Disclaimer: I'll say it again: J.K. Rowling is the true master mind behind Harry Potter, and it all belongs to her!
Chapter 3: Twelve Hours Later
Twelve hours later, Dumbledore looked worse for wear. Upon returning to Hogwarts, he met McGonagall and Lupin in his office and, after insisting that Remus stay at the castle so that his mission for the Order would be much easier, had finally convinced the former student to stay. After the Transfiguration teacher informed the headmaster that she would come by his office the next morning and Remus told him he would be by before lunch, they left Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was now left to tackle the mountain of letters that was on his desk. He glared at the pile of letters, hoping that it would burst into flames. When it did not, Dumbledore sighed deeply and walked up the stairs to his private quarters to take a shower. Ten minutes later, the headmaster was seated behind his desk. He began to read the letters, separating them into stacks if there were letters that required the same answer. He would have completely forgotten about dinner if a House Elf had not come up to ask him if he wanted any. After declining the offer (he wasn't too hungry at the moment) and receiving a disapproving look from the house-elf, Dumbledore began to write his answers. Many of the letter writers had asked for extensive answers, so it was well into the early morning hours by the time he had finished writing his replies, copied replies that pertained to more than one letter, and called for three dozen owls from the Owlery to deliver them.
It was now seven in the morning, and Dumbledore was still sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. He had transfigured his high-backed headmaster chair into a squashy chintz armchair. Dumbledore's thin frame was slouched, his shoulders and neck ached, and he felt as if thousands of needles had been shoved deep into his temples.
He did not know how long he had been sitting there when his office door opened. There was a long pause. He then heard the door close and hurried footsteps came towards his desk. A thin hand slipped onto his shoulder. "Albus?"
Dumbledore knew who it was, so he did not need to look up. It probably would not have been good for his headache anyway. "Hello, Minerva."
"Albus, are you all right?"
"Yes, I'm fine. Just tired."
"Are you sure?" The Transfiguration teacher put her other hand on Dumbledore's other shoulder, causing him to flinch and groan miserably. The reaction caught them both by surprise.
"Please don't do that," whispered the headmaster weakly. "It hurts."
"Sorry. What happened?"
"Just muscle aches."
"Not an injury?"
"No."
"Well, that's good." McGonagall began to gently massage the headmaster's tense shoulders. "Are you sure you're all right?"
Dumbledore sighed. "No, I'm not."
"What's wrong, then? You can tell me."
"Well, I was up all night answering my mail, but now my headache's gotten worse."
"Gotten worse?"
"I've had it for about a week."
"You should have told someone. You know that any one of the staff would've helped."
"I suppose you're right. Well, at least I got my mail answered."
McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Now, Albus, when you say you stayed up all night, how late did you actually stay up?"
"I stayed up all night. I didn't go to sleep."
"You WHAT?" shouted McGonagall, causing the headmaster to flinch because the Transfiguration teacher had squeezed his shoulders.
"Headmaster?"
Severus Snape had walked into Dumbledore's office, closing the door with a snap. He saw that the headmaster had his head in his hands and rushed quickly to his side. "Are you all right?"
"He has a headache. He's had it for a week," said McGonagall.
"Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey?" asked the Potions Master. "Or you could have come to me."
"I know, but I guess I never really found the time."
Snape laughed inwardly, astounded yet again by the headmaster's ability to help everyone while not even bothering to help himself. He knelt down so that he was level with Dumbledore. "Look at me, Headmaster."
Dumbledore turned to face the Potions Master and gazed at him with tired blue eyes. The Potions Master sighed inwardly. "Can you see me clearly?"
"No, not really," said the headmaster, rubbing his forehead with his arm.
Snape stood up and faced McGonagall. "I'm going down to my office to get him some Migraine Potion," whispered the Potions Master. "Get him up to bed."
McGonagall nodded to the Potions Master, who then turned on his heel and left the office. The Transfiguration teacher turned her attention to the headmaster. "Come on now, Albus, you heard Severus; let's get you upstairs."
"You don't have to worry about me, Minerva. I can manage. I'll go take a shower."
McGonagall pursed her lips, wanting to protest, but said nothing. "Very well. I'll wait down here for Severus."
Dumbledore nodded to his Deputy Headmistress and walked up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. It took all of his control to not collapse on the spot.
Something told the headmaster that he would not be answering mail anytime soon.