Disclaimer: I am not Timothy Zahn or J.K. Rowling.
After the battle, Goldstein and Aberforth gather in the latter's headquarters on the Hog's Head, where they discuss their recent victory against the Ministry.
Aberforth. [awed] One man.
Goldstein. Well, we helped some.
Aberforth. And without the Magic, too.
Goldstein. [shrugs] That's what Ginny said. Though of course Potter might have lied to her about it.
Aberforth. Unlikely.
Outside the Hog's Head, Aberforth notices Harry and Ron helping an injured Dean onto a broom.
Took a shot, did he?
Goldstein. Came close to taking one of mine, too. I thought he'd betrayed us, figured I'd make sure he didn't walk away from it.
Aberforth. In retrospect, it's just as well you didn't.
Aberforth and Goldstein look up toward the sky, anxiously worrying about Ministry retribution.
Goldstein. We might still be able to hunt down the other two assault brooms before they get a chance to report. I don't think the headquarters people got any messages away before we took them out.
Aberforth. [shakes his head] No. There's no way to cover up our part in what happened here, not from a man like Grindelwald.
Goldstein. You're probably right. You want me to head back and start the evacuation?
Aberforth. Yes. And take Ginny with you. Make sure she keeps busy, somewhere away from the Ford Anglia and Potter's Firebolt.
Goldstein. Right. See you later.
Exit Goldstein.
As the broom containing Dean takes off toward the Anglia, Aberforth approaches Harry and Ron, who head for a separate broom.
Ron. Aberforth. I owe you one.
Aberforth. [nods] Are you still going to get the Lion out of impoundment for me?
Ron. I said I would. Where do you want it delivered?
Aberforth. Just leave it in Norfolk. Someone will pick it up. [to Harry] An interesting little trick. Unorthodox, to say the least.
Harry. [shrugs] It worked.
Aberforth. That it did. Likely saving several of my people's lives in the bargain.
Harry. Does that mean you've made your decision?
Aberforth. [smiles] I don't really see as I have much choice anymore. [to Ron] I presume you'll be leaving immediately?
Ron. As soon as we can get Harry's Firebolt rigged for towing. Dean's doing okay, but he's going to need more specialized medical attention than the Anglia can handle.
Aberforth. It could have been worse.
Ron. [voice hardens] A lot worse.
Aberforth meets Ron's hard gaze with one of his own.
Aberforth. So could all of it.
Ron. Yeah. Well, so long.
Harry and Ron mount the broom.
Aberforth. One other thing. Obviously, we're going to have to pull out of here before the Ministry figures out what's happened. That means a lot of lifting capacity if we're going to do it quickly. You wouldn't happen to have any surplus cargo or stripped-down military broomships lying around I could have, would you?
Ron. We don't have enough cargo capacity for the Wizards' Council's normal business. I think I might have mentioned that to you.
Aberforth. Well, then, a loan, perhaps. A stripped-down selkie cruiser would do nicely.
Ron. I'm sure it would. I'll see what I can do.
The broom lifts off.
Exit Aberforth.
Harry and Ron arrive at the Ford Anglia. After settling Dean in on the Anglia and leaving Percy and Hedwig to watch over him, Harry joins Ron in the cockpit of the Anglia.
Harry. Any problems with the tow cable?
Ron. Not so far. The extra weight's not bothering us, anyway. We should be all right.
Harry. Good. You expecting company?
Ron. You never know. Aberforth said there were still a couple of assault brooms and a few racing brooms unaccounted for. One of them might have figured that a last-ditch suicide run was better than having to go back to the Grand Admiral and report.
Harry. Grand Admiral?
Ron. Yeah. That's who seems to be running the show now for the Ministry.
Harry. I thought we'd accounted for all the Grand Admirals.
Ron. Me, too. We must have missed one.
Once the Anglia has placed twelve kilometers between them and the hinkypunk-filled forest, Harry's magical powers are returned to him. He sighs with relief.
Harry. I don't suppose you got a name.
Ron. Aberforth wouldn't give it to me. Maybe we can bargain the use of that selkie cruiser he wants for it. [frowns at Harry] You okay?
Harry. I'm fine. I just . . . It's like being able to see again after having been blind.
Ron. [snorts] Yeah, I know how that is.
Harry. I guess you would. I didn't get a chance to say this earlier . . . but thanks for coming after me.
Ron waves his hand dismissively.
Ron. No charge. And I didn't get a chance to say it earlier . . . but you look like something the cat dragged in.
Harry. My wonderful disguise. Ginny assures me it will wear off in a few more hours.
Ron. Yeah, Ginny. You and she seemed to be hitting it off pretty well there.
Harry. [grimaces] Don't count on it. A matter of having a common enemy is all. First the forest, then the Ministry. She wants to kill me.
Ron. Any idea why?
Harry opens his mouth, then hesitates.
Harry. It's something personal.
Ron. [glances at Harry oddly] Something personal? How personal can a death mark get?
Harry. It's not a death mark. It's something . . . well, personal.
Ron. [still not understanding] Oh.
Ron returns his attention to his piloting.
Harry. You know, I never did find out what region this was.
Ron. It's called the Isle of Drear. And I just found out this morning. I think Aberforth must have already decided to abandon the place, even before the battle. He had real tight security around it when Dean and I first got here.
Once the Anglia passes the Isle of Drear's gravity well, Ron glances at the navigation computer.
Good. Our course is already programmed in. Let's get out of here.
Harry. Where are we going? London?
Ron. A little side trip first. I want to swing by the Nimbus broom company, see if we can get Dean and your Firebolt fixed up.
Harry. And maybe find a selkie cruiser to borrow for Aberforth?
Ron. Maybe. I mean, Murcus has got a bunch of stripped-down broomships ferrying stuff to the Nimbus region already. No reason why we can't borrow one of them for a couple of days, is there?
Harry. [sighs] Probably not. I suppose London can do without us for a few more days.
Ron. I hope so. But something's about to happen back there . . . if it hasn't happened already.
Harry. Maybe we shouldn't bother with Nimbus, then. Dean's hurting, but he's not in any danger.
Ron. [shakes his head] No. I want to get him taken care of. And you, buddy, need some downtime, too. I just wanted you to know that when we hit London, we're going to hit it running. So enjoy Nimbus while you can. It will probably be the last peace and quiet you'll get for a while.
Exit the Anglia, into Apparition.
