I bring a hand to my throat, wondering where my voice has gone. I cough,
but no sound, not even of phlegm, escapes. I glance quickly at Albus, whose
eyes are twinkling merrily. I look anxiously back to the bartender.
He nods to his compatriot behind the bar and exits through the curtain in the back. Albus pulls me silently after him. Casting a non-perturbance charm on the curtain once we are through, my uncle turns to me, releasing my voice.
I fall into my grandfather's arms, where he has turned to watch our entrance. I smother myself against his beard, stinking on high of chewing tobacco and stale beer. Our arms go around one another and we embrace. An uncharacteristically huge smile is playing on my lips.
After a few moments, Aberforth backs me up. I stand still as he roves his eyes over me. Finally, his appraisal is finished. "You're too thin." he says simply.
I give a short bark of laughter. The first thing my grandfather says to me in nearly twenty years is a very grandmotherly thing to say. "You smell awful." I inform him.
He looks down at his apron, examining the strained and streak piece of cloth. He absently runs his hands on the bottom right corner. "It's not so bad. In any case, the clientele gets nervous if I look overly presentable."
I smirk at him. "Albus said you were back at Hogwarts." he says, nodding to his brother. Albus, I notice, is the embodiment of suppressed joy. "With Severus." my grandfather adds with a very obvious note of disapproval.
I steel myself against the comment, and choke down the immediate anger that rushes into my cheeks. "Yes." I say simply.
He looks at me carefully, as if choosing his next few words cautiously. When he does speak, his eyes are downcast. "I didn't come to your wedding because I didn't approve of the boy. . But," he says, lifting his eyes to mine, "I do approve of the man he has become. Even if it did take years of convincing from Albus."
I know from his gruff tone that the admission is a difficult one for him. I swallow and smile small. "Come here, little one. Your grandfather has missed you terribly." he says, pulling me in to yet another hug. The stench truly is intolerable. I back up for a brief moment, pulling my wand from my sleeve.
"Scourgify!" I say forcefully. Instantly, Aberforth's clothes lighten three shades, his beard whitens and the smell disappears. The resemblance between the two brothers intensifies. Aberforth gestures us over to three shorter beer barrels surrounding a makeshift table. We sit as he pours us all a mug of frothy beer.
As we sit, Albus fills in his brother of the goings on up at the castle. Most of it Grandfather already seems to know, however he raises his eyebrows almost off his forehead when Albus relates the story of my death. He clenches my hand tightly in his, visibly shaking. As Albus finishes his tale, he pulls me close again, closing his eyes as he kisses my forehead.
"You are behaving recklessly again, brother." Aberforth scolds. Though the tone is quiet he is close to breaking. There is intense energy flowing just beneath the surface. I shift my gaze quickly between them. I had not wanted to be the cause for an argument.
Albus flicks his hand carelessly. "It is nothing, Aberforth." he says simply. Grandfather releases my hand and stands. He begins to pace.
"Nothing, is it Albus?" he says. "Nothing?" he repeats. "Your entire life you have been obsessed with affecting the future. You have thought nothing of giving the lives of those you claim to love for the Cause and the furthering of the Plan. I was expendable, Bena here is expendable, Severus certainly is; I even believe that you would sacrifice the boy for the Plan, Albus, and you love him dearly. You love all of us. Being loved by you is a dangerous gift."
I have shrunk into myself, my eyes downcast. This is unpleasant. There are several reasons the Dumbledores do not get together very often. We have a tendency to fight amongst ourselves. It is a proudly accepted trait that to be a Dumbledore one must be headstrong, charismatic, and forceful. Currently, Aberforth is headstrong, I am making no attempt to be charismatic, and Albus is beginning to be forceful.
Grandfather stops in his paces to glare at his brother. Albus stands to meet his gaze. The both seem to swell themselves, much like walruses fighting for dominance. The backroom fills with a breeze, the candles flicker. Magical energy is crackling through the room. Oh dear.
They begin to circle one another. Damn. Gathering my strength, I stand and place one hand on either of their chests. Separated physically from looking at one another, my rather large head blocking their view, and the moment broken, they both shrink back down into the gentle and sweet old wizards the world knows them to be.
I do not meeting either of one of them in the eye. Eventually, they both sit down, each grabbing their mug and sipping mutely. I join them, take a large swig, wipe my hand on my mouth and stay silent. Looking grudgingly at me, Grandfather extends his hand across the table. Albus, after a tense moment, grasps it. Immediately, the level of light in the room raises again to normal levels.
The two brother look at one another again and commence chuckling. I roll my eyes. They have always done this. They have always fought with one another. The main difference today is that I stopped them before the spells flew. I remember quite vividly during the summer between my second and third years at school, walking in to my uncle's office at Hogwarts only to find a purple striped octopus with six tentacles and two bear claws sitting a meter away from a hedgehog blowing bubblegum and wearing socks. I remember, on that occasion, sitting down, pulling the octopus onto my lap and petting it. I knew the hedgehog was my uncle by the socks and was unwilling to provide it with sympathy. Minerva fortunately came in at that moment and set them right. Then, the two of us proceeded to scold them both. They had looked guilty for a moment, then started laughing, much as they are now. Though, this time, the stakes are much higher.
We slip in to easy conversation and talk through the rest of the afternoon, the near-fight forgotten. My grandfather reaches over absently throughout the hours to pet my hand, or run his fingers through my hair, as if physically proving to himself I am indeed present. Too soon, Albus shuffles me and we walk back to the castle as dusk is falling.
A light snow begins to fall as climb the hill. "He's missed you." Albus says unnecessarily.
"And I him." I respond.
"Do you understand why I brought you there today?" he questions.
I bring my right hand up to pull back my hood and turn to look at him, "To show me there is always someone else being affected by my actions. I understand that very clearly now, thank you, uncle."
"I also thought you might simply like to see him."
"Yes, I know. Thank you for that."
The snow crunches under our feet as we continue up to the stone steps. A figure is silhouetted in the doorway. Minerva. As we pull close, Albus lifts his face to her.
"The Minister is here, Albus. He says it is urgent." she informs him curtly.
"I am sure it is, Minerva. My child," he says, turning to me, "the Order is assembling in two hours time. You will be able to join us?"
I nod and walk past the two of them. I must steel myself for the nights activities. First, to face the den of lions that is the Order of the Phoenix. Then, the pit of snakes that are the Death Eaters. An interesting series of events planned. Sighing, I enter my rooms to prepare.
He nods to his compatriot behind the bar and exits through the curtain in the back. Albus pulls me silently after him. Casting a non-perturbance charm on the curtain once we are through, my uncle turns to me, releasing my voice.
I fall into my grandfather's arms, where he has turned to watch our entrance. I smother myself against his beard, stinking on high of chewing tobacco and stale beer. Our arms go around one another and we embrace. An uncharacteristically huge smile is playing on my lips.
After a few moments, Aberforth backs me up. I stand still as he roves his eyes over me. Finally, his appraisal is finished. "You're too thin." he says simply.
I give a short bark of laughter. The first thing my grandfather says to me in nearly twenty years is a very grandmotherly thing to say. "You smell awful." I inform him.
He looks down at his apron, examining the strained and streak piece of cloth. He absently runs his hands on the bottom right corner. "It's not so bad. In any case, the clientele gets nervous if I look overly presentable."
I smirk at him. "Albus said you were back at Hogwarts." he says, nodding to his brother. Albus, I notice, is the embodiment of suppressed joy. "With Severus." my grandfather adds with a very obvious note of disapproval.
I steel myself against the comment, and choke down the immediate anger that rushes into my cheeks. "Yes." I say simply.
He looks at me carefully, as if choosing his next few words cautiously. When he does speak, his eyes are downcast. "I didn't come to your wedding because I didn't approve of the boy. . But," he says, lifting his eyes to mine, "I do approve of the man he has become. Even if it did take years of convincing from Albus."
I know from his gruff tone that the admission is a difficult one for him. I swallow and smile small. "Come here, little one. Your grandfather has missed you terribly." he says, pulling me in to yet another hug. The stench truly is intolerable. I back up for a brief moment, pulling my wand from my sleeve.
"Scourgify!" I say forcefully. Instantly, Aberforth's clothes lighten three shades, his beard whitens and the smell disappears. The resemblance between the two brothers intensifies. Aberforth gestures us over to three shorter beer barrels surrounding a makeshift table. We sit as he pours us all a mug of frothy beer.
As we sit, Albus fills in his brother of the goings on up at the castle. Most of it Grandfather already seems to know, however he raises his eyebrows almost off his forehead when Albus relates the story of my death. He clenches my hand tightly in his, visibly shaking. As Albus finishes his tale, he pulls me close again, closing his eyes as he kisses my forehead.
"You are behaving recklessly again, brother." Aberforth scolds. Though the tone is quiet he is close to breaking. There is intense energy flowing just beneath the surface. I shift my gaze quickly between them. I had not wanted to be the cause for an argument.
Albus flicks his hand carelessly. "It is nothing, Aberforth." he says simply. Grandfather releases my hand and stands. He begins to pace.
"Nothing, is it Albus?" he says. "Nothing?" he repeats. "Your entire life you have been obsessed with affecting the future. You have thought nothing of giving the lives of those you claim to love for the Cause and the furthering of the Plan. I was expendable, Bena here is expendable, Severus certainly is; I even believe that you would sacrifice the boy for the Plan, Albus, and you love him dearly. You love all of us. Being loved by you is a dangerous gift."
I have shrunk into myself, my eyes downcast. This is unpleasant. There are several reasons the Dumbledores do not get together very often. We have a tendency to fight amongst ourselves. It is a proudly accepted trait that to be a Dumbledore one must be headstrong, charismatic, and forceful. Currently, Aberforth is headstrong, I am making no attempt to be charismatic, and Albus is beginning to be forceful.
Grandfather stops in his paces to glare at his brother. Albus stands to meet his gaze. The both seem to swell themselves, much like walruses fighting for dominance. The backroom fills with a breeze, the candles flicker. Magical energy is crackling through the room. Oh dear.
They begin to circle one another. Damn. Gathering my strength, I stand and place one hand on either of their chests. Separated physically from looking at one another, my rather large head blocking their view, and the moment broken, they both shrink back down into the gentle and sweet old wizards the world knows them to be.
I do not meeting either of one of them in the eye. Eventually, they both sit down, each grabbing their mug and sipping mutely. I join them, take a large swig, wipe my hand on my mouth and stay silent. Looking grudgingly at me, Grandfather extends his hand across the table. Albus, after a tense moment, grasps it. Immediately, the level of light in the room raises again to normal levels.
The two brother look at one another again and commence chuckling. I roll my eyes. They have always done this. They have always fought with one another. The main difference today is that I stopped them before the spells flew. I remember quite vividly during the summer between my second and third years at school, walking in to my uncle's office at Hogwarts only to find a purple striped octopus with six tentacles and two bear claws sitting a meter away from a hedgehog blowing bubblegum and wearing socks. I remember, on that occasion, sitting down, pulling the octopus onto my lap and petting it. I knew the hedgehog was my uncle by the socks and was unwilling to provide it with sympathy. Minerva fortunately came in at that moment and set them right. Then, the two of us proceeded to scold them both. They had looked guilty for a moment, then started laughing, much as they are now. Though, this time, the stakes are much higher.
We slip in to easy conversation and talk through the rest of the afternoon, the near-fight forgotten. My grandfather reaches over absently throughout the hours to pet my hand, or run his fingers through my hair, as if physically proving to himself I am indeed present. Too soon, Albus shuffles me and we walk back to the castle as dusk is falling.
A light snow begins to fall as climb the hill. "He's missed you." Albus says unnecessarily.
"And I him." I respond.
"Do you understand why I brought you there today?" he questions.
I bring my right hand up to pull back my hood and turn to look at him, "To show me there is always someone else being affected by my actions. I understand that very clearly now, thank you, uncle."
"I also thought you might simply like to see him."
"Yes, I know. Thank you for that."
The snow crunches under our feet as we continue up to the stone steps. A figure is silhouetted in the doorway. Minerva. As we pull close, Albus lifts his face to her.
"The Minister is here, Albus. He says it is urgent." she informs him curtly.
"I am sure it is, Minerva. My child," he says, turning to me, "the Order is assembling in two hours time. You will be able to join us?"
I nod and walk past the two of them. I must steel myself for the nights activities. First, to face the den of lions that is the Order of the Phoenix. Then, the pit of snakes that are the Death Eaters. An interesting series of events planned. Sighing, I enter my rooms to prepare.