Chapter 3– The Goat Man

Harry didn't waste any time contacting Aberforth Dumbledore. Before Harry went to bed the night of the wedding, he sent Hedwig out with a letter explaining his conversation with Professor McGonagall and asking about a time to meet. To his surprise and slight alarm, Aberforth's response was delivered the very next day.

H.P.-

We need to meet soon. Do not contact me again until you arrive here. M.M. has told you where to find me. Do not tell me or anyone when you are coming.

-A.D.

"He sounds a little scared," said Hermione.

"Do you think he's already been threatened by the Death Eaters?" asked Ron.

"Something in Dumbledore's things made him want to contact me right away. If the Death Eaters know that he has that kind of information he has every reason to be scared. We need to go as soon as possible."

"We can't let Malfoy know where we're going. If he went back to Voldemort, he could cause trouble for Aberforth."

Harry nodded and thought for a moment. "Ron, you stay here with Malfoy. Hermione, you and I will go to Hogsmeade after dark tonight. You'll go into the Hog's Head first, order a drink and sit somewhere you can see most of the room. If you see anyone suspicious, walk out. I'll come in twenty minutes after you and ask for him. We may go into a different room, but you stay and play look-out. If something happens try to get to me, but if you can't safely, then run. Any questions?"

Ron raised his hand as if in class. "I don't like the part about me baby-sitting Malfoy."

"It's only for a few hours– he won't even know we're gone. Besides, anyone could take one look at you and know you're a Weasley. Hermione blends in better."

As soon as supper was finished Malfoy excused himself to his room, which was perfect for Harry and Hermione to slip away unnoticed. Hermione doubled the wards and they stepped out into the back garden to apparate into Hogsmeade. Hermione did the apparition, as Harry was still two days away from being able to do it legally, and she took them to an alley down the street from the Hog's Head Pub.

"Wish me luck," she said before pulling up her hood and entering the deserted street.

Hermione ordered her drink -butterbeer- as planned and sat in the corner of the room. She'd noticed at the bar a hag watching her over the top of a glass of Firewhisky. Even now, the old woman continued turning on her stool to look at her. Hermione, getting increasingly uncomfortable, wondered if she should leave before Harry came in. But then it was too late for escapes; the hag was coming toward her. Hermione gripped her wand in her pocket, prepared to defend herself.

"Mind if I sit down dearie?"

"Who are you and what do you want?"

The hag ignored this and took a seat across from Hermione.

"Lovely night."

Hermione didn't answer.

The hag leaned closer and whispered, "I hear this is where the famous Dumbledore's Army got its start." Hermione's mouth hung open in a way that very much resembled Ron. That voice was so familiar . . . "Yeah, it's me, Tonks."

It was. It had to be, but . . .

"I need proof it's really you."

The old hag glanced about the room, making sure no one was watching.

"Okay, watch my eyes." And sure enough, for a moment only the hag's eyes turned from dark brown to the lightest blue Hermione had ever seen.

"Tonks! What are you doing here?"

"We've been stationed here since Minerva told us about what Aberforth said."

"Who else...?"

"Just a few who wouldn't be recognized as being in the Order. And me. The advantages of being a metamorphagus. Is Harry with you?"

"He's coming. Is it safe?"

"Mostly . . . One that we know is a Death Eater has been around, but we can't make any moves on him since he's never been charged with anything. All we can do is watch. We think he's just scouting the place. He left a while ago and there's no sign of anyone else."

"I feel so much better about this knowing you're here."

At least twenty minutes had passed. Harry pulled his black cloak around him, hood covering much of his face, and started across the street. The pub was still as dark and dirty as he remembered it. Even the stale smell of Firewhisky was the same. An unfamiliar man stood behind the bar and, after a quick survey of the room, Harry approached him.

"I'm looking for Aberforth Dumbledore."

"Who's askin'?"

"That is none of your concern. Is he here?"

"In the back. Been back there a lot lately." He went to a door and swung it open, revealing a store room with shelves of Firewhisky. "Aber! Ye got a visitor!"

An old, weathered man appeared in the door frame moments later, looking terrified.

"Who's there?"

Harry waited until the other bar tender left before he lifted his hood enough to show off his lightning bolt scar. Aberforth's eyes widened and he quickly motioned Harry into the back room and to a rickety staircase. If the smell was disturbing out in the bar, it was nauseating in the back room. Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. It reminded him of driving out in country, perhaps to a farm. Horrified, Harry remembered something Professor Dumbledore had told him once about his brother and a goat.

"I live upstairs here, see?" He explained as they went up the creaking stairs. "Owned the pub for forty years–Albus helped me buy it. Several times he tried to get me to live at his place, but I couldn't take any more from him."

"I am sorry for your loss. He was a great man."

"Hogwarts won't be the same without him. Hell, our whole world won't be the same without 'im! There we are." They had reached Aberforth's living quarters, which Harry found to be even shabbier and dustier than the downstairs. "Sit down. Here we have some privacy."

"Professor McGonagall told me you were asking about me."

"Yeah. I got goin' through Albus' things and realized who should really have a lot of it. He left a letter for me, dated about a year ago." He took a folded piece of parchment out of his inner robes pocket and handed it to Harry.

Harry at once recognized the flowing script written in green ink. "Are you sure you want me to read this? It's personal, isn't it?"

"Go ahead. There ain't nothin' I need to hide from you."

Dear Brother,

You've called me old for many years now, but I may finally believe you. For why else would I be writing this? I can only hope that you shall not be receiving this for many years, but alas, I feel my time coming. None of us ever really know when that time is; therefore I wish to say things here and now that I may never have the opportunity to say in person.

Firstly, I would like you to know that despite everything, you never stopped being my little brother. I love you just as I did when we were kids. I fear that you have suffered much for being related to me, just as others have, and I am sorry.

Secondly, many of my things bear information very sensitive in nature. Much of it has to do with (as I'm sure you have guessed) Lord Voldemort. You, being my only living relative and executor of my estate, are free to view these things. However, I feel it is in your best interest not to. I know your desire to remain out of another war. It is imperative that this information is passed on to Mr. Harry Potter. I did not want to draw attention to his part in the resistance by mentioning his name in my will, so it is up to you. It is my wish, brother, that you help him in any way you can to complete his task.

It has become clear to me in recent weeks that I shall not see the end of this adventure. I am too old, too tired, and have made too many mistakes... Some which I regret more than can be expressed. I shall spend the rest of my time making up for them in hopes that it will be enough.

Please do this for me, Aberforth. And do not grieve for me, for we will meet again. Until then, I will always be

Your loving brother,

Albus

Harry had tears in his eyes at the end. It was dated just a few weeks after the fight at the Department of Mysteries. How did Dumbledore know even then that he would die? Did he suspect Snape?

"Did you look at the things he mentioned?"

Aberforth nodded. "And I never been sorrier for anything neither. Some horrible things in there. But I kept going because it was interesting, you know? Up till I got to the part where he talked about how to kill You-Know-Who. Didn't want to know, so I stopped there. My brother liked to solve things, and that's what got 'im killed. I reckon just havin' his stuff here more'n likely will get me killed too. No thanks. Had too many close calls on account o' him. Not that I didn't ask for it most o' the time. And I ain't blamin' him neither. Fact is, I already got word from Death Eaters that they want his stuff. I told 'em I didn't have anything. Said he must'a left anything important with the Order of the Phoenix. I don't expect that to get 'em off o' me, but worth a try. What else could I do? Minerva posted Order members here to look after me. I can't run. Too old, too tired and no one ever runs from You-Know-Who. He always finds 'em."

"So you don't know how to defeat him?"

"No, sir. If they got 'hold o' me they'd find out, and that wouldn't do you or me any good. I stopped. Truth is, I bin considerin' havin' you memory charm the little bit I do know. He said it in 'is letter; I don't want to be in another war. I been in enough of those, what with the first one with You-Know-Who and the mess with Grindelwald back when we were younger. No sir. Had enough."

Harry nodded.

"You're welcome to it all. I took out his private journal from when he was young. I'll be keepin' some of his awards and special things. All them silver things he had in his office... well, I ain't too sure what to do with 'em, but maybe I'll donate them to the school. Don't know what most of 'em do anyways. I got his pensieve all packed up in that box for you."

"Are you sure there's nothing in there you..."

Aberforth waved him off. "Ain't nothin' but trouble in there. I been Albus' brother long enough to know trouble when I see it. His journals are in there too."

"'Journals?' Plural?"

"It's everything from the time You-Know-Who started at Hogwarts as a kid. There are some places where it's mostly personal, but then it goes back to him once he started getting power. Some of those bits I read. They cover the better part of sixty years. If you think you need anything from before that let me know."

"Thank you."

The old man nodded and pointed to the clutter on the table. "You can take whatever books there you might need. I never been the book type. Whatever you need will be here. Even if I'm not."

Harry looked at him and really saw him for the first time. The same blue eyes. Long gray hair, but not as tidy. Tall and thin, but obviously from having a rougher life. He was most certainly Professor Dumbledore's brother. The average person wouldn't have seen any similarities. In fact, most would say that this dirty barman couldn't possibly have anything in common with one of the greatest wizards who ever lived. Harry could see just the smallest hint of his mentor in this man though. He could see the same grief that they had all felt since that night.

"Look, sir, if you need a safe place to go..."

Aberforth smiled sadly. "There's no place for me, boy. I appreciate whatever it was you were about to offer, but I'm fine here. Albus obviously wanted you to have his things. He must'a believed in you. If you want to do something for me you can finish what my big brother started. Kill the bastard."

"I will. You have my word."

Hermione kept looking at her watch anxiously. It seemed like Harry had been up there for hours, although reality said it had only been ten minutes. There was a queasy feeling building in her stomach that she couldn't quite explain. Tonks had gone back to her post at the bar and the Order of the Phoenix was there to help them. They were as safe as anyone could be these days. But something just wasn't right.

She was just setting her mug of butterbeer down when something small in the opposite corner caught her eye. It was quite possible that she was merely seeing things, but then again...

Her eyes fixed on the corner of the room, Hermione slowly made her way through the sparse crowd. She got more than a couple strange looks, including from Tonks, but she didn't stop to explain. She saw the movement again. Just a brief little flick of something going into the kitchen area. She sped up and poked her head in the doorway.

"Shit."

She spun around, whipping her wand out as she went and ran back out to the main part of the bar and to the hag who had already stood to meet her.

"Tonks, they know we're here. That was Peter Pettigrew in his animagus rat form!"

"You're sure?"

"How many rats have you seen boldly walk through a room full of people– even in this place? He must have seen me following him too because he was on the run. I didn't even have a chance to hex him."

"Go up the stairs and get Harry. You can't apparate in here. Get out any way you can and apparate as soon as you're outside the building. I have enough men here to hold them off, but I don't know for how long. Hurry!"

Hermione didn't have to be told twice. She ran up the stairs and burst in the first door she saw. Harry and an old man were standing and he was holding a package.

"Wormtail is here. We think he's gone to get the others."

"'We?'"

"Tonks is here and some others. We have to go NOW!"

Harry turned back to Aberforth while Hermione shrunk the two boxes of Dumbledore's things.

"Thank you for everything."

"Ya better hurry."

"Will you be OK?"

"Don't you worry 'bout me. My big brother taught me a few tricks you know."

Harry nodded and followed Hermione. They started down the stairs, but Tonks called up to them that the way was blocked.

"Where else is there?"

"Go up this next flight of stairs. There's roof access on the next level and ya should be able to disapparate there," Aberforth said from his door frame.

They didn't waste any time. They ran up the stairs and threw themselves through the roof door and into the calm night sky. They could hear shouts from below.

"Is Tonks OK?"

"Harry, we don't have time to find out. Grab onto me and I'll get us out of here."

"But what if she needs our help?"

"She's an auror, Harry. Let's go."

And with a crack they arrived back at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Ron was waiting for them in the kitchen and jumped up when he saw them come in obviously shaken.

"What happened?"

"Death Eaters. We're fine though. Tonks had Order members there. And speaking of Tonks, I'm going to owl her. I want to make sure she lets us know when she's home safe."

"Should we owl Remus and have him find her?"

"What if it's intercepted? No, she will have alerted who she needs and I'm sure they're fine. Go put the stuff away. I'll take the books to the library, but I think his personal things should be in a safe place." She paused briefly to enlarge the packages. "Your room maybe?"

"Has Malfoy asked about us?"

"He hasn't been down since dinner."

"That was hours ago," said Hermione, a little worried. "Usually he's around again before bed. You haven't checked on him?"

"Since when do I have to do bed checks? I try to avoid the prat if you hadn't noticed."

Hermione ignored Ron's attitude and looked to Harry.

"I'll check on him after I take care of this."

Harry trudged up the stairs with the box containing all of Dumbledore's secrets. After they were carefully tucked away in the locked cupboard, he crossed the hall to Malfoy's room and knocked.

"Come in."

He found the blonde sitting in the arm chair next to the window. Draco didn't bother to look up to see who was visiting him.

"You hadn't been down since dinner, so we wondered if you were okay."

"I haven't taken a knife to my own wrists yet, if that's what you're asking, Potter."

"I didn't say that. We just- Well, you're usually around the house after supper and, well, you could have been sick or something."

Malfoy still didn't look away from the window. "Or I could have used my vast knowledge of the Dark Arts to escape and tell the Dark Lord all of your secrets."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, that too."

"You were out this evening."

Now Harry was slightly alarmed. "Who says?"

Draco slowly turned his head toward the door, eyebrow raised. "My window faces the back yard, Potter. I didn't see you leave, but I saw you and Granger apparate in."

"Oh."

"You never said I wasn't allowed to look out the window, but I'll stop if it's that important to you."

"No, that's fine. I just didn't think about that."

"You don't think much, do you?"

"Yeah, maybe I'm not the fastest mind on earth, but I am the fastest seeker," said Harry with a smirk. Malfoy had seemed a little depressed– not that anyone could blame him– and Harry wanted desperately to lighten the mood.

"I doubt it, Potter. In a one-on-one Seekers game I'd kick your ass."

"Well, maybe you'll have to try to prove that one of these days."

"As if you'd let your prisoner anywhere near a broom."

"Well, at the moment I'm sure Hermione would forbid it. Besides, we don't have much of a place to play. But when we go... Well, I'm not planning on staying in this house forever, so maybe then we'll have a place to fly."

Malfoy's eyes lit up a little then. "Could we really fly?"

"I don't see why not. I really miss it."

"Me too. I miss being out in the open at all, but I especially miss flying. I think most of the last year was spent indoors. It gets old."

"Well, maybe you could go with us when we go out to get supplies."

"I'd like that," said Draco with a small smile. A strand of blonde hair fell into his eyes then and Harry was suddenly reminded of the situation with Raul the previous day. The shock of it interrupted Harry's train of thought and he began stuttering as he made his way for the door.

"Uh, yeah. Me too. Er... well, it's getting late. I better be going."

He couldn't get out the door fast enough and then nearly ran into Hermione in the hallway.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yep. Everything's great. Malfoy's in there and great. But I'm a bit tired. See you in the morning."

Before Hermione could get a word in, Harry had reentered his room and slammed the door. This was not happening to him. Getting the letter from Aberforth had put Raul completely out of his mind and Harry didn't care if he never thought of it again. But he did think of it and it confused him more than the initial encounter. At least when Raul was there Harry could imagine that it was his secret veela powers that had him so worked up. But now there was no excuse. He couldn't deny what he had always somewhat suspected. But what exactly did this mean? He knew he had been attracted to girls. There was Cho, and then Ginny. So it wasn't as if he was gay, right? And he didn't have anything against gay people anyway. No one he knew had ever been gay, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had always said that fags were disgusting. And if the Dursleys hated someone, Harry reasoned, they couldn't be too bad.

But there was a difference between accepting gay people and actually being gay, right? No, Harry found that thought to be perhaps the most hypocritical thing he'd ever come up with. As if it was good enough for other people, but certainly not for him. So maybe he wasn't entirely straight. Did it really matter? No, he decided. It didn't really matter to him. But what about the rest of the wizarding world? It wasn't a subject they taught at school, nor one that came up in most conversations. Harry knew that in muggle Britain it was more or less accepted, other than by those like the Dursleys. Or at least it was getting there. But how open-minded was the wizarding world? In many other ways wizards seemed very old-fashioned, very traditional. Did that include sexuality? What about his own best friends? Would they be open to this?

Harry decided that he would worry about that if and when he had to. If he survived the war there would be plenty of time to work out his sexuality. Now was not the time to worry about coming out. Harry lay down in bed smiling to himself. He finally had a secret that was just his. He didn't share it with his friends, or Voldemort. No one needed to know and Harry didn't have to deal with it yet. But somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what exactly it meant if he had these little reactions while talking to Malfoy. Gay might be one thing, but having a gay crush on Malfoy was absurd.