I've disclaimed ownership in every other chapter, I shan't do it again.
"I informed Professor McGonagall here of your altered state of consciousness immediately. We've all been very concerned, dear."
Brede had to stifle a giggle at her description of her awakening. Her composure was very necessary throughout this interview. She made it sound as though she were using some illegal substance. Although, perhaps the staff had concluded that this option was a possible explanation. She was considered a bit of a hippie...
McGonnagall's commanding tone broke through her wandering thoughts. "Now, we understand some of your...difficulties. However, I personally feel something else entirely is going on. Is there anything you would like to share with us, Miss Kearney?"
Mentally cursing her lack of discretion recently, Brede related her less than believable tale anew. "Well, Professor, you do realize the OWLS are quickly approaching. I've got to do well if I hope to succeed later in life, you know you're always telling us that, and I've been really worried about them. I mean, my attitude on school work's been all wrong, and I just hope my work habits will be improved enough before I go out into the world."
Brede concluded her dissertation on "Examples in lame excuses" with a timid smile. Her inquisitionists bought it hook, line, and sinker. Better than she could have hoped, actually.
"Oh, my dear, I never knew you felt that way! I shouldn't have pushed you so hard, I never meant for it to go this far! I'm so sorry!" McGonagall looked to be approaching a nervous breakdown. She was simply beside herself. Madam Pomfrey just seemed very sympathetic. A bit of guilt crept its way into the pit of Brede's stomach at the sight of such a receptive audience.
She pushed away the undesirable and weak emotion, and attempted to comfort her distressed teacher. "It's all right, Professor." She could barely stifle the urge to wrap her arms around the regretful educator. For all her attempts to shut others out, empathy still managed to wriggle its way out of her on occasion. "You were only doing it for my own good, I've been irresponsible, how were you to know?"
A still shaken, but slightly recovered McGonagall responded, "It's my job to see you all safe and cared for. I should have responded to the warning signs you've been blaring at the world for the last few weeks."
Brede again sought the council of her patron. She had never gotten this worked up, this emotional, for years and years. Although a breakdown now and then was understandable for the average bear, (or witch), her acting skills and ability to conceal her inner turmoil were both quite well famed. She had inexplicably dropped the ball recently. As she repeatedly pondered any possible sources of her sudden onslaught of sob-fests, McGonagall found her calm and drew in a large gulp of air as though she were about to speak. However, her musings were left unrevealed, as the Hospital Wing door opened to reveal the slightly pensive features of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore.
The moment Brede saw him, a sickening lurch in the region of her stomach informed her that he had learned that which she had sought to conceal. She needed no pity, she needed no taunting. That point was pointless now, however, as he would, in all likelihood, share this information with the entire school. The thought increased the roiling sensation in her abdomen a hundredfold, and she realized she would soon lose any sustenance found in her stomach. Leaping from the bed, Brede dashed to a waste bin in the corner and proceeded to be ill.
As she rotated in place to lean against the wall and wipe the sheen of sweat that had formed on her brow, Brede regarded the other occupants of the room, she noted with detached matter of factness that they were quite shocked and disturbed. Two were, anyway. Dumbledore just seemed to noiselessly sort the fact away into the endless filing cabinet that served as his memory. Having not eaten for two days, then expelling the first nutrition ingested almost immediately is just not the most enjoyable way to go. As her vision was slowly overrun by small black dots, she slid to the floor.
Passing out is not a pleasant process. Brede noted with a pained and frustrated groan that she had gone through it all too often recently and should attempt to avoid at all costs in the future. As she forced her protesting limbs into movement, she took stock of her surroundings. Once again sprawled across the white-sheeted feather mattress, she turned her head slightly and gave a slight jump when she realized she was not alone. Neither was her companion the school nurse.
"Well, Professor," she forced out. "If you tell me it's Thursday, I think I'll scream."
The venerable wizard chuckled quietly. "No, no my dear. I can assure you with all possible certainty it remains Tuesday evening."
Brede was quite happier and grew more assured after this news, but then a thought occurred to her. Not only was she alone with Albus Dumbledore, arguably the most powerful wizard in the world, who she swore could read minds, but he had apparently taken a sizable bit of time out of his immeasurably busy schedule to await her awakening, as the other previous occupants were nowhere to be seen. Her suspicion increased upon seeing the penetrating stare he fixed upon her.
"Now, Miss Kearney, I have a few events I would like to discuss with you. Feel free to confirm or deny some information I have recently come across." Here he paused, as if waiting for her to interject a comment or pass out again. Feeling the need to fulfill his prediction and having no urge to lose her rare amount of consciousness, Brede swallowed the ever-enlargening lump in her throat and spoke.
"Well, sir, I can't see what any strange occurrences would have to do with me. I mean, other than passing out at a moment's notice." Any hope she may have held that he hadn't learned the truth slipped away with the stoicism he maintained. The ever-present twinkle in his eye seemed to have dimmed, and his mouth didn't even twitch.
"Before I begin, I would only like to say that I wish you had told someone. Your teachers are only here to help. There is no giant conspiracy against you here." Brede almost snorted, but managed to stop herself in time. Although the events preceding this little chat were tragic and horrendous, and the condolences he gave she knew to be sincere, his assertion of her safety was quite untrue. For all he knew, the faculty was made entirely of Death Eaters on Polyjuice Potion. However, the trusting and understanding headmaster would never see this possibility. He knew only the light, which was all well and good, but not within her comprehension.
Dumbledore's lined face, if anything, grew more observant. He seemed to be attempting to divinate her every thought from the slightest twinge of a muscle, the most minute flicker of an eyelash. This scrutiny was terribly unnerving to Brede, and she considered performing a tap dance to let off steam. Deciding against this course of action, as she had no desire to become a mental patient at St. Mungo's, she instead attempted to match his inscrutability exactly. She won their staring contest, as he shortly looked away with a sigh. He seemed a bit disappointed, and she came to the conclusion that denying all previous knowledge might be the most logical procedure. She immediately realized the lack of logic this plan possessed, however, and decided it would only dig her hole to China that much deeper. A testing of the waters was in order.
"Sir? What exactly did you want to discuss? What's so imperative and somber?"
He only blinked in response, and Brede thought she could detect a bit of shock at her bluntness. Beating around the proverbial bush was her forte. He recovered admirably, however, and spoke. "I believe you know precisely why I am here; I will humor you in the interest of time, however."
And so began the slow unraveling of Brede's immense and imaginary invisibility cloak, whose task it was to conceal her past, present, and future. Even she would never have predicted the pain the process would produce.
Hellooooooooo? Is anyone still trudging through? A significant portion of Brede's secrets will be aired out in the next chapter. If you would like to them to be revealed, REVIEW! Otherwise, they will remain imprisoned within my brain and my laptop. I love you all dearly, but I'm feeling terribly lonely. If you're reading this, tell me! PLEASE!