One: Beyond Hogwarts
Beyond the door lay a tunnel: a steep descent with stairs going all the way down until the tunnel turned. It probably went downwards beyond that turn too. The brass lamps that hung from the walls cast a pale light, their shadows rippling and dancing as they stepped inside. Snape's spellwork had assured they could both walk, but it had done little for their exhaustion. Ginny missed a step every other step and would have tumbled down the stairs had Astoria not grabbed her by the arm.
"Let's take it slow, alright?" Astoria said, smiling behind the blood and soot that covered her face. "I mean, if you break your neck I'll spare you the ignominy and tell everyone you died at the hand of Rookwood, but I'd rather not tell that tale altogether."
"Let's," Ginny agreed. Her body still wanted to run and dash and her fingers reached for her wand, but that was just the leftover adrenaline speaking. The fight was over, at least for today. And impossibly, they'd won.
"We sure did," Astoria said, squeezing her hand. Ginny hadn't even realised she'd spoken out loud. It had to be the exhaustion overwhelming her.
"One more Horcrux down," she said.
"Cup, locket and snake still to go. We're halfway," Astoria said.
When put like that, it sounded almost feasible. Enormous still, of course, but possible. The stone beneath their feet shifted to smooth earth as they continued, the snaking tunnel leading them beyond Hogwarts.
If only she'd had the time to collect all her belongings. Several of Dumbledore's memories still resided within the castle, albeit sealed with a spell for which she lacked the counterspell. Then again, it wasn't as if the other memories had been helpful. Quaint, yes. Interesting, always. Lovely even sometimes, particularly those that had given her glimpses of Harry. But none of them had actually been helpful. Regardless, there was little to be done about it now. She would just have to march on.
"So, you and Malfoy," Ginny asked eventually, latching onto something they had lacked the time for before.
Astoria blushed as she shook her head in denial. "No. There's nothing there."
"You did look mighty happy. So did he," Ginny said, thinking of all the hateful bigotry he'd spewed each year, all the campaigns he'd set up against Harry and any Muggleborn unlucky enough to earn his ire. This new side of his, she wasn't quite sure she believed in it.
"I mean, he's good looking," Astoria admitted. Ginny supposed so. He'd never been quite her type though. Too neatly coiffed, too well put together. Malfoy was like a gentle Spring day. Harry had been a thunderstorm.
Astoria shook her head. "But no. I dreamt of him once, you know. I had the whole wedding planned out too. Cut out my wedding dress and his suit from Witch Weekly. Drew hearts around whatever picture of his made it into the Prophet, even if he always looked so awfully smug in them. Planned my wedding speech, wrote down guest lists and made seating arrangements. There's this wonderful castle in Switzerland, you know," she said, voice wistful as she imagined herself there. "High spires, snow-covered mountains and birds singing. Edelweiss all around us." Ginny could picture it herself too.
"It sounds great," Ginny admitted.
"Yeah, I suppose. Merlin, I was still a silly teenager. And I guess I still am, for fighting against these impossible odds… But Ilike to think I'm silly in a different way nowadays," Astoria said sadly. "I don't want to marry Malfoy anymore, don't worry. I'm glad I could help him find a better path and if he stays on it, I'll forgive him. But I can't forget what his father did. What his beliefs enabled," she said, her tone becoming harsher. "So no, don't worry, you won't have to come to our wedding. But you will come to my wedding, Ginny," Astoria concluded with firm conviction.
"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," Ginny said.
"I'll make you my maid of honour. And you'll wear a Butterbeer bottlecap necklace," Astoria proclaimed. Ginny could almost hear them jingling already, amidst the alpine birdsong
"And who will be the groom?"
"I'm still taking applications. I was hoping to land one at the DA, but by the end of it, it had become an all-girls club. What happened to the courageous boys? Even Seamus left."
"Tori, don't tell me you liked Seamus?" Ginny teased.
"Of course not. But it's the principle. Are girls braver than guys?" she suggested.
Ginny shrugged, there hadn't been much of a difference back in the Department of Mysteries. They had all died bravely.
#
They ended up gossiping, squabbling and theorising all the way. Of Rookwood and the Horcrux, they hardly spoke. Instead they focused on the mundane and Hogwarts, as if by talking about it they could hold onto it just a little while longer, even as step by step that chapter was closed more and more definitively. Of course, this year had been a far cry from what had once been promised when they stepped on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. They had gotten something dangerous and corrupted. But it wasn't like Hogwarts had ever been just happy Hoggy Hogwarts, a place of learning and laughter. There had been that, but there had always been shadows cast by basilisks, dementors, mazes with cups at the end and of course the Ministry itself. Rookwood might have been the worst, but hardly the first.
And yet, they already missed it. They might not have said it, but it was the silent melody underpinning their tales throughout. Slughorn who had finally brought joy to Potions. Flitwick who had brought joy to anything. And of course the DA, no matter how much their numbers had been reduced in the end. Perhaps Rookwood's fall would finally bring some of the lost members back into the fold.
Eventually, they came across another another door. They exchanged a look and then both drew their wands before they pushed it open. Beyond it lay an immense feeling of vertigo, then nausea. The door opened into a room that looked a suspicious lot like the Hog's Head, only from a worm's eye view. Then slowly it began to shift and spin until it got larger and larger, but whether it was the door, the tavern or even themselves who grew or shrunk, she couldn't say.
"Luna would have loved it," Astoria mumbled as she eyed the door suspiciously, swaying on her feet.
"Let's go," Ginny said.
"Do you think it's safe?"
"Maybe? I mean, Snape sent us here, but if he'd wanted to hurt us, he'd have had easier options," Ginny said, stepping through the door.
"It'd be just like Snape though, to play with us," Astoria said as she followed Ginny into the taproom.
"Perhaps," Ginny said as she inspected the dusty bar with equally dusty bottles and even dustier glasses. It was definitely the Hog's Head. While it had never been a busy bar, to see it completely deserted was an odd sight, the only proof of past occupation the drinks that had been spilled on the tables.
As she moved through the room, her feet led her to the corner where Harry had once awkwardly held court. The day the DA had first seen the light, even if it hadn't had a name back then—let alone a clear mission. Just a rallying cry for those who hated Umbridge or mistrusted the Ministry. She closed her eyes and could hear Hermione's call to arms, filled with righteous conviction and indignation that a war was there and they were not being properly taught. She rested her hand on the chair where Harry had once sat, before he gave what was no doubt the most sincere and clumsy speech many of these kids would ever hear. And it had only bought him oblivion in the end, even if the rest had left with hope.
"You alright, Ginny?" Astoria asked, shaking her out of her reverie.
"Yeah… Just remembering," she said as she let go of the chair.
"Good. Want a drink?" Astoria asked as she dived behind the bar and began struggling with a bottle. "I think we deserve it." With a 'plop' the cork went flying through the room.
"What even is that?" Ginny asked, squinting at the bottle.
Astoria blew on it, sending dust flying. She sneezed three times, spilling some of the amber-coloured liquid inside. "Some kind of Muggle whisky I think," she said, even as she poured herself a glass. "Want some?"
"I'm not sure we should be drinking right now," Ginny said as she walked up to the bar.
"We got rid of Rookwood and a Horcrux, this is worthy of celebration! But suit yourself," Astoria said as she downed a glass in one gulp. She began coughing as Ginny slapped her on the back.
Astoria put the glass down, tears streaming down her face. "Delicious," she wheezed.
"Yeah, you really sell it," Ginny said as she pushed the bottle aside.
"That's two sickles you owe me," a voice murmured behind them.
Ginny and Astoria both jumped, then turned around in a flash, wands drawn at the barman of the Hog's Head.
"Jumpy are you?" he asked, looking amused. "You'd almost think I was the intruder, not you." He walked up to them and pulled the glass from Astoria's hands. "You're far too young for that." He poured himself a glass and leaned against the bar. "So, tell me, what are you two doing here? Ran away from the madhouse that is Hogwarts?"
"Sort of," Ginny hedged, then remembering Snape's earlier commands to spread the tale and take responsibility. "We killed Rookwood."
The barman spat out the whisky, doubling over as he tried to wipe the drink from his beard. Ginny wondered if she should pat him on the back.
"See, he does it too. That's just the way you need to drink it," Astoria said, looking smug as she reached for the bottle again. Even while coughing, the barman still managed to slide it away from Astoria's grasping hands.
After another cough, he straightened and fixed them with a disbelieving look. "You're actually for real, aren't you? You're even crazier than your twin brothers. And I've seen the nonsense they've pulled around here at Hogsmeade."
"Really?" Ginny asked, eyes shining. The twins never spoke of their exploits, preferring to let the rest of the world carry their tale. But she'd never heard of any Hog's Head adventures.
"None of that," he bristled. "I don't want you getting even more ideas." He fished out two butterbeers from behind the bar, as well as two glasses, and handed them to them. "Cheers though, I hated the deranged bastard. Came in here for a drink once and scared all my clientele away. And trust me, they don't scare easily."
Ginny studied the dusty glass and decided to drink from the bottle. The man in front of them looked incredibly familiar. His piercing blue eyes, the thick beard. She narrowed her eyes at him. "And what's your name, Sir?"
The man smiled at her behind his beard. "Aberforth. I don't need to ask who you are though, Moody's been grumbling about you. Found that Elf yet?"
He could only be speaking of Kreacher. It did make sense, she supposed, that the secret exit led to the bar of a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Still, she wondered why she hadn't seen him at any of their meetings in that case.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, even as she felt she wanted to trust him. Had to be the eyes, even if she remembered a kinder version of them.
"Cautious, aren't you? Moody would be happy," Aberforth said. "I suppose this is what you get with 'compartmentalisation'," he said, struggling with the word. "But trust me, I'm good for it."
"He hasn't summoned any Death Eaters yet, despite our admitted homicide," Astoria chipped in, nursing her butterbeer with a content smile on her face. "Also, he's a Dumbledore."
"Grew up on genealogy books, did you?" Aberforth asked as he studied her with annoyance in tone and eye in equal measure. Ginny blinked as the knowledge settled inside her mind and then nodded to herself, wondering why she hadn't seen it before. The similarities were everywhere. Perhaps because Aberforth carried himself so differently from their old headmaster. Professor Dumbledore always had an aura of kind gravitas and wisdom around her. Aberforth… Aberforth was a curmudgeonly barman.
"Well, that and Rita Skeeter's columns. Something about goats?" Astoria mused, then blushed as she realised something. "Forget I said that, please. Normally I'm a much better socialite."
Aberforth just harrumphed, looking much more displeased than before. Ginny resisted the urge to giggle. She'd read the same columns. Instantly, a hundred questions sprang to her mind—most not even about goats. Surely Aberforth would have at least some of the same perspicacity and wisdom as his brother? And then she remembered how different she and all her siblings were. That didn't reduce the number of questions she had though, it doubled them rather.
"So you're Professor Dumbledore's brother?"
"Yeah, and not proud of it, now that he's sending children to fight his war," Aberforth spat out coldly.
"It's not your brother's war," she replied instinctively.
"Not anymore at least," he corrected darkly. "Whose do you think it is then?"
"Harry's. And mine."
Aberforth smiled, and just like that, he looked a lot like Professor Dumbledore. Pleased and proud. "Well, then I'll see you on the battlefield I suppose." He slid the bottle back to her and Astoria. "Old enough to fight, old enough to drink I suppose."
Before she could reconsider her decision not to drink, a flash of white light burst into Aberforth's taproom. It slowly took the shape of a squirrel patronus, which hurried across the room, skirting tables and chairs before it ran up Aberforth's shoulder. It whispered something in his ear and Aberforth's expression went grim. Without another word, he grabbed the bottle and drank straight from it, even as the squirrel darted away.
One swig later, his eyes swirled back to Ginny. "I don't know what your plans are, but you should go home first. Your family should be together now."