As always, thanks to our reviewers - especially Moon Goddess, for pointing those thingys out. :)


Back to the Beginning - "A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step." – Lao-tzu

It was dark out, and quite a ways past midnight. But without a breeze to rustle the trees, the balmy summer night had a tranquil air about it. The moon shone bright upon the quiet country, a lone escort to the hundreds of brilliant stars that speckled the blue-black canopy of sky like Weasley freckles.

High up on the weathered roof tiles of the Burrow, four lanky teenagers lay on their backs and stared at the sky. No one spoke as the quiet minutes ticked by, all of them feeling content just to be together. They had been coming up to the roof ever since Harry had returned from Godric's Hollow, at Ginny's suggestion. Flying up on brooms right after the sun set, they would lay four in a row, Ginny and Hermione always in the middle, Harry and Ron to either side, providing comfort in presence as they wiled away the night hours.

This particular night, the two Weasleys had already fallen asleep, leaving Harry and Hermione to gaze at the stars in companionable silence. Hermione's head was cradled in the crook of Ron's arm, her hand firmly clasped in the softly snoring redhead's. Harry gently held Ginny, who slept peacefully with a small smile on her lips.

Hermione shifted slightly, wiggling closer to Ginny. With her free hand, she reached over the slumbering girl and found Harry's hand. He grasped hers readily, reveling in the sudden comfort the small gesture brought.

Glancing down at Ginny, Harry heaved a wistful sigh. He wished sleep would come as easily and relaxingly for him, but there were too many troubling things on his mind.

Dutiful Hermione had already asked if he wanted to talk about what had happened at Godric's Hollow, but Harry had just shaken his head. What was there to tell? There had been nothing left.

But like precious good friends, the three of them understood. It was a silent understanding they had, accepting that he wanted to keep whatever he had seen to himself, and a hesitantly silent comfort they held out to him; but to Harry, that was enough. It was enough that they stood by him, and that they were willing to stay until the end.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"We love you," she whispered, and her voice was light and feathery in the warm air. The soft-spoken words seemed to drift over to him, as if on a cloud. "If you're scared, or lonely, or sad, tell us, and we'll be there. Wherever you're going, we'll go with you. All of us."

Harry nodded, because he couldn't say anything else. Ron, Hermione, Ginny; they were their own people. Putting a Full Body Bind on them was really the only way to keep them from following him, and he couldn't very well do that, unless he wanted their wrath to come crashing down on him.

"I wish this could last," Harry murmured back, and the stars in their heavenly loft seemed to wink at him. "I wish we could just stay here forever, like this."

"Mmm," Hermione agreed, squeezing his hand. "Forever…"

He suddenly felt as if Hermione had cast a soporific spell over him (which wasn't such an outlandish thought.) His mind seemed to drift away from his body, and, still grasping Hermione's hand, he closed his eyes with a yawn.


Harry opened his eyes to find himself in a bed, listening to thunder crash and bang outside. Startled, he quickly sat up, his hand scrabbling for the wand he'd stashed under his pillow. It took him a moment to realize he was in Ron's room. He blew his cheeks out, leaning his head back against the wall. Mrs. Weasley must have brought them all back last night, before the rain started to fall.

He glanced at the clock on the far wall, its mustard-yellow face starkly standing out against the bright orange background. Mrs. Weasley had hung it there recently, completely ignoring Ron's vehement protests about hideous colors. According to her, it was an antique clock, having had belonged to the grandfather of Ron's great-uncle's second cousin's aunt once removed (or something of the sort), and Ron should be proud to be the owner of a family heirloom with such an interesting history. Ron had muttered something fierce about hand-me-downs, but had failed to take the clock down.

Illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning, the clock's glinting silver hands indicated five-thirty. With a sigh, Harry turned his head away to stare at the ceiling. He wished he could go back to sleep, but knew that any attempt would be futile. The flashes of green light and Voldemort's high, cold laugh had recently begun invading his dreams again, and in this lonely room, where the sound of his own breathing was putting his nerves on edge, the vulnerability of his subconscious was infinite.

But at least Ron was here, lying but a nudge away, and Ginny and Hermione two rooms down. There really wasn't anything to fear. Just two days ago, Aurors from the Ministry had arrived to place wards on the Burrow, to keep unwanted visitors out and prevent anyone who had no business leaving from setting foot out of the door. Ron and Ginny had been quite indignant about this, for it had hinted that their parents didn't think them trustworthy, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't even deign to argue. In fact, Harry had never seen Mr. Weasley's face so stony. But too bad there aren't any wards that block nightmares, he thought bitterly. Even Hogwarts' enchantments couldn't repel dreams.

He closed his eyes, drawing his knees up to his chest. It couldn't even repel a traitor, he thought, wincing. The events that had taken place there, the scenes that had been burned into memories, no more than two months ago, were still raw wounds in his mind: The small area under the Astronomy Tower, marked off with shimmering golden lines; Hagrid, carrying the star-spangled purple bundle, every crag in his weathered face filled with tears; the tall, empty chair at the center of the staff table; and the hushed, stifling train ride back home, Lavender and Parvati's sniffling the only sound to accompany the rattle of wheels.

As Slughorn had said, in that room behind the gargoyle, would any parents be willing to send their children back to the school now? The fact that Death Eaters had gotten in, had stayed in long enough to wreak havoc and allow one of their number to kill the greatest wizard alive, was appalling. Hogwarts was supposed to be safe, people would whisper. It was supposed to be the most protected place in the Wizarding world. What more treachery could be bred in that castle, if the Headmaster's death could be brought about by one of his trusted colleagues?

But as Ron had pointed out, there was safety in numbers. Besides being a fortress in itself, Hogwarts could be easily defended, with so many wizards inside. And Harry was quite sure that his fellow students would not abandon their school so swiftly. Hadn't Sprout asserted her belief that if even a single student vouched for the castle to reopen, it should? If only he could go back, he'd have made sure the governors voted to keep Hogwarts running.

But then again, what was the old castle without Dumbledore? Harry sighed again. Reopening his eyes, he reached for the book on his bedside table – Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts. Retrieving his wand, he pulled the covers around himself and settled down to read about Blasting Curses.


"Ron and Ginny, I want you two outside to de-gnome the garden, now that it's cleared up a bit," Mrs. Weasley said as Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were finishing up breakfast. "And no buts about it," she added severely as they both prepared to complain. Ginny rolled her eyes and angrily stuffed the last piece of toast into her mouth as Ron groaned. "And Harry and Hermione, you wouldn't mind clearing up here?" Mrs. Weasley went on. "I've got somewhere I've got to go, but I'll only be a moment…"

"Sure, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, scraping up the last bit of scrambled eggs on his plate.

"Thank you, dear," she said as she swept past him, handbag dangling from one arm. "Now, don't any of you get into trouble, you hear?"

"Yes, Mum," Ron and Ginny said dully. "Goodbye, Mum."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head as she left the kitchen.

"Well, we'd better get started," Ron sighed, standing up. "She'll probably give it one of her Inspections when she comes back."

"Yeah," Ginny muttered darkly. "Inspection."

Harry grinned and grabbed her arm as she walked past, pulling her down to kiss her on the cheek. "Put a gnome in his shirt," he whispered in her ear.

She stifled a giggle as she followed Ron outside. Hermione had already gotten up and begun stacking the plates and collecting the silverware

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, there's a little thing called magic, see?" he said, taking out his wand. With a little flick, all the cups and dishes soared over to the sink and began to wash themselves. Hermione rolled her eyes and pulled out her own wand to direct the silverware into the suds.

"I didn't think you could do it," she teased. "Nonverbal cleaning spell? I'm impressed."

"I've been studying," Harry said nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. "And it's easier now that I can actually practice the spells."

"Harry – about that…" She sat down slowly, not meeting his eyes. Fidgeting for a moment, she finally took a deep breath and said quickly, "You can't go."

He groaned inwardly; he should've known she wouldn't give up so easily. He had thought it was strange, how little resistance she had put up before. "We've gone over this," he said sternly. "I don't want to do it either, but it's the only – "

"That's the thing, Harry!" Hermione said earnestly. "It's not the only way. You can go back to Hogwarts – it's only sensible. There are people there who can help you, people who know more about this fight than us. Honestly, Harry, what do we know? You said we can slip away in Diagon Alley, or at King's Cross – but then what? Have you ever thought about what to do next? You don't know where – or even what – the Horcruxes are. Were you planning on traveling cross-country, asking people if they've seen a Horcrux lately?"

"I – "

Hermione cut him off with a fierce look. "We haven't been brought up to live like that, Harry. We don't have any experience. Can you even imagine running around the streets like urchins, with nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat, and no time to relax because you're always worried about who's following you?"

"Hermione – "

"And one more thing," Hermione went on. "Somebody's bound to notice we're missing if we run off like that." She seemed determined to find everything that was wrong with Harry's plans. "We can't hide from the Order, Aurors, and Death Eaters for long. And with just what we know, anybody could track us down."

Harry sighed. She had a point – which was the problem with Hermione. She always had a point. And she looked as if she'd been setting up this argument ever since the funeral. "I know. I know it's ridiculous and stupid and that there's half a chance in a million that we can pull it off. But I can't go back to Hogwarts," he said. "If – "

"Rubbish," Hermione said firmly. "Hogwarts has everything – "

"You don't even know if it's going to reopen," Harry retorted.

"And if it doesn't, that ruins your plans, too," she shot back. "Going to Diagon Alley, King's Cross – that all depends on whether or not we return, doesn't it?"

He hadn't thought about that. Blast. Why did she have to be so smart?

So she can save your bloody arse, a snide voice said.

Yeah, but –

Admit it. Without her, you'd already be dead.

Yeah, but –

Shut up, Potter, and listen to her. You're not ready for this. It's not a movie, where people just haul off and fortuitously stumble across what they're looking for a day later. This isn't a fairy tale anymore, and you of all people should know it.

Harry looked back up at her. "I can't do it there," he said, knowing he'd already lost. He sounded pathetic. "I'll have to take classes, and finishing homework and studying for N.E.W.T.s will take too long. I can't waste time doing that anymore."

"Harry, everyone's here to help you, not hold you back," Hermione said sharply. "Don't think the things we learn in class are rubbish – we're taught things for a reason. Teachers are here to encourage you, teach you. You can't see it because you're so worried about Voldemort and Horcruxes, but you know that you couldn't have made it this far without the people you're trying to blow off – "

" – I'm not blowing them off, it's – "

" – Like Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Lupin, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, Madam Pomfrey – they're all doing things behind the scenes that you don't realize. And if you go now and – and tell them to shove off and then get yourself killed, what would they do? What would we do? You're always telling us that you've got so many things to deal with, so many things to worry about. And we don't want you to have to worry about it. But every time we take it away, you always go looking for it. If I didn't know better – if you hadn't yelled it at us so many times – I would have thought that you wanted people to feel sorry for you. And I want you to understand, right here, right now, that you aren't the only one with problems. Mrs. Weasley – her whole family's in this war, but she still finds time to care and fuss over everyone, including you. You've seen her, Harry, you've got to admit – she's not well. It isn't healthy for her to be up all night, carrying that clock around just to make sure the hands don't stray toward 'dead.'"

Harry stared at her. She shook her head and sighed. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward, her pleading eyes boring into his. "If you can't think of it like that, then think of us. Think of Ginny. Her parents are in the Order; her father was attacked two years ago. Five of her brothers are fighting, and one's so loyal to you he'd kill himself if that meant you could live. The sixth has turned his back on everything he believes in and gone running to the Ministry. And worst of all, she's in love with a cursed hero who's got a prophecy to fulfill and only one in a thousand chance of living past the age of twenty. You know what it feels like to love. You know what it feels like to lose someone you love. We both know she's a strong, powerful witch – but what does that mean when you're up against Voldemort? Are you willing to drag her into who-knows-what out there, risking her life when you could both be safe in Hogwarts?"

"I told her she could stay," Harry said flatly. "I told her she should stay."

"But you know she won't, and you can't stop her," Hermione said. "Ron's going along with you because he doesn't know better – he's just like you – and he wouldn't leave you for all the Chocolate Frogs and butterbeers in the world. And me, I'm going because – I don't know, Ron's irrationality has rubbed off on me or something – "

A fleeting smile crossed her face as Harry covered up his snort of laughter with a cough, but it was soon replaced by a somber look.

"Please, Harry," she said softly. "I know it's hard" – Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes – "but we're just trying to make it easier. Schoolwork doesn't have to be first priority this year – I'm sure Professor McGonagall will understand. Everyone will."

Harry sat back and let out a long breath. She's right, the snide voice whispered. And you've known it all along. Go ahead, admit it. "You're right, Hermione," he sighed. "I didn't really have a plan. I just thought…things would happen, you know? I don't know how to do anything. I don't know how to find the Horcruxes, how to destroy them. And everybody's expecting all of this from me, and I know I can't let them down. But I don't know how not to. Everything's just so hard."

Hermione's eyes had glazed over. "Oh, Harry," she said in a strangled voice. "We'll help you. Everybody will help you. We can find a way if we work on it together."

Harry put his head in his hands. "I don't know, Hermione…I don't know."

"We will," she said determinedly. "And…" She leaned forward until they were only inches apart. "Promise me," she whispered, taking his hand, "promise me you won't – that you'll make it out of this mess alive.

Harry looked up into her hopeful eyes, shining with tears. He said the only thing he could.

"I promise."


"Harry's got something to tell you two," Hermione informed Ron and Ginny as they sat down – Ginny next to Harry on his bed, Ron on the floor with his head against the bedpost, and Hermione at Ron's desk.

Ron merely grunted in reply, looking none too chuffed. Mrs. Weasley had kept him and Ginny outside for an extra half hour to dig out weeds because they had trampled her rhododendrons.

"I, er, decided to go back to Hogwarts," Harry said, looking down at his hands. "I didn't really have much of a plan, and Hermione convinced me I was being stupid – "

"I did not say that," Hermione said indignantly.

Harry grinned. "Not out loud."

Ron was looking extremely relieved. Ginny slipped her hand into his and squeezed it. "So it's reopening?" she asked.

"Well, uh," Harry said, glancing at Hermione for help, "we don't know for sure – "

"Professor McGonagall will make sure it does," Hermione said firmly.

Ginny looked satisfied with this. "Good," she said. "Hogwarts closing would scare people more than anything else. Even though Dumbledore's gone" – Harry noticed the small catch in her voice as she said this – "there's plenty of people to defend it against Voldemort. I suppose Professor McGonagall will be Headmistress?"

"Who else is there?" Hermione said, sighing. "But that means we'll have a new Transfiguration teacher, too."

"A nicer one, I hope," Ron grumbled.

"Nicer isn't better," Hermione admonished.

Ginny shook her head. "So if you're going back, what are you going to do? Are you going to take classes and N.E.W.T.s and everything?"

"He'll be searching for Horcruxes," Ron said. "And we'll help you. D'you reckon Madam Pince will let us into the Restricted section?"

Hermione shook her head. "We've already looked there, and there's nothing that mentions them. We'll have to find out some other way."

"Sorry to interrupt this lovely conversation," Ginny interjected, "but would anybody mind explaining what a Horcrux is?"

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione; the looks on their faces told him they'd forgotten they hadn't told Ginny about the Horcruxes too. And Harry remembered that he still hadn't told any of them how he'd gotten the locket and what exactly had happened the night Dumbledore died.

"They're, well…they're really Dark magic," Harry said, feeling uncertain as how to explain it. "Objects a person can put a bit of their soul in. So if a body is killed, that person isn't really dead because there's still a bit of soul out there in a Horcrux."

Ginny sat up, her forehead creased in consternation. "Your soul? That – it – so that's what Voldemort did? That's why he didn't die, when his body was destroyed? Because he had a Horcrux?"

"Not a Horcrux," Harry said grimly. "Seven of them."

Ginny's shock had seemed to reach its peak; she didn't say a word as Harry continued. "Whenever you murder someone, it tears your soul apart. Splits it into two. And there's a spell that lets you put half of that into a Horcrux. Voldemort did it six times. The seventh piece is in his body."

He could see Ginny's mind – the part that had already accepted and gone past the dreadfulness of what she'd heard – working furiously to sort things out.

"So there are six Horcruxes," she said slowly. Harry nodded, and Ginny grimaced. "But they could be anywhere. He wouldn't have left them lying around."

"Exactly. And that's why we have to find them and destroy them. If we can get rid of the Horcruxes first, then with only one-seventh of a soul left in his body, Voldemort should be weaker and easier to kill."

"But you've already destroyed some of them, haven't you?" Ron said.

Harry nodded slowly. "There's only four left now. Or possibly three. Dumbledore destroyed one last year – that's why his hand was all black and dead-looking. Riddle's diary" – Harry glanced at Ginny and saw the slight flinch in her eyes – "was the second. And then there's this."

Harry reached into his pocket and withdrew the gold locket, holding it up so Ginny could see. Harry took a deep breath. "The night he died, Dumbledore told me he had found another Horcrux. He offered me the chance to go with him. I took it."

Three pairs of eyes were staring intently at him, but he didn't notice. He had closed his eyes, remembering the night, the cave. "There was a cave, and Voldemort had set up wards, kind of, that we had to get past. Inside, there was a big lake filled with Inferi… The Horcrux was in a basin across the lake. It had this green liquid in it, and you had to drink it all to get the Horcrux. Dumbledore…he made me promise to give it to him, even if he told me to stop…" Harry's voice had dropped to a painful whisper. "He drank it all. I don't know what it did, but he screamed…kept telling me not to give it to him, kept saying he'd done something wrong, that he should be hurt instead of other people. The Inferi attacked, but he got back to his feet and drove them away with fire. We took the locket from the basin, left the cave. And when we got back to Hogwarts…"

He leaned his head back against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the tears not to leak out. He felt Ginny wrap her arms around him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes again a moment later, feeling a roaring anger replace the grief. "It was all for nothing," he said quietly. He looked down at the locket in his hand and clenched his fist around it. "Someone had already taken the real one and left this in its place."
"Taken?" Ginny asked incredulously, sitting up straight.

Harry opened the locket and passed the piece of parchment inside to Ginny. She scanned it quickly, then looked up with troubled eyes. "R.A.B.?"

"We don't know who he is," Harry said. "Could be anybody. And we don't even know whether he really destroyed it or not, because it says he stole it and intended to destroy it."

"And…the other ones?" Ginny asked tentatively.

Harry shrugged, letting his shoulders drop heavily. "I don't know," he admitted. "Dumbledore figured they would be things the Founders' used to own, because Voldemort liked important things."

"What was the one Dumbledore had destroyed?" Ginny asked. "The one that made his hand black?"

"The ring," Harry said. "Marvolo's ring. He was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, and the ring was an heirloom."

Hermione cupped her chin in her hand, brows furrowed. "So…" she said ruminatively. "If that was Slytherin's, and the locket was Slytherin's…the remaining three must be something of Hufflepuff's, Ravenclaw's, or Gryffindor's, right?"

"He got something of Gryffindor's?" Ron asked, looking astonished.

"It's possible," Harry said. "But Dumbledore didn't think so, because the only remaining relic of Gryffindor was his sword, which was in Dumbledore's office."

"That's not all," Hermione said suddenly. "The Sorting Hat. It used to be Gryffindor's. It was in Hogwarts, A History."

"The Sorting Hat?" Ron scoffed. "A Horcrux?"

"I'm not saying it is," Hermione said testily. "Just that it was once Gryffindor's."

"Ron's right," Harry sighed. "A Horcrux wouldn't be singing in front of the entire school in broad daylight. It's got to be something hidden, something we probably don't know much about." He rubbed his temples. "Hufflepuff had a cup that belonged to an old lady Tom Riddle knew. He killed her and probably stole the cup, too, so that could be one of them."

"How would we find it?" Ron asked. "Accio Hufflepuff's cup?"

"Don't be a prat, Ron," Hermione said crossly. "You can't even summon your broom from here, how do you expect to transport a cup from who-knows-where?"

Ron crossed his arms and grumbled something unintelligible. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Grow up, Ron."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, getting increasingly irritated. "There was one more thing…Dumbledore mentioned that Nagini could be a possibility."

"Nagini," Hermione repeated. "Voldemort's snake?"

"Animals can be made into Horcruxes?" Ginny asked, frowning. "Wouldn't that interfere with the snake's soul?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't got the slightest idea, but I reckon Nagini's being possessed, since Voldemort's soul is stronger than the snake's."

"That would make sense," Hermione mused. "And I suppose finding a snake is easier than finding an inanimate object."

"How do you destroy Horcruxes?" Ginny asked, looking perplexed. "Like, how would you destroy a locket? I know Riddle's diary was destroyed with basilisk venom… And – oh my God," she said, her eyes widening.

"What?" Ron asked quickly, half-rising from the floor.

Ginny looked down at Harry's hand, and Harry immediately caught her line of thought. "Dumbledore's hand," he said softly. "I don't know what happens when the Horcruxes are destroyed. Dumbledore never told me how he got rid of Marvolo's ring. I've been studying Blasting Curses and Exploding Jinxes, but I don't know if they'll work. I don't know about the after-effects, either."

"Wouldn't the fact that you're the Chosen give you some sort of…I dunno, safeguard?" Ron said. "Nothing happened to you after you destroyed Riddle's diary."

"We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" Harry said grimly. "We don't exactly have expendable people we can experiment with."

"This is all the more reason you shouldn't go gallivanting by yourself," Hermione said reproachfully. "You can go to the Hospital Wing if anything happens, but out there? You'd have to depend on us."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Definitely a scary thought."

Ginny smirked. "Especially with Ron around."

"Hey! I'm not that useless," Ron said indignantly.

"Right. Only 99 useless," Ginny snickered.

"Well, we have been studying a bit," Hermione said, "and Ron's not too bad with charms."

Ron looked smugly toward his sister, who rolled her eyes.

"I've been thinking," Harry said, feeling that it was time for a change of subject, "didn't Dumbledore have a brother?"

"Aberforth," Hermione supplied.

"Didn't he get arrested for something?" Ron said, scratching his head. "Something about a goat, I think. Didn't seem like much of a brilliant bloke."

"Yeah, Dumbledore told me he couldn't read, either," Harry snorted. "But wouldn't they still have kept in touch? I mean, they're brothers, after all."

"But he can't even read," Ron said. "What good is a guy who can't read?"

"Reading isn't everything," Hermione said. "He – "
"I'm sorry," Ron said, staring at her in shock. "Could you repeat that? Reading isn't everything?"

"Of course it's not, don't be a prat," Hermione sighed. "Do you think he could be part of the Order? He could have been working for Dumbledore under cover, sort of like a spy…maybe Dumbledore made him sound a little dim so that people wouldn't suspect him. It sounds rather ridiculous that Albus Dumbledore's brother couldn't read…"

"Then how come we've never seen him before?" Ginny asked. "He's never been to an Order meeting, has he?"

Harry frowned. "I think we have," he said hesitantly. "Seen him, I mean. Mad-Eye showed me a picture of him once, when he was part of the original Order, and…" He took a deep breath. "I think he's the barman at the Hog's Head."

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny stared at him.

"The Hog's Head," Hermione said. "You don't mean that grimy old man with the beard?"

"Yeah, him," Harry nodded. "I always thought he looked familiar, and I think it's because I saw that picture of him before."

"But what would he be doing in the Hog's Head?" Ron asked.

"Well, lots of things are said in bars," Ginny deliberated. "Especially when people get drunk. And the Hog's Head's known for having suspicious people, isn't it? So Aberforth would overhear things the rest of the Order couldn't, and then he'd report to Dumbledore later."

What had Dumbledore said last year? Merely friendly with the local barmen. It all made perfect sense to Harry. Hadn't Hagrid told him the Hog's Head was usually filled with odd people? Somebody had sold him a dragon egg there, which was illegal. And if smugglers frequented the pub, then why not Death Eaters? Valuable information could be gleaned from eavesdropping on conversations, and no one would ever suspect a grumpy-looking old barman of secretly plotting against Voldemort.

"Well then, we need to talk to him, don't we?" Harry said.

"But Harry, we're not even sure it's him," Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. "There's no harm in asking, is there?"
"You're just going to go up to him and ask, 'Are you Aberforth Dumbledore?'" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Why not?" Harry said nonchalantly. "If he says no, then he's not and we're wrong. If he says yes, then, well, brilliant."

Really, what did they have to lose? If the barman was Dumbledore's brother, he could provide them with bits and things he'd overheard and maybe tell them more about the Dumbledores. Everything he'd never had the chance to ask the Headmaster could be answered. Aberforth would know how his brother found a Horcrux and destroyed it, wouldn't he? Aberforth would know how Dumbledore became so powerful; how he knew so many languages…maybe he'd even know who R.A.B. was.

And if it wasn't Aberforth…well, they'd be no worse off than they were now. Besides, he thought, it's time we started taking matters into our own hands.


Up Next: A return to Hogwarts reveals a mysterious, unexplained absence on staff and prompts whispers from the students.

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