded in it." The second voice seems very pleased with himself as he reignites the fire in the fireplace, casting some light into the room.

I cannot see what the men look like, because the over-turned table is blocking my view. I am holding back the urge to scream in pain. I can hear them walking closer to the table. I can smell stale whiskey and tobacco in the room becoming stronger.

"Looks like she winged you," the second voice says with a tone of amusement.

"That bloody bitch burned my arm! You didn't get off easy either. I can see she has removed the hair from the back side of your head," the voice counters his friend's jibes. "Where is she, anyway?"

"She is probably behind that table," the second man says. "Let's go so we can get this back to the Boss. I don't feel like sitting in that god-awful office being grilled about being late."

"I want a little payback from that bitch for cursing me," one of the men growls. I can hear him stomping towards the table. I close my eyes hoping he will think I am knocked out. "Found you," he whispers menacingly. "So many curses and so little time."

"I think she's dead." The smell of stale whiskey is almost unbearable as someone grabs my wrist for what I assume is a pulse. "No, still breathing. Put your wand away, we don't have time for this. We got what we came for."

"What do they want with some moldy books with scribbles in the margins?"

I open my eyes when someone bangs on the door and demands entry. I realize one of the intruders is still bending over me. I cannot trust they will leave on their own without cursing me. I manage to kick the man in the face hard with a satisfying sound of my shoe contacting his skin. He shouts, raises his wand, and quickly puts it away when the front door is blown off the hinges. There are horrible stabbing sensations in my shoulder as I scream in pain from the movement of my body when I struck him. Suddenly, the room is filled with an eerie green light.

"Nell!" Dumbledore shouts. "What happened in here?"

Someone is righting the table which is blocking me from view. I realize that it is Rupert, but I notice his face is badly bruised. "Over here!" He is attempting to sit me up; however, I scream again when he touches my shoulder; I find myself in hysterical sobs when he lets go. "I tried to get here to warn you, but I could not make it soon enough," he says apologetically. "They broke into my office to find some papers about you, but they cursed me when I told them I don't understand what they wanted." Rupert is stroking my head with tears welling up in his eyes. "The men told me they were coming after you for some papers when they did not find what they wanted."

"Osgood, you fool. Stand aside before you make things worse," Severus says, stepping up to Rupert shoving him violently out of the way. "Make yourself useful and find Poppy." Severus pulls the objects that fell from the table off of my body and grabs a blanket.

"Daisy?" I ask, but I cannot articulate what I wanted to ask. My shoulder is really hurting me, and I find myself really getting tired; my eyes are refusing to stay open.

"Your furry Bludger is just fine." He almost says it in a kind way; there is no edginess in his voice.

"Where's Dumbledore," I speak, slurring my words horribly.

"He is looking to some security measures for you," Severus informs me, but his voice fades away. I am jolted back to semi-consciousness by him shouting my name. "Eleanor, wake-up, you stupid woman!"

I am exhausted by the horrible pain in my shoulder, and I just let go of any will to stay awake.