Fred, Angelina, we had to save them! Panic threatened to consume me until I looked at George's blue eyes. They were terrified, I'd never seen him so scared. My head cleared instantly and I moved my head, I grabbed my purse and noised inside it until I found the gold Galleon.
I pulled it back out with my mouth and laid it in front of me. I tried to type something with my paws, but they were too big, to clumsy. I looked back up and met George's eyes, they were still wide and scared. I nudged it towards him with my nose, he looked at it uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then his eyes lit up. He scampered forward and started to move his tiny paws extremely fast. He typed a message out at lightning speed and before I could blink, he had typed a message up.
We waited for a moment, all of our eyes on the gold galleon.
"Where did you all go?" A deep, gruff, voice asked. I jumped, but t he cloak was big enough that none of us showed. I had completely forgotten that he had sent us up, that he would be coming for us.
I nudged my head out from under the robe, pulling the purse with me. I nosed around inside it until I found my wand. I pulled it out and gripped it in my teeth, a moment later I was human again. I dropped the wand in my hand and turned towards the barman. I grabbed the other wands out of my bag and pushed them under the cloak. A moment later, Ron and George stepped out. Harry stayed under the cloak, not because he distrusted the barman, but because it was better safe than sorry.
"What the blazes were you all thinking, coming here?" The barman asked, looking at us like we were crazy.
"Thank you," Harry's disembodied voice said, ignoring his question. "We can't thank you enough. You saved our lives!"
The barman grunted. We were quiet for an awkward moment, and then Harry spoke again.
"It's your eye I've been seeing in the mirror. You're Aberforth, you sent Dobby."
The barman nodded his head, looking slightly excited. "Thought he'd be with you." He said quietly. " Where've you left him?"
"He's dead," Harry said quietly, "Bellatrix Lestrange killed him."
The barman face was impassive. After a few moments he said, "I'm sorry to hear it, I liked that elf." My eyes had filled with tears and I was having to fight back a sob. Normally George would have wrapped his arm around me when he was I was close to tears, but he hadn't taken his eyes off the Galleon.
"I thought you might be hungry." The barman said after a moment. He pointed towards a table behind him that was holding a tray of food, bread, cheese, and a jug of some sort of liquid. Ron and I stepped forward, Harry was still invisible and George was staring at his Galleon. I made three sandwiches and stepped back. I gave one to George and another to Harry before eating my own. Once I finished it I made three more and gave George and Harry another. We hadn't eaten anything the entire day, and I hadn't realized until then just how hungry I was.
"Right then," Aberforth said once we had eaten. "We need to think of the best way to get you out of here. Can't be done by night, you heard what happens if anyone moves outdoors during darkness: Caterwauling Charm's set off, they'll be onto you like bowtruckles on doxy eggs. Wait for daybreak when curfew lifts, then you can put your Cloak back on and set out on foot. Get right out of Hogsmeade, up into the mountains, and you'll be able to Disapparate there. Might see Hagrid. He's been hiding in a cave up there with Grawp ever since they tried to arrest him."
"We're not leaving," Harry said. "We need to get into Hogwarts."
"Don't be stupid, boy," Aberforth said quickly.
"We've got to," Harry answered. George stepped up behind me and gave my arm a gentle tug. I turned my head towards him and stepped back. He pulled me closer to him and then handed me the galleon. I looked down at it and saw a simple message.
D E's paid PW a visit. We fought got held back, we're all fine. We'll apparate straight to HH. River will be with. See you in a mo.
I looked up from the galleon and didn't even bother to hide my smile. George was smiling in relief, shaking slightly. I laid my hand on his arm, gripping it gently before I pulled him into a partial hug. He was trembling, I'd never felt him tremble before. I'd also never seen him that close to losing his brother before. No one really realized just how close the two of them were. I held him tightly, and then I realized I was shaking too. I'd been worried too. I couldn't imagine a world without both the twins in it, I'd be devastated if I lost George, I wouldn't know how to continue. Losing Fred though, it would be awful, George would be lost, unable to function properly. I'd lose a man who was almost a brother, as well as a dear friend, and I'd lose a large piece of George.
"My brother Albus wanted a lot of things," Aberforth said bitterly, "and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans. You get away from this school, Potter, and out of the country if you can. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He's gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don't owe him anything."
I think George and I had missed a part of this conversation.
"You don't understand." Harry said quietly, looking sad.
"Oh, don't I? Aberforth replied just as quietly. "You don't think I understood my own brother? Think you know Albus better than I did?"
"I didn't mean that," Harry said, and he sounded so tired it made my heart ache. He needed rest so badly, he'd been under constant pressure, never being able to relax his guard. Honestly, ever since he came to Hogwarts he'd been under constant pressure, he'd been under the threat of Voldemort coming back for his first three years, and then he had come back and tried to kill Harry more times than I could count.
"It's... he left me a job." Harry said, rubbing his head in the way he always did when he had a headache. I was a minute from cutting in and telling Aberforth to can it.
"Did he now?" Aberforth said sneering. "Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you'd expect an unqualified wizard kid to be able to do without overstretching themselves?"
An unqualified wizard kid? Harry had fought Voldemort more times than anyone else, he was anything but unqualified.
"I-it's not easy, no," Harry replied. "But I've got to - "
"Got to? Why got to? He's dead, isn't he? Let it go, boy, before you follow him! Save yourself!"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I - but you're fighting too, you're in the Order of the Phoenix - "
"I was, The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different's kidding themselves. It'll never be safe for you here, Potter, he wants you too badly. So go abroad, go into hiding, save yourself. Best take these three with you." He jerked a thumb at Ron, George, and me. "They'll be in danger long as they live now everyone knows they've been working with you."
"I can't leave," Harry said again. "I've got a job - "
"Give it to someone else!"
"We can't!" George said fiercly, stepping forward.
"Why not?" Aberforth demanded, looking a little surprised by George's sudden interjection. I was extremely grateful for it though, Harry was looking paler by the minute.
"Because someone has to fight him, and excuse of is we're not quite so ready to throw in the towel!"
"Hey now, I didn't say-"
"The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who's won." George said, in painfully good imitation of Aberforth. "Listen, he gave us the job for a reason, it had to be Harry-"
"Oh, did he now? And did he tell you everything, was he honest with you?"
"No, he was killed before he could. He actually died trying to protect Harry, he died trying to tell him everything!" Harry's eyes grew wide at George's exclamation, he looked taken aback. He lowered his head and brought a hand up to his head, it looked like he was having an internal debate.
"I knew my brother. He learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus... he was a natural."
The old man's eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece. I realized with a jolt just who it was off.
"Mr. Dumbledore" I asked timidly. "Is that your sister? Ariana?
"Yes. Been reading Rita Skeeter, have you, missy?" I blushed, feeling as though I'd just been accused of something awful.
"Elphias Doge mentioned her to us," Harry said quickly, protectively.
"That old berk," muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. "Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the
looks of it."
Well, apparently something really bad had happened, he was extremely bitter.
"When my sister was six years old, she was attacked, by three Muggle boys. They'd seen her doing magic, spying through the back garden hedge: She was a kid, she couldn't control it, no witch or wizard can at that age.
What they saw, scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge, and when she couldn't show them the trick, they got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak doing it. It destroyed her, what they did: She was never right again. She wouldn't use magic, but she couldn't get rid of it; it turned inward and drove her mad, it exploded out of her when she couldn't control
it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was sweet and scared and harmless.
"And my father went after the bastards that did it, and attacked them. And they locked him up in Azkaban for it. He never said why he'd done it, because the Ministry had known what Ariana had become, she'd have been locked up in St. Mungo's for good. They'd have seen her as a serious
threat to the International Statute of Secrecy, unbalanced like she was, with magic exploding out of her at moments when she couldn't keep it in any longer.
"We had to keep her safe and quiet. We moved house, put it about she was ill, and my mother looked after her, and tried to keep her calm and happy. I was her favourite. Not Albus, he was always up in his bedroom when he was home, reading his books and counting his prizes, keeping up with his correspondence with "the most notable magical names of the day.
He didn't want to be bothered with her. She liked me best. I could get her to eat when she wouldn't do it for my mother, I could calm her down, when she was in one of her rages, and when she was quiet, and she used to help me feed the goats.
Then, when she was fourteen... See, I wasn't there. If I'd been there, I could have calmed her down. She had one of her rages, and my mother wasn't as young as she was, and . . . it was an accident. Ariana couldn't control it. But my mother was killed."
I felt repulsed and pity at the same time, as well as fear. It was all twisting a knot in my stomach, leaving me feeling nauseous. I stepped closer to George, wrapping my arm around his waist. Aberforth couldn't stop, he'd probably never told anyone what he was telling us.
"So that put an end to Albus's trip round the world with little Doge. The pair of 'em came home for my mother's funeral and then Doge went off on his own, and Albus settled down as head of the family. Ha!"
Aberforth spat into the fire.
"I'd have looked after her, I told him so, I didn't care about school, I'd have stayed
home and done it. He told me I had to finish my education and he'd take over from my mother. Bit of a comedown for Mr. Brilliant, there's no prizes for looking after your half-mad sister, stopping her blowing up the house every other day. But he did all right for a few weeks . . . till he came."
And now a positively dangerous look crept over Aberforth's face.
"Grindelwald. And at last, my brother had an equal to talk to someone just as bright and talented he was. And looking after Ariana took a backseat then, while they were hatching all their plans for a new Wizarding order and looking for Hallows, and whatever else it was they were so interested in. Grand plans for the benefit of all Wizardkind, and if one young girl neglected, what did that matter, when Albus was working for the greater good? But after a few weeks of it, I'd had enough, I had. It was nearly time for me to go back to Hogwarts, so I told 'em, both of 'em, face-to-face, I told him, you'd better give it up now. You can't move her, she's in no fit state, you can't take her with you, wherever it is you're planning to go, when you're making your clever speeches, trying to whip yourselves up a following. He didn't like that Grindelwald didn't like that at all. He got angry. He told me what a stupid little boy I was, trying to stand in the way of him and my brilliant brother . . . Didn't I understand, my poor sister wouldn't have to be hidden once they'd changed the world, and led the wizards out of hiding, and taught the Muggles their place?
And there was an argument . . . and I pulled my wand, and he pulled out his, and I had the Cruciatus Curse used on me by my brother's best friend - and Albus was trying to stop him, and then all three of us were dueling, and the flashing lights and the bangs set her off, she couldn't stand it - "
The color was draining from Aberforth's face as though he had suffered a mortal wound, and I realized with a consuming horror were this tale was leading. I clung to George tighter, fighting the urge to bury my head in his shoulders and block out the terrible images that were coming to my mind.
" - and I think she wanted to help, but she didn't really know what she was doing, and I don't know which of us did it, it could have been any of us - and she was dead."
His voice broke on the last word and he dropped down into the nearest chair. Tears wer flowing down my face unhindered, it was terrible. That poor girl, poor Aberforth, poor Dumbledore, how had they lived with that?
"I'm so . . . I'm so sorry," I whispered, unable to think of what to say, but not able to bear the terrible silence.
"Gone," Aberforth croaked. "Gone forever." He wiped his nose on hiss cuff and cleared his throat.
" 'Course, Grindelwald scarpered. He had a bit of a track record already, back in his own country, and he didn't want Ariana set to his account too. And Albus was free, wasn't he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest wizard of the - "
"He was never free," Harry cut in, his voice oddly resolved.
"I beg your pardon?" Aberforth asked.
"Never," Harry stated, and his voice was heavy with belief and conviction. "The night that your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn't there. 'Don't hurt them, please . . . hurt me instead.' He thought he was back there with you and Grindelwald, I know he did. He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana . . . It was torture to him, if you'd seen him then, you wouldn't say he was free." A heavy silence fell over us and we all turned towards Aberforth expectantly. Tears were filling his bright blue eyes again
"How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn't more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren't dispensable, just like my little sister?"
"I don't believe it. Dumbledore loved Harry," I said, angered and fearful. I knew Dumbledore loved Harry, anybody who had seen his face during forth year when Harry had been taken by Barty jr. would know it.
"Why didn't he tell him to hide, then?" Aberforth shot back. "Why didn't he say to him, 'Take care of yourself, here's how to survive' ?"
"Because," Harry interrupted before I or anyone else could answer, "sometimes you've got to think about more than your own safety! Sometimes you've got to think about the greater good! This is war!"
"You're seventeen, boy!"
"I'm of age, and I'm going to keep fighting even if you've given up!"
"Who says I've given up?"
"The Order of the Phoenix is finished," Harry repeated, "You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different is kidding themselves."
"I don't say I like it, but it's the truth!"
"No, it isn't." Harry said, his voice strong again, sure. "Your brother knew how to finish You-Know-Who and he passed the knowledge on to me. I'm going to keep going until I succeed - or I die. Don't think I don't know how this might end. I've known it for years." Tears once again filled my eyes and I had to fight them down. I hated the thought of losing Harry, of losing my best friend.
"We need to get into Hogwarts," Harry said after a moment. "If you can't help us, we'll wait till daybreak, leave you in peace, and try to find a way in ourselves. If you can help us - well, now would be a great time to mention it."
Aberforth stood up stiffly and walked over to Ariana's portrait. "You know what to do," he said. She smiled, turned, and walked away, not as people in portraits usually did, one of the sides of their frames, but along what seemed to be a long tunnel painted behind her. I watched her slight figure retreating until finally she was swallowed by the darkness.
"Er - what - ?" Ron began, voicing our confusion.
"There's only one way in now," said Aberforth. "You must know they've got all the old secret passageways covered at both ends, dementors all around the boundary walls, regular patrols inside the school from what my sources tell me. The place has never been so heavily guarded.
How you expect to do anything once you get inside it, with Snape in charge and the Carrows as his deputies. . . well, that's your luck, isn't it? You say you're prepared to die."
"But what . . . ?" I asked, still staring at Ariana's picture. A loud crack sounded from downstairs and even though I had been expecting it I still jumped and almost screamed. We all grew silent, Harry, Ron and Aberforth from fear, George and I from excitement. A moment later a thunder of feet sounded up the stairs and Fred, Angelina, and Lee appeared in the doorway. They were dusty, and Lee had a nasty burn mark on one corner of his face, but they were otherwise unharmed.
"What'd we miss?" Fred asked, stepping into the room and up to George. He gave him a quick half hug before turning towards Aberforth.
"Hey Abe." He said cheerfully. Angelina and Lee had both walked in by now and I walked up to both of them, giving them quick hugs.
"Oi!" Ron exclaimed suddenly, pointing towards the portrait of Ariana. I turned around and looked back at the portrait. Ariana was walking back towards us, growing bigger and bigger as she came, but she wasn't alone now. Somebody else was with her, someone taller and buffer, and he was limping.
Then the portrait swung forward on the wall like a little door, and the entrance to a real tunnel was revealed. And our of it, his hair overgrown, his face cut, his robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom, who gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled.
"I knew you'd come! I knew it, Harry!"