"Rise and shine, boy!" Aberforth called out, heading downstairs from his sleeping quarters. Draco was passed out on one of the lumpy couches in the back of the pub, one hand clutching his mother's wand, and the other reaching towards the floor. Still in deep sleep, he only responded by shifting slightly on the couch, and skimming the floor with his hand.
Aberforth grunted irritably. "Wake up!" He shouted, nudging him with his foot.
"Nungh...uhhh...ohhh..." Draco responded sleepily, stretching his arms. Aberforth tapped him again. "Ahh!" he cried, covering himself up with the blanket, only to fall off the couch.
The large, wiry man chuckled and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Get up, boy. We have things to do."
Draco resisted the urge to throw Aberforth's meaty hands off of him, but instead he sat back on the couch and yawned. "What do you have in mind?"
"Work." Aberforth said, shoving a broom at him. "The pub opens up in 3 hours and I need this place spotless."
He blinked. "Sweep...?" he asked, almost uncertainly, holding the broom before him awkwardly. "Er..."
He heard gruff laughter once again. "Don't worry, I only kid. A bit of magic can put up this shop quickly!"
"Oh." He looked absolutely perplexed. "Why the he..." he swallowed. "Why must we wake up so early then?"
"I'd rather not wake up to the Dark Mark floating over my pub, thanks. Me and my goats...we could always escape just in time..."
Draco shifted uncomfortably, as Aberforth looked up towards the ceiling, apparently lost in some sort of a trance.
"Er..."
"I also wanted to talk to you about something." He said quietly. "Why are you here?"
Under scrutiny, he compulsively reached for his arm. "I told you. I never really murdered Granger, and I don't know why-"
"No, boy!" interrupted Aberforth. "Why are you here?"
"I don't know." He replied honestly. "I just ended up here, after..."
"After what?"
"Weasley...er...Ron and I..." he struggled to form Ron's name with his lips as if it were an Unforgivable Curse. "We had a row...and I left...and..." Draco's voice trailed off.
Aberforth sighed. "None of this adds up to me."
"What do you mean?"
"Where are you? What I mean by that is...what side are you on? You seemed awfully pleased about killing that Hermione Granger in the Prophet...Maybe I-"
Draco swallowed the anger bubbling up inside of him. "The Prophet..." he spat. "Also said that I was bloody dead. Shouldn't be trusted so much, should it?"
"You tell me why you, Harry Potter, and those Granger and Weasley kids were holed up in the Shrieking Shack, then." Aberforth replied triumphantly.
Draco froze. 'How the...'
"Speechless, I see." He produced a small mirror from his pocket. "I see everything."
A chill ran down Draco's spine. "I don't know." He said.
Aberforth looked puzzled. "What don't you know?"
"I don't know whether I should go back? I don't know what to do? You probably won't let me stay..." He stood up, as if ready to go, but was pushed back down to the couch.
"You don't know where you side?"
He nodded.
A dark shadow passed over Aberforth's face. "When you told me you saved...er...Hermia?"
"Hermione." Draco said quietly.
"Yes, Hermione. Why did you do it?"
He looked down at his feet, and scratched his neck. "Dunno..." he muttered.
"Get some sense into your head, boy!" Aberforth shouted suddenly. "Choose where you're loyal to, and stay there."
Draco looked taken aback. "Er...But-but I..." he sighed. "They're planning things without me, alright. I'll admit it. I'm different. I don't belong. I'm...neither light nor dark." Silence passed over the pub, and light washed over the walls, as the sun began to rise.
"GET OUT!" Aberforth yelled, a crazed look in those piercing blue eyes. "GET OUT THEN!"
He stayed where he was, terrified for a moment.
"STOP DECIDING WHAT YOU THINK FITS RIGHT OR WRONG, AND JUST DO. D'YOU THINK MY BROTHER THOUGHT THAT, DID YOU?" he bellowed. "D'YOU THINK HE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT WHEN HE LEFT ME AND ARIANA FOR THAT FOOLISH LITTLE GRINDELWALD? WHEN HE ULTIMATELY DECIDED THAT SHE WAS TO GO WITH HIM?! THAT I WAS NO LONGER STABLE ENOUGH TO LOVE MY OWN SISTER..."
Draco shook his head, not quite sure of what he was opposing.
Aberforth seemed to calm down for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly. "My brother's last wishes were to watch Harry Potter, and aide him in his endeavors...But you, boy...You need to step out of the grey, and into the light."
"Maybe I belong in the grey."
"No such thing! Choose...and be done with it." And with that, Aberforth Dumbledore went back behind the bar, searching for something in one of the cabinets.
Draco sat on the couch, blankly. After all his years of living in the grey...Fate had decidedly pushed him to a decision. Inside, he knew light was where he truly belonged...yet...Fate had a funny way of pulling him back to the dark. Living in the grey became a habit, almost...a habit of discontinuity.
And...Surprisingly enough, Fate seemed to come in the bad-tempered, shrewd, bushy-haired form of Aberforth Dumbledore.
Author's Note- Hey. I'm disappointed because one of my favorite Youtubers missed an upload today *cough cough* Kingsley *cough cough*. So, of course I couldn't let that happen to you guys. I love you all so much, and I hope you liked today's chapter. Thank you for making my day, and reviewing. (When I first started posting this story, I expected some flames. Er...is it normal to not get any? Or am I just wierd?) At least I know I might be doing something right. :)