(no subject)
Private
I feel as though I've been making too many private posts of late, that to the students especially it must look as though I've given this up. Either that or I just post public notes about the classes, while this entire experiment is about communication and discussion within the school.
But I can't just write some frivolous nonsense at the moment, some rubbish about oh how well the exams went, marks should be available on this day, ooh how lovely it's getting warmer, the school year's almost over, and on and on. God, I can hardly type this properly--I'll have to bow to technology and use the computer spell-check instead of doing it myself because I can't concentrate and I'm bound to miss all sorts of errors.
I spent most of yesterday doing the same things most of the other professors did--trying to keep Dumbledore occupied away from the Ministry invigilators, and vice versa. And doing all that while trying to keep the students and the invigilators blissfully unaware of anything odd going on! Though I think the students are starting to suspect; Dumbledore has made too many public posts which sound to odd to be explained away as stress or his attempts to lighten the mood, no matter how much Minerva may attempt to encouraged those explanations.
Its becoming increasingly obvious that Dumbledore is rapidly declining due to some form of dementia, and's it the most awful thing to watch. One of my friends at the Ministry had a grandfather that died of dementia. She would visit him every Sunday, and would come in to work every Monday morning looking as through shed not slept all night--which she probably hadn't. She said it was the most awful thing, watching someone you knew and loved lose all sense of self, al control, all knowledge of the world around them. To watch someone be unable to recognise their own children, to think they were somewhere else entirely. I tried to do what I could to help her get through it, but I never could entirely understand what she was going through. I knew enough, though, too know that I never did want to understand what it was like.
I can't even find words to describe how horrible it is. Particularly to see someone like Dumbledore--someone so brilliant, so wise and caring, someone whom everyone else looks to for advice and support... To see him reduced to this, nonsense mixed with moments of lucidity which only make things worse because they remind you of the person who may still be there deep inside, beyond the madness.
It's hitting everyone hard, all the staff seem to radiate this quiet dread of what will come next. He's starting to make mistakes in names--even with people like McGonagall and Pomfrey, who have been here forever--or at least so it seems.
Oh God, I don;t even know what to pray for anymore. The only thing I want to pray for is that he'll get better but I know that's not going to happen. But nor can I hope that... God, I can't even say it because I feel as though if I write it it will come true. Superstition, I know, but I just cant do it. How on earth can we win this war without Dumbledore?
Staff meeting tomorrow night--I don't want to go, because I don't want to come faceto-face with the reality of what's going on, but I cannot miss it, obviously. This may be the teachers' only chance to talk about what to do about this whole situation, once Dumbledore leaves the meeting that is, as we're all so busy with end-of-year duties.
Pippin is winding herself around my ankles, perhaps she can tell I'm upset. The way she's looking up at me and mewing I think she can, and is trying in her own little way to make me feel better. I think I'll take her up on her offer of comfort, though I know it will do little to help.