Rumored Nervous Breakdown

Coming back to the school feels quite surreal in a way. I know that this place is familiar, but it just does not seem to be home anymore. I am back in my old "home" in the school, and it has not changed a bit since that night when Dolores attacked me here. There are only two things missing: Daisy and the bloody bottle that started this chain of events.

With all the crap going on in this place, Daisy will be staying with my parents. I keep expecting her to run up to the door to greet me. At least at my parents', she can run around in a fenced in yard; Dolores is on a rampage, and the poor animal does not need to become a victim of her wrath again.

There is a sharp knock on the door, bringing me to the present. As I open it, I see that Charity has come to welcome me back with enthusiasm and plan how we are going to handle the classes. Dumbledore feels that Charity and I should share classes, collaborate on teaching styles, and classroom routine. If Trelawney is ever reinstated, I wonder what will happen to the Divination classes. I guess she and Firenze will have to split up the classes between them.

Charity and I didn't get a chance to really know each other until today. She is very young and enthusiastic about the subject she is teaching; however, she seems oblivious to the present climate of anti-Muggle policies being pushed forth by the Ministry. She reminds me of a female version of Arthur Weasley.

"Charity, I have always been the type to give my view of the world without regard to the consequences. I want you to be very careful around Dolores. I don't want you in the same situation that I am in." I can't give her the full story, because I am not sure who I can trust around here.

Her face clouds over with concern. "I know Dolores is constantly dragging me into the office for tea and asking questions. You don't think...?"

"All I can tell you is to not meet with her one on one, especially when she offers you a beverage," I inform her, understanding that sharing any private details would be a mistake. "I would watch your back from now on."

"Nell, Dolores has been telling some of the staff that you tried to kill yourself a few weeks ago. Did you really end up in the Psychiatric Ward?" she inquires sheepishly.

"I am not going to tell you a lie, this was an unfortunate accident taken out of context. I fell after blacking out and tried to pull myself up by using the table, but the table cloth slipped, knocking a bottle to the floor. I did end up in that ward, but I was moved when the Healers discovered evidence of a heart attack. Actually, it seems I had at least three this year without realizing it." I think this is just enough information right now.

"I need to tell you about little Ursula. She has completely fallen apart. The other teachers see her becoming more and more isolated everyday. When I ask her about it, she excuses herself from the classroom." Charity is concerned about the behavior of her student, and I have to admire her ability to observe this when no one else did. "She had a fit during my class, and I sent everyone to the library, so no one would see it. Dolores told me it was a tantrum, but it wasn't. I paid for sending the kids out. Dolores kept coming into the classroom to make sure my students weren't sent out."

With everything out in the open, I think Charity and I can work with each other until the end of the school year. I need her to understand there is more going on here at the school than she realizes. She is not savvy enough to pick up on the little games being played by everyone. There is some level of distrust between all staff members, and the new administration is not helping matters. This is what they want. Isolate each teacher and pick them off one by one.

This morning is my first class with the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students, because I have more experience in the Muggle world. Charity is probably going to take over my position when I leave this horrible situation. She would like to work with the third and fourth years to allow them to move along with her teaching methods from the ground up.

This class contains fifth year Slytherin and Hufflepuff students, and I am really feeling self- conscious about my absence. So, I make it my first objective to clear the air about what took place during my leave sans the Dolores part. I discover most of the students were aware this was not a suicide attempt. The Slytherin students inform me that Severus explained about how I was ill and at St. Mungo's, putting to rest rumors that may have been floating around; however, I don't think everyone in his house believes this.

Lunch has rolled around very quickly. The first thing I do is to look for Ursula and find out how she is doing. I sense she is avoiding my eye for some reason. I think I will find a way to speak to her in private. I wonder if she feels like I have abandoned her in some way. Charity probably wouldn't mind sending her to see me during class this afternoon.

I am trying to figure out how I am going to broach this subject as I sit in my office. Before I can really rehearse some sort of speech, there is a timid knock at the door.

"Professor, you wanted to see me?" Ursula inquires.

I motion her to come in and sit down, but she hesitates at the door as if I have asked her to sit on a chair laden with nails. "How have you been doing? I heard from Professor Sprout you are having some episodes during class." She looks reluctant to answer me. I think she may feel as if I have abandoned her. "Tell me how you feel about what is going on. Forget for a moment that I am your teacher."

Ursula looks down at her feet, unsure about something. When she finally raises her gaze to meet mine, she says, "You abandoned me." She looks frustrated and angry with tears rolling down her cheeks. "You weren't here to talk to. One of my friends told me she overheard Professor Umbridge say you had lost your mind, and she found you on the floor after overdosing on medication. She said you had done it over a boyfriend who caught you cheating. Are you really going to have a baby?" she inquires, reddening in the face as it dawns on her this is a very private matter.

I hand her a tissue to dry her eyes. "Yes, I was lying on the floor when Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape found me after having a heart attack," I say pointedly, hoping this will rid her of any doubts; however, I see the damage has been done. "I saw your Head of House at least every day while I was at St. Mungo's." I suddenly realize how much effort he took to see me on a daily basis. What he was getting out of it is a mystery to me. "So, there was no suicide attempt, jealous boyfriend, and I am certainly not pregnant."

"I'm sorry. I just heard..." She trails off, looking towards the ground.

"Don't be sorry. You cannot believe everything you hear. I wanted to come back to see you as soon as I could, but it took a while before I was well enough to leave," I tell her gently, but she doesn't look up.

"My friend said she heard something else. Professor Umbridge said this was not the first time that you tried to kill yourself; this was your third attempt," Ursula says timidly, unable to look up again. She seems to be embarrassed, but she deserves an honest answer.

"Ursula, look at me," I order her gently. "The part about attempting suicide twice before is true. I was a mixed-up kid without an adult who could understand me. The teachers didn't understand how depressed a teenager can get. The second time was after an attack when I was protecting Minister Fudge from a Death Eater. I lost my best friend that day, and I could not cope with the physical pain as well as my grief. I didn't know how to ask for help. I envy you a bit."

"You envy me?" she inquires, lifting her gaze in astonishment.

"I wouldn't have tried to ask a teacher about my problems, but you did. I could not understand that an adult would really want to deal with me. I also envy the fact you kept pursuing help even though Professor Umbridge so rudely interrupted you." Ursula looks like she is finally regaining her trust for me. "I know how it is to worry about sitting in a classroom, waiting for a seizure to hit and the embarrassment of finding that this has happened in public. It happened to me one year. I lost complete control and wet myself."

"I don't want that to happen. How would I face everyone's teasing?" she inquires.

"The more down trodden you get, the more other students will pick on you. I hated that my teachers told me that I should ignore it; however, they were not living in my shoes. Just talk about it to someone. When people isolate you, the easier it is to destroy everything you call dear. Promise me you won't do that."

"I won't. It's just that you weren't there, and I felt that killing yourself was selfish; I was very angry at you." She still seems a bit confused, but one little talk is not going to solve this problem instantly.

"What happened a few weeks ago was a horrible accident. There is always someone who finds delight in making up stories to make them self seem more powerful or moral." I want to scream it was Dolores's fault for spreading the rumor, but that is inappropriate for a child to hear. "Ursula, I think there is more we need to say; however, I need to get you back to class. I don't want to step on Professor Burbage's toes."

As I hand her the note, she tells me, "Thanks for being honest with me." She retreats toward the door without another word.

Dolores has called her normal meeting this morning, and I enter the room to find Dolores and Minerva staring each other down like two alley cats fighting over territory. When I find a seat, both sets of eyes turn my way, and the confrontation ends.

Dolores takes advantage of the fact that she cannot be harmed by a jinx from the restraining order. "Eleanor, it's so good to see you up and about this morning. Too bad you won't be with us much longer," she whispers menacingly, taking her normal position next to the boggart-infested wardrobe. "Everyone will miss you so much when you are gone."

I don't know if this is a threat against my life, or her idea of sarcasm about my leaving at the end of the term. For my sake, I am defaulting to the idea of her threatening my life.

She really hits a nerve with me while discussing loyalty to the Ministry and inappropriate behaviors of the students and staff. Every time she wants to make a point about behavior, she turns her head, staring at me. I can feel all eyes in the room straying in my direction. I want to tell her to stop looking at me like that, but I know it will just call more attention to me.

I am the first one out the door after we have finished. I secretly want to stay behind and leave after Minerva just to watch the jinx take effect; however, I know that Minerva will probably drag me out by the scruff of the neck out.

This afternoon, I am tired and quite grumpy. I long for the sanctuary of a hot bubble bath and a good book. Unfortunately, my hopes are dashed as Minerva walks into the door, announcing that Dolores has called another staff meeting in fifteen minutes. It is probably about some new stupid decree. I wonder if this one will be about breathing without permission.

As I walk into the staffroom door, I am bombarded with a shout of "Happy Birthday." I didn't check my calendar, so I really forgot it is the second of April. I don't know how I could be so dense. My middle name is on my office door, and Mum decided to name me after that month. I am so glad I was not born in November.

Most of the teachers from the academic areas are present, and Minerva tells me that Rupert has something special planned for Saturday afternoon. She hands me a short letter written in his flowing script.

Nell,

Please meet me in the Entrance Hall at noon for a luncheon at the Three Broomsticks. Don't worry; this is just a friendly meeting between two friends. I miss you very much and cannot wait to catch up on how things have been going. I have something very special that I want to give you for your birthday; it is something you should be very pleased about receiving.

Yours truly,

Rupert

I look over towards a corner of the room, and I see Severus standing apart from everyone else. He reminds me of a small child wanting to interrupt the adults talking, waiting politely to ask for something. I sincerely doubt he wants anything to do with the festivities; however, I am sure there will be some sarcastic comment awaiting me if he catches me alone.

I am having so much fun, because this is the first positive attention I have received from the others in a long time. As I look on the end of the table at the wrapped gifts, I see one in a plain brown wrapper. My heart sinks thinking about who it could possibly be from. I leave this one for last. I open it up, and it is a poetry book with the works of John Henry Dryden. There is no note or card identifying the giver, and no one present cares to claim the honor. My parents normally send sweets or a card. I blow off the confusion and get back to enjoying my party.

Suddenly, the room falls silent; the happy mood disappears with an abrupt explosion of the door. It flies open with such force, there is a hole cut into the wall from the hardware. Out in the hallway, Dolores glares at the celebration taking place without her approval.

Flitwick is the first person to speak, breaking the tension. "Sorry, we didn't know you wanted to come, or we would have saved you some cake." Everyone in the room waits for Dolores's next move.

"I told you that there were no meetings without me present!" she bellows, flushed in the face with anger.

"This isn't a staff meeting, Dolores. It's Nell's birthday. I didn't realize birthday parties were considered a discussion between the staff on academics." Minerva has a bit of cake still on her fork, and she takes a bite. This seems to inflame Dolores even more.

"Everyone should return to their quarters or duties this instant. Why you even waste any effort on this tart is beyond me." Dolores looks in my direction when using the word, "tart".

Minerva opens up her mouth to say something in my defense, but I cut her off by saying, "She's not worth the effort either." I stare coldly at Dolores. "I think I will just get some rest. Thanks for everything," I tell the room full of adults. I really don't want allow anyone else to be drawn into the games Dolores is playing with my life. It is just easier walk away and get into the bath waiting for me upstairs.

Rupert arrives on Saturday; standing near the front doors, he looks quite dashing in his new robes. He is grinning from ear to ear as I walk over to meet him.

It looks like rain, but I don't want to ruin the moment. As we are walking down the drive, he is making small talk about his new role as a partner in the law firm. I am so pleased with his success. He is no longer the misfit from Hufflepuff but a confident and talented man.

We are sitting at a table in the Three Broomsticks waiting to be served, and Rupert is still looking at me with that insufferable grin. I am glad he didn't pick a Hogsmeade weekend.

"Rupert, has someone hit you with a cheering charm? Why are you looking at me that way?" I inquire irritably.

"I have a special present just for you, Happy Birthday," he says cheerfully, handing me a thick envelope. "Read it," he urges.

I open the envelope, exploring the contents. It looks like a formal legal document saying:

Eleanor April Howard vs. Daily Prophet

I scan further down the page, passing most of the details of the case to find the ruling. My charge of libel has been upheld, and the Prophet has settled for 50,000 Galleons. I am beyond stunned.

Rupert leans over the table at me, and says, "The Prophet gave in when they decided that my constant litigation is costing them a fortune." He looks so thrilled. Is this because he won this case, or the fact he receives one third of the money? "This is enough to get you through retirement after you leave the school." He changes the subject with, "I heard about Umbridge breaking up your party earlier this week. I hope this is making up for it a bit," he says with a smile. "She is determined to crush any sort of joy and happiness that might come your way." His face falls as he continues with, "I heard she called you a 'tart' in front of your friends during the party, I'm sorry."

"I'm fine. Can we talk about something else?" I inquire, giving him a strained smile.

Before I can get another word out, there is an explosion of singing from a large birthday cake being delivered by Madam Rosemerta. I hate calling attention to myself; however, I am really enjoying the moment of having everyone in the room singing along with my dessert.

After lunch, I start to walk up the street towards the school, but Rupert doesn't follow me. In fact, he spins me around by the elbow, saying, "Oh, no you don't, Nell."

"Rupert!" I shout out of shock.

"Professor Howard, It's time you had a bit of fun." His eyes have that mischievous light to them again. He gives me a quick shove toward a Quidditch supply shop, laughing at my bemusement.

We amuse each other for half an hour with Rupert trying on bits of equipment, waiting for some sarcastic commentary from my end. Our laughing and carrying on turns a few heads, but I am not seeing looks of disgust. The elderly shop keeper sniggers at our jokes, thinking we can't hear him.

Rupert finds a small container of Snitches sitting in the corner of the shop. Each one carries a guaranteed homing charm, allowing for it to only fly a few feet from the individual playing with it. "Well, I know you are a bit old to play on a school Quidditch team, but it never hurts to have a bit of practice."

As we walk out of the shop, Rupert stops, stands in front of me, saying, "You know, I haven't heard you laugh in a long time. I missed it." He has started walking again, pulling the Snitch out of his pocket to challenge me to a game of "catch."

We visit a few shops, and he inclines his head toward Honeydukes. "I heard your mum say you had a weakness for pralines. I think there are some in here I think you would like."

"Rupert, have you been talking to my mum about the inner workings of my mind?" I ask suspiciously.

"What do pralines have to do about 'the inner workings of your mind'?" He seems genuinely oblivious to this quirk of mine.

"Rupert, I need you to promise me something, if Mum mentions anything about giving me pralines to cheer me up, please use a silencing charm on her and walk away quickly." As I snort at my own comment, I notice that the sky is now cloudless.

He shakes his head as if to clear it of this bizarre topic, and we continue walking around the village. The pair of us continue a game of catch with the Snitch as we walk around.

The sun is slowly fading into darkness as we re-enter the school grounds. Dolores is waiting by the front doors. She reminds me of a chimera about to strike. "I hope you didn't do anything to bring shame to the school?" she inquires.

Rupert takes out the Snitch, tosses it in the air with a wicked grin, and says, "That one, Madam High Inquisitor, falls under 'attorney-client privilege'."

The Snitch flies towards my direction, and Dolores takes a swat at it; however, she is way off target. I retrieve it from the air, much to her irritation.

"Rupert, thanks for such a lovely birthday present." I stride over, glance coldly at Dolores, and give him a friendly peck on the cheek as we say good-bye. She looks scandalized by this action. Rupert picks up on this and returns my sentiment with a hug. I hope to God she isn't nursing a crush on him. Poor Rupert would die of embarrassment if that ever came out.

As I watch him retreat towards the driveway of the school, I hear Dolores stomping away mumbling, "Whore."

Our usual ritual of a Monday meeting is right on schedule; however, Dolores seems to be acting a bit odd. I wish I could put my finger on it. She seems to be very satisfied about something. Charity is concerned as well, and we decide to meet in my office later on this evening while Dolores is occupied with the normal detention schedule.

It is now late evening, and Charity is asking so many trivial questions about the lifestyle of Muggles. I actually find this quite amusing. She is knowledgeable by Wizarding standards to teach, but she would have trouble functioning for an extended length of time without magic.

There is a flurry of sounds coming from the level upstairs; it sounds like all hell has broken out. Charity and I run up the stairs to see what is going on. Kingsley and Dawlish are on the hunt for someone. Dolores is shouting, "Where is he? He just can't Apparate out of here! Kingsley, check the grounds; Dawlish, I want you to search the dungeons, and I will check the Floo Network. Albus Dumbledore is finished!"

Minerva is rushing past me with a girl with pustules spelling out the word "sneak" on her forehead and Potter in tow. I attempt to follow in her wake, but I am distracted by Minister Fudge's voice. He looks very upset and disheveled as he tells Percy Weasley to draw up a declaration for Dolores to become headmistress of the school and to inform the Magical Law Enforcement office that Dumbledore is to be arrested on sight. They are to use what ever force is necessary to bring him in.

It feels like the world is crashing down upon me. What is going to stop Dolores now? We no longer have the Headmaster to buffer Dolores's attacks. I'm in grave danger, and there is nothing I can do about it now.