This is my first HP fanfic on here and if I get anything completely wrong, please tell me! This is just going to be a short little fic just for fun (short? Depends how define short). Please Review!
On with the show!
"He's waking up!" came Poppy's voice.
The faculty, who'd been milling outside the hospital wing in varying degrees of anxiety, jerked at the sound and then crowded into the hospital wing, to pass by the screen which separated a part of the room from where a couple of sick (and milking it) second years lay and a third year languished on his bed after stupidly drinking his own potion . After all the headmaster was a special case.
Minerva moved slightly to the right in order to see past Hagrid. Concern was etched on her face and when Sybil got in the way, she sighed in irritation and took another step to the right. She was very worried about Albus.
Everyone was. Even Severus, despite his best attempts to conceal any type of emotion, had a small glint of disquiet in his dark eyes. Although all of the teachers were confused, Severus was confused most of all. Minerva found herself feeling sorry for him.
The sable-haired man had had a short conversation with Albus a little before the incident. According to Severus, everything had seemed perfectly normal.
"He tortured me with hopeless requests, sherbet lemons and a vaguely dotty demeanour," were his exact words, Minerva remembered. "Afterwards, the annoying man twinkled at me until I told him to stop it and then he pretended not to know what I was talking about!"
Minerva would not have trusted the Potions Master's word on its own but she'd eaten lunch with Albus only a bit before Severus's conversation and he'd seemed absolutely normal. They'd had an interesting talk about seventh year topics for transfiguration, Albus had spilt Pumpkin juice all over Minerva's lap and then had apologised profusely (offering a sherbet lemon in desperation) for ten minutes. Nothing untoward seemed about to happen (ignoring the war, of course).
The Deputy Headmistress sighed as she remembered the fateful Quidditch match.
The fervour a Quidditch match provoked could be said to be heartening by some and ridiculous by others. In spite of one of the most violent storms Minerva had ever seen, and the torrential rain that accompanied it, the whole school had still turned out to watch the match, which was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, meaning that the tension was even higher than usual. It had taken place against a melodramatic backdrop of angry purple clouds and lightning and wind stole away any cheering. Minerva had watched the Potter boy cause the Malfoy kid to nose-dive into the ground using a Wronski Feint and the red-headed Keeper being victim to numerous Bludger attacks. She'd been surprised that Albus hadn't turned up for the game but there'd been other occasions before when his work had forced him to miss a match and she hadn't panicked.
The Slytherins had been doing well and had been winning by fifty points - until the Potter boy saw the Snitch. The whole school had leant forward on the edge of the seats, watching the Boy-Who-Lived's hand getting closer and closer to the small golden gleam that was the elusive ball…
And it had been during that unearthly pause in thought, where everything seemed to fade except for the Seeker and the Snitch, that Albus had appeared.
There hadn't been a flash. Or a bang. Or even a popping sound. The Headmaster had simply appeared, without warning, on the pitch.
Half the school had cheered or hissed when the Potter boy caught the Snitch. The other half had stared in alarm at Albus.
Minerva remembered instantly making a mental list of what worried her. The fact that he had just stood, frozen, on the pitch, was worrying enough. The fact that he'd been clasping a small baby to him was disquieting as well. His clothes were so perturbing that had he merely walked into the Great Hall wearing them, Minerva would've been worried as to his mental state. The Headmaster had always been slightly mad but nothing could've prepared ANYONE for the sight of Albus wearing long leather trench coat which came down his ankles, black trousers, a black t-shirt with a skull on and large silver cross on a chain. And dark glasses. The very thought was bizarre.
But it'd been mainly the look on his face that had alarmed her. She'd never, ever seen him look so distraught. His eyes had been round with horror and seemed to be seeing something which no one else could see. His mouth had been slightly open as if in shock or dismay. In fact, he'd looked close to tears.
And then, in front of the disbelieving students and the stunned faculty, he'd keeled over sideways, still in exactly the same position. When the teachers had poured onto the pitch, they'd found that he'd fainted. The small, selfish, completely-apathetic-to-everyone-else part of Minerva was slightly annoyed by this: Albus had a lot of explaining to do.
And she was determined that he was going to do that. Here. Now.
Albus lay on the bed, the black of his garb contrasting violently with bright sheets. All other attempts had failed and so Severus had had to brew a potion to wake him up. He'd been conscious for a week and the faculty's concern and curiosity were both reaching their peaks.
"Albus?" ventured Poppy.
His eyes snapped open and the pupils flicked about quickly. He seemed disorientated.
"What happened?" blurted Minerva, unable to restrain herself, earning a frown from Poppy. The rest of the teachers mentally pricked their ears.
He focussed on her. "Dunno."
Minerva's relief at a response was quickly crushed by the disturbing feeling of being in an alternate reality. The Albus she knew would never have said "dunno." In fact, the Albus she knew would've given an unnecessarily eloquent and long answer, probably along the lines of: "I do not appear to be suffering any major or minor contusions and my bones seem to be present and in working order. However, I am perplexed, lying comatose in the Hospital Wing, dressed in unusual attire and I do not seem to have any sherbet lemons with me."
"Could you elaborate?" asked Severus acidly, only his eyes revealing his concern.
Albus suddenly moaned and brought his hands to his face, as if remembering something unpleasant suddenly. He muttered something nobody could hear and then lurched upwards into a sitting position, revealing his face, which was lined with anxiety.
"Where's-?" he began but Poppy had clearly anticipated the question.
"The baby's fine, Albus," she reassured him. "She's sleeping at the moment. I'm looking after her at the moment. Now, can you tell us what happened?"
The Headmaster appeared to consider this for a moment. "No," he said finally.
Everyone blinked in surprise. Albus usually responded to reasonable requests and usually, when asked to explain something, would launch into a massive talk that both help and confused people. The word "no" was not a word in Albus Dumbledore's vocabulary.
"No?" repeated Minerva, incredulously. "No?"
"No," confirmed Albus. He turned a lined, tired, haunted face up to her. "You appear to be having trouble with that concept." He said it without any trace of humour.
"Why not?" demanded Severus, seeming wrong-footed by the uncharacteristic refusal.
"I don't feel like telling you a damn thing," said Albus, without emotion. "Go away."
Minerva's temper started rising. "Albus Dumbledore! You appeared in the middle of a Quidditch match with a baby and fainted! We're worried about you! Tell us what happened to you!"
Albus seemed to start to get angry too. His crystal blue eyes blazed with a furious fire. The thought that she shared You-Know-Who's fear of that fire flew through the Deputy Headmistress's head as the bony frame under the offensively different clothes trembled - but whether from rage or from something else, was not clear.
He told the teachers to go and do something and said a word which Minerva never expected to hear from Albus.
The Headmaster glared at their faces, savagely pleased by the apparent shock, and picked up his dark glasses from the bedside table and put them on, so that they concealed his eyes. "Surprised at me swearing, are we?" He folded his arms like a defiant teenager.
He then proceeded to rattle off a long list of obscenities, referring to excretion, human anatomy, reproductive activities and so on. He then took out a cigarette and started smoking it. The rest of the faculty were too stunned by this unbelievable behaviour coming from the most unlikely person that they did nothing but stare.
"We'll come back later," said Minerva after he'd finished, suddenly unable to cope with this shocking transformation from Albus the Wise But Slightly Dotty into Albus the Completely Raving Mystery Man.
The teachers left the Hospital Wing simultaneously, wishing to be as far away as possible from the evidence that the world had gone mad. Even Poppy left the room, apparently too shocked to speak.
So it was that only a sable-haired boy sporting a melodramatically-shaped scar, peering past the screen, hidden beneath a concealing cloak, saw silver tears suddenly start to drip their way down Albus's face.
The boy retreated, a troubled expression dominating his thin visage under the Invisibility Cloak. He left and the Hospital Wing was silent, except for the sound of its only wakeful charge trying to suppress sobs.
A/N: Yes, Dumbledore is meant to be OOC.