Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, sadly (otherwise I would be a billionaire by now, sigh). J.K. Rowling owns all the characters (except maybe a few) and most of the plot.
Chapter 7 – The Hog's Head
Blood dripped onto the pavement and the running figure of a Death Eater could just be spotted near the other end of the street. Dean ran behind the nearest building, hiding behind its walls, his invisibility cloak now gone. Peering around the corner, he caught site of the man who had stopped outside a shop with the sign 'Gladrags Wizardwear', squinting into the street.
With a sudden realization and pounding heart, Dean saw that he was in the wizard village of Hogsmeade and was hiding behind none other than the derelict pub in which Dumbledore's Army had first met; The Hog's Head.
The wizard was beginning to advance down the street, Dean jerked his head back. There was a shuffle of footsteps behind him, he turned around and saw nothing, but felt a cold fear spread through him from head to toe. Heart beating extremely fast now, Dean poked his head again and saw to his surprise that the Death Eater had stopped and was retreating from the front of the Hog's Head. Before Dean could walk away from Hogsmeade, the back door of the pub flew open and the owner almost grabbed blindly for a few times before he finally made contact the Dean's arm.
"Ow!" Dean couldn't help exclaiming when the barman had brushed past his injury.
"Shut up boy, or there'll be more of them coming," the bar owner said in a gruff whisper.
Dean was dragged into the grubby and dusty interior of the deserted Hog's Head, through the door behind the counter and up a rickety wooden staircase into a sitting room with a threadbare carpet, a fireplace and a large oil painting of a young, sweet-looking blonde girl.
The pub owner never let go of Dean's arm and with his wand prodded Dean's head with it. At once the chilly sensation he had felt before was replaced with a comforting warmth oozing down his body.
"Yer pale, yer've lost a lot of blood I gather," and the man disappeared, returning shortly with a bottle labeled, "Essence of Dittany". He applied two drops of this on Dean's wound and greenish smoke began to swell upwards, when it cleared, Dean's injury looked a few days old, the blood had stopped bleeding and new, raw-looking skin was in the process of growing.
"Any idea who performed the Disillusionment charm on you?" he asked.
"The what?" thought Dean.
The sound of people entering the pub from the floor below halted their conversation, "Stay here, don't move, and keep silent," warned the bar man quietly as he placed the dittany on a small table on top of a copy of the Prophet from a few weeks ago.
Bits of the conversation floated up the stairs. Most were incomprehensible mumblings about potions or some other magical substances that Dean could not relate to. His mind, instead, drifted onto the newspaper which he silently read. A thought had been bothering him ever since he set foot into the Hog's Head and as Dean read the article, the nagging suspicion in his mind was confirmed.
The newspaper was dated sometime near the beginning of the summer holidays, the picture of Dumbledore which accompanied the article was what attracted Dean. He had read Elphias Doge's obituary of Dumbledore before and now sat about skim reading it, knowing there was something in here that he needed to recall…
"Three years after we had started at Hogwarts, Albus's brother, Aberforth, arrived at school. They were not alike; Aberforth was never bookish…"
"Did you see anything fishy going on?"
The comment which had reached Dean's ears from the conversation downstairs stopped his reading as he strained to hear more words. Whoever had asked it, the question was framed more like an accusation. Dean tried to follow the dialogue more closely, but as if purposely trying to mock him, the voices had lowered and Dean could not hear any sound at all.
When at last the bar owner climbed up the stairs again, Dean was relieved that there was no Death Eater following behind him. Instead the bright blue eyes and wiry, grey hair verified that this man was Aberforth Dumbledore.
"Mr Dumbledore?"
Being able to say "Dumbledore" again and actually call someone by the name seemed to have enkindled a new sense of hope and reassurance in Dean. The fact that Dumbledore had a sibling felt like wonderful, glorious news, and a promise that Albus's work would continue and that Voldemort would be thwarted.
However, Aberforth did not reply and simply bent down to pick up the dittany and return it to its original place, he hesitated for a second and also picked up the copy of the Prophet throwing it in the bin along the way.
"Mr Dumbledore?" Dean tried again, warily.
Aberforth, now looking at a mirror perched on the mantelpiece of the fireplace and had his back to Dean, snapped, "Don't call me that."
"Er…Aberforth?"
There was no reply.
"Forthy?"
"Abey?"
"Berfor?"
"Mr Aberforth Dumbledore?"
"ALRIGHT, JUST CALL ME ABE."
"Abe, can I ask you a few questions?" Dean's eyes followed Aberforth as he reached for the chair beside him, trying to interpret his reaction and whether or not he was going to be snapped at again.
"No, keep your questions to yourself," Aberforth grunted.
Dean hesitated before asking, "Do Death Eaters come here often?"
This was clearly not the question Aberforth was expecting because soon enough, he answered.
"Now and then, they drop in for a visit. Especially as there's more and more of 'em, soon they'll be dementors running 'round the place, it's not a good idea for you to stay, boy."
"I have no where to go," said Dean quietly, more to himself than anybody else, though when these words came out he did contemplate returning to the Longbottom's.
"Then stay here, it'll be safe for a few days at least. How's your arm?" he grumbled.
"It's good."
"Well good then," Aberforth repeated.
"Wait," Dean said as Aberforth raised from his seat, "Forgot to ask you" –
- "More questions?" groaned Aberforth.
"Just…what was that about a Disillusion Charm?"
"Disillusionment Charm," corrected Aberforth, "Didn't you wonder why that Death Eater left you alone when he clearly saw something, fishy?"
"He…I don't know."
"Nah course you didn't, you just stood there gaping like a fish in a fishbowl," Aberforth grunted, "I'd be burying your body right now if someone hadn't made you invisible. That's what the charm does. You know its happenin' to you when there's that chilly sensation in your body."
Dean recalled the feeling now, like someone had poured ice water over his head, only it was a lot thicker.
"Did you see who did it?" he enquired.
"Think they wouldn't have used the Disillusionment Charm on themselves first, eh?"
"Right," said Dean.
"One more thing," said Aberforth.
"Hmm?"
"Don't let my name instill a sense of false faith in yer, as far as I'm concerned we're dead. Best if yer leave the country soon as you can boy."
"Your optimistic attitude is very encouraging," said Dean sourly.
-
There was nothing for Dean to do in the next few days except to keep up-to-date with the news and Aberforth's moody moments. Though it seemed more and more Death Eaters were arriving in Hogsmeade, Dean had gained a sense of security in the Hog's Head.
On the day Dean arrived in Hogsmeade, he was horrified to discover that Snape had become the new headmaster. The following day he had caught Aberforth talking to one of his client about a rumour that the Ministry being infiltrated by Harry, Hermione and Ron in a series of quick whispers.
Pius Thicknesse the new appointed Minister of Magic was waving from the covers of many Daily Prophets. Aberforth had said the man looked as thick as his name sounded and Dean could not agree less after reading proposed theories from the Quibbler that Thicknesse was likely to be under the Imperius Curse.
Hoot joined Dean after his first week at the Hog's Head and Aberforth had seemed to take a special liking to the owl. He would send it on errands and Dean had noticed on some nights, Hoot and he would sit by the only window of the second floor of the Hog's Head.
Despite the pessimistic manner of Aberforth, he had spent every night tuning his wireless in attempt to reach a station he proclaimed, "tells stuff the way it is." Dean also noticed an impassive attitude whenever Aberforth heard, read or saw anything concerning his brother.
"Aren't you sad that your brother's dead, Abe?"
"For all I know it was probably for the greater good."
"The greater good?"
"Lunchtime now boy, I'll bring some food up fer ya, eh?" and Aberforth hurried down the stairs.
"Wait!" called out Dean, "You never asked me my name."
Aberforth, now poised in mid-step, mumbled, "I'm not fussed with names, they never did me any good."
"I'm Dean Thomas."
"Well Mr Thomas, you want lunch or not?"
-
Dean woke up with a start to a frosty morning during the beginning of October, he had dreamed the cold sensation from the Disillusionment Charm again and had turned around to see who it was but found himself face to face with a dementor who was moving closer, its clawed hand gripping Dean's chin.
As he recalled his dream he realised something cold and smooth was in his hands, it was the tiny golden key Dean had picked up from the Leaky Cauldron. He had spent last night wondering who the brunette man was but at some stage, must have fallen asleep. He now returned the key to his pocket. Dean had spent every night sleeping in the sitting room. There was only one room, Aberforth's, and Dean had declined his offer to sleep in the grubby-looking room, at least in the sitting room it was brighter because of the window.
As if straight on cue, there was a tapping noise at the window. Dean threw the blanket off him and walked quickly towards it, it was Hoot and at its feet was a rolled piece of parchment. Dean swiftly opened the window and silently closed it again, careful to be quiet because Aberforth was still sleeping. Some of the chilly mist which was swirling outside had made its way into the room. Dean shivered but hungrily unrolled the parchment Hoot had delivered. It was a letter from Seamus and Neville. Dean had told them he was safe but declined giving any clues of his whereabouts, to the disappointment of Neville, and in particular, his grandmother.
Our artist friend,
Sorry it's been so long, ever since the incident at the station, Hogwarts has been monitored really closely and it's only loosened a little recently. They don't even let us go to Hogsmeade anymore.
They've questioned Malfoy about the whole fiasco but he couldn't remember a thing. Professor McGonagall said that it was likely Malfoy was under the Imperius Curse but she wouldn't say anything more. I think she knows that figure wasn't Harry, he wouldn't be so careless and appear in front of Death Eaters like that.
We have our suspicions though. Malfoy yelled out exactly when the Death Eaters were closing in on you, so we think someone was trying to help you out. Do you remember the witch at your house? It could be her.
Anyway be careful and don't trust anyone, there's definitely someone following you around, but I think if they were truly helping you, they would have presented themselves to you by now.
Seamus and Neville
Something in their definite tone alarmed Dean. He hadn't told them about the key and the Disillusionment Charm yet and decided not to, lest they become too worried. The thought that someone was following him sent shivers down his spine, none of his family were wizards and his friends, as far as he knew, were imprisoned at Hogwarts. Most importantly, he did not know of any witch who was intent on keeping him alive.
Suddenly a creaky noise filled the air which meant the door to the pub had just swung open and someone had entered. Dean could hear footsteps crossing quickly over the threshold and then, to Dean's horror, straight up the stairs.
"Do Death Eaters come here often?"
"Now and then, they drop in for a visit."
But he didn't mention they'd be coming up the stairs.
Dean quickly whipped out his wand from his jeans pocket, which he had slept in, and cried, "Expelliarmus!"
A willowy wand flew through the air and rested gently in Dean's left hand. The remainder of the stairs was quickly climbed and Aberforth emerged from the stairs.
"I save your life and you disarm me? Is this what they teach you at Hogwarts? I knew Al wasn't a promising headmaster. Now gimme my wand back," Aberforth demanded.
"S…sorrry," stammered Dean, "I thought you were still sleeping cause the door to your room was closed and…uh…thought it might be one of those Death Eaters…yeah," he finished.
"Speaking of which," said Aberforth as he pocketed his wand and gave Dean a plate piled with toast for breakfast, "I was just out on the street chattin', an' it appears that the dementors are starting to arrive, see the mist," here Aberforth beckoned to the window, "There's also talk that a Caterwauling Charm's gonna be put into effect as well as a curfew."
Dean continued chewing his toast patiently, though he was already considering his options.
"The dementors have already placed a charm so that no one can disapparate from Hogsmeade. I suggest you leave today, before the ''ole lot o' them come," said Aberforth.
"But how do I leave and where can I go?"
"Where can I go?" hollered Aberforth, "Leave the country Dean, find somewhere safe and peaceful where there ain't any wizards and live a content muggle life, what's wrong with that?"
"But can't I ever come back? When it's over?"
"COME BACK? COME BACK? IT'S NEVER GOING TO BE OVER, ALBUS WAS WRONG, AND YOU-KNOW-WHO WINS. THAT'S HOW THE STORY ENDS."
Dean was taken aback by Aberforth's sudden outburst, but the man continued.
"Stupid Albus, the arrogant fool, thought he could save the world, but all he ended up doing was get everyone around him killed and brainwashed the rest of them into believing it was all for the stupid greater good." Aberforth sunk into the couch and buried his head in his hands, the girl in the portrait had a sad expression on her face.
Hoot, who had been observing the conversation in silence, now left the mantelpiece and rested on Aberforth's shoulder.
"Sorry Abe," said Dean quietly, sensing conflict between the two brothers, "What I meant was, how am I going to get out of here if I can't disapparate?"
Aberforth sighed and looked at Dean, his brow was knitted in an expression of thought, "There's one way."
"What way?"
"Do you know how to produce a patronus?"
"No – well yes, in a room filled with friends and when I was feeling relatively safe and happy."
"Well that's sure gonna help cause dementors always make people feel happy."
-
Twenty minutes later, Dean had mounted on an ancient-looking broom which had once belonged to Aberforth's. Hoot flew beside him and his satchel was swung over his shoulder.
"Just watch out, there might be dementors up there, and they can sense you."
"Right…er…thanks. How am I going to return the broom?"
"Ah, keep it, I don't have time to fly around, I've been using the broom for cleaning ever since I opened the pub." No wonder the broom was hovering so enthusiastically. Every now and then it would emit a sound like it was revving up.
"Well it's misty today, so no use having a Disillusionment Charm, cause you don't know how to negate it anyway."
"Mm-hmm."
"I've also placed some money in your bag."
"You what?"
"It should last awhile till you get a muggle job," said Aberforth with emphasis on the word 'muggle'.
"Thanks Abe, I don't know how to thank you."
"Keep yourself safe so I don't regret saving yer."
There was an awkward silence before Aberforth added, "Oh and beware of snatchers, they'll be looking for muggle-borns like you."
"Thanks for the warning Abe," at this the broom hovered even higher, eager to fly off.
Aberforth who also noticed the sudden elevation stood back and said, "Well, it's lucky you're a chaser."
Dean nodded, "Bye Abe."
"Goodbye boy."
The broom, with a mind of its own suddenly lurched forwards towards the sky and when Dean looked back he saw Hogsmeade growing exponentially smaller. As he said one last goodbye to Aberforth in his mind, he realised that he had never told Aberforth he was a quidditch player.