Unlike Hogwarts 1835 this story includes characters from JK Rowling's Harry Potter books. It should be obvious, however, that a story set some fifty years earlier will lack some characters from Rowling's work.
Imablack served as my canon checker for 1835. In addition she furnished her particular understanding of Aberforth Dumbledore which I used as the background of the character as he appears in this story.
Mystery Children
"First Night's not what it was, even when I was a lad," Aberforth sighed. "I hear that graduates used to fill the village to catch up with old friends and hear the news of new students in the houses–"
"Houses?" Daniel asked.
"Four houses at Hogwarts. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Named for the founders of the school. Parents brought their students to Hogsmeade before the train. When the train came in the trip didn't seem so necessary. Most parents of first years were still at Hogsmeade for the sorting when–
"Sorting?" Albert interrupted.
"Aye, the ceremony where the new students are assigned a house. There were parties all over the village for the parents that night. Anyway, as I was saying, when I started it seemed like all the parents of the first years were here. Now days most send their youngster off by himself or herself.
All of the evacuees had heard of the students who would be arriving. Several of the children who either lived in the village or who had arrived from Diagon, such as Augusta Madley, were students. Some of the younger children still didn't understand the real nature of the village and wondered where the new students would live and study. Many of the older children had gone around the lake to gaze on what appeared to be ancient ruins, and while Ogg and Beelzebub had scared away most of those who came too close some of the more bold had ventured close enough to see the building in its true form - and others had learned enough to believe the stories the Hogsmeade children told them of the wizards' school.
In the great scheme of things, however, the evacuees were more interested in their own school year. The evacuees, smaller children of Hogsmeade, and some of the older children who didn't attend Hogwarts would soon begin their own lessons. The number of evacuees meant the church building had to be drafted to serve as the school building for the duration.
In the days before the students arrived for Hogwarts, faculty who lived outside Hogsmeade or had been on holiday returned. Professor Lovegood, who taught astronomy and returned to his family home at every opportunity, and Whilhamina Grubbly, who had just been hired to teach courses related to magical creatures and was in her probation year, had rooms at the Hog's Head. All of the shops in the village put in such new stock as they were able under the wartime restrictions in preparation for the students arriving. Much of the village's economy rested on the school.
The Flint brothers and Albert were warned that some professors would arrive by the fireplace in the Hog's Head public room. The warning made no sense to them. Five times over the next few days the fireplace flared and suddenly wizards or witches stepped out of the flames. How anyone could travel by fireplace still made no sense, but at least the boys understood the warning. Other staff and faculty sometimes stopped at the Hog's Head, but the Three Broomsticks was considered the more 'respectable' public house and usually had more business from the faculty of the school.
"I saw Albus in the village today," Eleanor commented at supper. Her husband said nothing. "I said I saw Albus," she repeated.
"Who's Albus?" Elijah asked.
"He teaches at the school," Aberforth said quickly. "And I do not want his name mentioned at the table. Bad enough we have to talk of Hitler and that lot. Not good for a man's digestion."
"His brother," Eleanor told Elijah.
"And he will not be mentioned again during a meal," Aberforth said sternly.
Despite Aberforth's claim that First Night wasn't what it used to be, all the guest rooms at the Hog's Head were reserved, although at the last minute two of the parents sent owls saying they had decided not to stay.
"They didn't leave because of us, did they?" Daniel asked as the evacuees ate a hurried dinner with their hosts while Mrs. Spigot watched the bar.
"No, lads, it wasn't you," Aberforth assured them.
"Then why?" Elijah wanted to know.
"That's not your concern," he told them.
"You said you'd always tell us the truth," Albert reminded him.
"I'll tell you the truth about me. I'll tell you the truth about anything that concerns you. I don't have to tell you the truth that isn't your concern," he answered harshly.
"Abe," his wife chided him. "I know you're upset about losing the customers. It's not the boys' fault. We're not short of money."
"Ignorance makes me angry. If they'll not stay here because of ignorance I say we're well rid of them."
The boys all looked puzzled, and Daniel spoke, "I don't understand what you're saying. But if it doesn't concern us I'll try to accept–"
"I won't!" his younger brother objected. "I want to know what's happening."
"Mr. Puddlestone is ill, dear," Eleanor told the younger boy, "and that's why–"
"Is it contagious?" Albert wanted to know.
She hesitated before answering. "Well, not normally, but–"
"There's no danger," Aberforth said firmly. "Wouldn't let him stay here if it were a problem. Now drop the subject."
Elijah did not want to drop the subject. He wanted to know what the problem was with the lodger who slept all day. "What's wrong with Mr. Puddlestone?" he demanded.
"Shush," his brother whispered in an effort to stop him.
"They'll probably hound poor Alexander until they find out," Eleanor told her husband.
He hesitated, "This is your fault," he told his wife. Then he addressed the boys, "Mr. Puddlestone is a vampire."
Daniel looked like he didn't believe the news. Albert looked puzzled, and the youngest boy looked fearful.
"And that's why I didn't want to say anything," Aberforth sighed. "People get upset for nothing. You can't catch anything by knowing him."
"He doesn't look like a vampire," Daniel remarked, the skepticism showing in his voice.
"And how should a vampire look, Dear?" Eleanor asked the boy.
The boy blushed, "Well, in the films–"
"The cinema?" Aberforth snorted. He looked at his wife, "Who was that actor in the American film we watched?
"I don't remember."
Aberforth turned back to Daniel, "That what you think a vampire should look like – All foreign and dressed up in a monkey suit with a cape?"
"Well… Yes, I guess that's how I imagined… I mean, I didn't really imagine there were–"
"Like you didn't imagine there were wizards and witches."
"Yes, Sir," he admitted.
Alexander Puddlestone was short, with mousy brown hair that was thinning on top and his eyes magnified by thick glasses. Aberforth looked at Albert, "Think you can tell a Jew by looking at him?"
"No," the boy declared emphatically.
"Most vampires don't want to talk about their problem. People hate 'em worse than Jews, and with no better reason. There are some bad ones around, I won't deny it, but most of 'em just want to live in peace like the rest of us."
"But what does he eat?" Elijah wanted to know.
"Ever noticed the little keg I keep below the bar?"
The boys' faces wrinkled in disgust. "It's not… human, is it?" the youngest boy asked timidly.
"No. Animal, from when a farmer slaughters something."
"Doesn't it dry out or something," Albert asked.
"I have a potion, George Fletcher calls it an anticoagulant, that keeps it liquid."
Elijah still looked disgusted.
"George Fletcher," Daniel asked. "Have we met him?"
"No. He's an apothecary down south. Been his family trade for years. He's up every now and then for some potions and to watch a game out at the school."
"What kind of a game?" Elijah wanted to know.
Aberforth glanced at the clock and shoveled in the last mouthful of food, "I'd best be relieving Mrs. Spigot," he mumbled as he rose from the table.
In the morning Ogg rowed across the lake, towing a string of boats behind him.
"Why is that… that man bringing the boats?" Victoria wanted to know.
"The first years at Hogwarts always row over the lake when fall term begins," Alice told her.
"But why?" Victoria repeated.
"Because they do. It's the way it's always done."
"That's not an answer."
"Yes it is. There're lots of things we do because that's the way we always do them. I wish they would use the carriages for the older students."
"Carriages… With horses?" Vera asked. Two or three large horse-drawn wagons were lined up by the Hogsmeade station to bring the students' trunks to Hogwarts.
"Carriages without horses," Alice answered.
"Oh, automobiles," Victoria said cheerfully. "My father has two. I haven't seen an automobile since we got here. I was starting to wonder–"
"Not automobiles," Alice assured her. "This isn't like anything you've seen… But Mama says that the muggles shouldn't see them."
In the mid-afternoon a small boy who had climbed onto one of the wagons waiting to carry the trunks shouted that he saw the steam of the locomotive, and seven minutes later the train came to a stop and young men and women began hopping from the train. A number of men from the village helped unload trunks from the train, and load them onto the wagons. Two of them grumbled about doing the work of house elves and complained to each other they should simply use a memory charm on all the muggle children - or should have ordered them all kept indoors.
The Hogwarts students had been alerted to the presence of the evacuees, but were still curious about actually seeing muggles in the village. Living in Hogsmeade had taken a little of the curiosity from the evacuees, but they were still eager to see the new faces. Augusta felt relief at being able to leave her aunt's home and return to the school
Two of the new arrivals attracted much of the attention. One was a third year, tall for his age, with dark hair and an aristocratic manner that belied the shabby clothing he wore.
Alice nudged Vera and Vickie. "That's Tom Riddle. Isn't he handsome?"
"He's very poorly dressed," Victoria sniffed.
"He is very handsome," Vera agreed.
"And I hear he's very smart," Alice told them. "He's going to be a very powerful wizard."
"He's still very poorly dressed," Victoria remarked.
The other arrival to draw attention was easily the tallest of the new arrivals, standing well over six feet tall. Despite his size his face was childlike and he stood with the smallest of the children to arrive, nervously twisting his hat and looking ill at ease. A wizard, much shorter than the boy, stood with the first years and kept a comforting hand on the huge boy's back. Finally, realizing he was only succeeding in embarrassing his son even more, Tullius Hagrid said a final word of encouragement and left to see if the Hog's Head had a room for the night.
A short time later Ogg caught sight of the large boy and went over to the group, causing many of the smaller children to back away in fear. "Rubeus Hagrid?" the gamekeeper growled.
"Yes," the tall boy answered.
"Keep your nose clean. Study hard. I don't ever want to hear you accused of starting trouble. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," the huge child answered quickly.
"Good," the big man grunted and addressed the group of youngest students. "You'll be rowing across the lake at sunset. If you need anything at Hogsmeade you'd best get it now."
Augusta Madley had scanned the faces of the students getting off the train and wondered how she could have missed seeing Richard Longbottom. While the train was loading milk and eggs and unloading some mail and packages – mostly for the evacuees – she raced through the cars, hoping he had fallen asleep and not realized the train had arrived. A blast of the whistle warned her to jump from the train before it began. She frowned as she joined the students who had left the train, then saw Minerva McGonagall, who might have an answer. "Min! Where's Richard?"
"You didn't hear?"
The question irritated Augusta. She thought Richard Longbottom should keep her informed of all his movements and she didn't like to beg information in this manner. "Hear what?"
"Joined the navy. You didn't know?"
"I…"
"Honestly, from what I hear they'll need to put all the seventh years together to have enough for a respectable class."
Augusta was grateful for a change of topic so she didn't have to admit her ignorance. "How many are left?"
"I think there are only three wizards and eight witches all together."
"I've been here in Hogsmeade," Augusta told Minerva, in part to explain her lack of knowledge about Richard – although he could have sent her an owl, "what's happening in the City?"
"The bombing is getting worse… How much of that do you hear about?"
"Not much. If it weren't for the evacuees you could almost forget the war here. Tell me about the bombing."
"All right… But let's get some biscuits at Evans' Bakery first. I think I miss the bakery more than Hogwarts… Have you heard if old Binns and Merrythought are still teaching?"
"Yes," Augusta nodded glumly as the two headed into the village. "I swear, they'll have to die before they hire someone new."
An hour later the returning students began the walk around the edge of the lake to the school. They grumbled at not being allowed the use of the carriages or brooms for the trip.
Despite his youth Tom Riddle appeared to be the leader of a small group of Slytherins who clustered around him for the walk to Hogwarts. His two closest syncopates, the fourth year William Avery and fellow third year Marian Lestrange, flanked him. Avery's size had brought him the nickname of bear, while Marian answered to Ferret. The prospects for their house's quidditch team was the focus of conversation.
"The war has taken a toll on everyone's team," Ferret pointed out. "What'll it mean for Slytherin? Can we win this year?"
"Of course," Tom laughed. "But we need to think of next year too. Get the youngest players we can for this year and it'll improve our chances for the next two years. We need a house meeting. I'm going to suggest Bear for captain–"
"Mad Queen won't like that," Bear muttered, "with Hooks gone off she'll think the job's hers."
Tom shrugged, "She's a fine keeper. Slytherin needs a captain who'll be around a couple years. We need to think of the future, right?"
Those around him nodded their heads or murmured assent.
"Ferret, you need to try for seeker–"
"Yes!" the third year exclaimed happily.
"I said try out," Tom reminded him. "You might not make it, but we know you're good. The idea is to field the best team we can, and if there's a better candidate we all should support him, but I think you can do it. Bear, I think you're ready to be senior beater, will Humpty-Dumpty be ready for junior?"
"Still a bit rough, but he can be ready by our first game."
Tom addressed those around him, "We've only got DB as a chaser at the moment. Who do you think shows potential?" Several suggested Tom himself, and some urged him to try for seeker. "No," he laughed. "I'll try keep honors as top of my class—"
"You'll do it easy," one of his friends assured him.
Riddle smiled, "I hope so. But we want to win the quidditch cup for Slytherin. I'm flattered, but I think Ferret here would make a better seeker."
Several names were put forward. Tom listened, looked thoughtful, and then pointed out why the particular witch or wizard would not be a good candidate.
"How about that Prince girl?" someone suggested.
"She's only interested in gobstones and potions," Ferret snorted.
"Not Eileen, her little sister."
Riddle looked thoughtful, "She should try out."
"But she's not one of us, neither of 'em are," Bear pointed out.
Tom patted his large friend on the back, "Of course they are. We're all Slytherin. We're the best house here. We don't want to win the cup for ourselves, we want it for Slytherin – show the other houses why we're the best. Eileen always takes first in potions, that's good for Slytherin. Besides, even if they aren't in our circle of friends now they might be someday. We should always be willing to expand our circle of friends."
Quidditch was second only to the war in conversation as the returning students walked around the lake. The loss of most seventh year students and even a number of sixth year students created gaps on all the teams and gave other students hope for playing on their house teams.
Minerva McGonagall kept her lips compressed and talked less about quidditch on the walk around the lake than she would have liked. Augusta Madley's cousin, Lucretia – the seventh year keeper for Slytherin – had joined them and Minerva feared saying anything which might give another team insight into Gryffindor's chances.
Tullius Hagrid was at a table in the Hog's Head with three other nervous parents anxiously awaiting news from the school on which houses would receive their children. Shortly after dark a smiling Alexander Puddlestone entered the public room, "Drinks for everyone! I just got a job!"
"What will you be doing?" a wizard called.
"Night shift supervisor at a ball bearing factory in Coventry. Start next week."
"Got your food situation squared away," Aberforth asked cautiously, in case there was anyone present unaware of his guest's condition.
"Yep. Found a butcher who has a few other special customers."
"Well, good luck to you."
A few more drinks helped the parents survive the next hours. "When will the damn house elf get here?" one wizard grumbled as he ordered another mug of ale at the bar.
"Probably not a house elf. Keeping 'em at school 'cause of the evacuees. It'll be the Filch boy. Ought to give him some kind of a tip when he arrives."
The wizard continued his grumbling as he returned to the other parents.
"Was there a raven that sometimes reported the sorting?" a witch asked nervously to make small talk as they waited.
Roger Gray laughed, "Munin was his name. Worked for a couple of my ancestors… Or we worked for him. Heard he always wanted a sickle for bringing the news. He'd probably demand a galleon now."
"I'd pay it," Tullius Hagrid assured them. "I just want to hear my Rubeus is in a good house."
"And what do mean, 'a good house'?" the witch demanded sharply.
"Any house," Tullius admitted, "just want to know he'll be happy."
Argus Filch went to the Three Broomsticks first, then came to the Hog's Head with news that Rubeus Hagrid had been placed in Gryffindor, as had Basil Gray. The son and daughter of the witch and wizard who had waited with them were both in Ravenclaw.
Lessons for the evacuees and Hogsmeade children began to clear the streets of the village during the day. Noisy games were still played after school, but routine began to give a sense of a return to normalcy.
After class one day Daniel Flint told his brother he planned to stay to ask questions about math, and suggested his younger brother go back to the Hog's Head without him. Elijah ran through the village. The young witch was watching the bar. "Where's Mr. Dumbledore," the boy panted.
"Downstairs, brewin'."
The boy knocked on the door.
"Eh? Who is it?" their host's voice came up from below.
"Elijah, Sir, can I talk with you for a minute?"
"Only if it's important."
In the young boy's mind it was. He opened the door and went down the stairs. The large space at the bottom was cleaner than he had imagined, but then he reflected that an area for brewing should be kept clean. "Sit there on the bottom step," Aberforth suggested. "Tell me what's on your mind."
"Could you use a memory charm on me?"
The wizard looked puzzled, "Are you asking if I used a memory charm on you?"
"No, Sir. I'm asking if you would, please."
The master of the Hog's Head stopped what he was doing and went to sit by the boy on the step. "You want me to erase a memory?"
"Yes, Sir, if you can. I mean; you can pick what memories to erase, right? Someone took away the memory of us getting on the train – but we still have our other memories, don't we?" He suddenly looked suspicious, "Can you put in false memories? Did someone give me false memories?"
"Not that I know of," Aberforth assured him. "Can be done. That's why I asked you lads to pay attention to the other children. Too many memory charms can cause problems. Makes a person seem not right in the head. But what does a lad like you want to forget? You're too young to be unhappy in love."
"No, Sir. I'd like you to make me forget how Daniel broke his leg."
"Pardon me?"
"It was my fault," the boy blurted out, and started crying. "Dad was working on a house, and I was where I shouldn't have been…And I got… And Daniel… It was my fault."
Aberforth felt uncomfortable, but recognized the need to do something, and put an arm around the boy's shoulder. "Daniel was injured trying to help you?"
"He did help me! And then the board broke and he fell, and…"
"And you want me to take that memory from you?"
The boy nodded. "I feel so terrible."
"Does your brother remind you of what happened all the time?"
"He never says a word. But I know. I know and I feel bad every day."
The two sat silently at the bottom of the stairs for a couple minutes before Aberforth spoke. "Do you remember that room down the hall from you? The room I said you boys were not to touch."
Elijah looked puzzled, "Yes…"
"I told you that room had belonged to my daughter Freida. You can't know what it's like to lose a daughter. There's a pain that cuts to your heart, that eats at your gut every day when you remember."
"Why don't you have someone do a memory charm?"
"The only way to take away the hurt would be to take away her memory completely. I'd lose the day she was born. I'd lose the day she first called me Dada, and her first step. I'd lose chasing butterflies with her and going to London to help her pick out a wand… Those memories make the pain worse. But I won't give them up."
"I don't want to forget Daniel. I just want to forget how it was my fault!"
Aberforth was silent for a minute, "No, lad. You need to know your brother loves you–"
"I know he loves me!"
"You need to know he loves you enough to put himself in peril for you. And I won't have you resenting him."
"How could I resent him?"
"I see you watching out for him. Taking on burdens because he can't do something, staying with him when you want to run ahead. You may act out of love. You may act out of guilt. You may act out of a bit of both. If I take away the memory he'll seem a burden to you. You'll resent him–"
"I could never resent him!"
"You would, lad. Sadly, you would. It's our natures. I'm not saying you're any worse than the rest of us. We're all that way. I'll not help you with the memory charm. You need to remember your brother's example of selflessness."
"He wasn't selfish!"
"Selflessness, not the same as selfish. It means he was thinking about helping you instead of staying safe himself. He's a good model for the rest of us."
Elijah did not like the answer he had been given, but had learned that once their host made up his mind on a subject he did not like to change it and the boy knew he would have to accept the answer. And while the village of Hogsmeade appeared a sleepy place in comparison to the hustle of London there was enough going on at all times to keep the boy from brooding more over his problem than he already did.
Tod Browning's Dracula, with Béla Lugosi in the title role, was released in 1931. It would have been a year or two until the Dumbledore's saw it, but certainly enough time had passed for them to forget Lugosi's name.
I don't hold stories hostage for reviews. And I recognize last weekend was Easter which affected hits. But the sheer number of characters I have in this story makes things confusing and worries me. I'd like feedback on whether this deserves continuation.
