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A Bend in Time

Before there ever was a boy that ever lived in a cupboard on Four Privet Drive, there was a similar boy in a far worse home that lived on Spinner’s End. We all know the tale of that abused boy who grew up to become a bitter spy. But not all tales end the same for in the many parallel worlds that exist in the universe there are far better endings, and equally as many worse ones. This is a tale of one such condemned universe that for better or for worse chooses to change its own fate at through the sacrifice of the bitter spy. (All rights to the Harry Potter world and characters belong solely to J. K. Rowling. However, I do claim creative fanfiction rights. Please do not post my fanfiction elsewhere without my express permission. This work will also be partially hosted at RoyalRoad, Wattpadd, and Archive.)

EsliEsma · Book&Literature
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1225 Chs

Prickle Ⅲ

The village of Mould-on-the-Would was a popular winter destination during the holiday festivities with an ice-skating ring, vendors, and magical sights, and even more so with Yule upon them. "Notice-me-not" charms had been placed all around the village to confuddle and keep the local muggle populace from noticing anything that was magical.

A faint popping sound is heard within the village's vicinity largely drowned out by the celebratory atmosphere. A couple appears just the outskirts carrying their carefully bundled up son, Rodney. The sleepy toddler carried in his father's arms instantly perked up and gazed with awe at the village. There were glittering real-life fairy lights, dozens of enormous Christmas trees decorated with never-melting candles, and countless Wreaths. The scents of pine and spices fill the air along with the scent of roasting chestnuts, and countless wonderous sights and sounds.

Normally. Rodney would have been left behind in the care of this uncle in order for them to get their shopping done that much faster; but Argus Filch, her husband's brother was on his honeymoon with his newly wedded wife, Irma Pince, the Hogwarts librarian. The couple had decided to at long last marry on the first day of the winter holiday's as they wanted to have a romantic Christmas getaway together. They were currently in the Scottish Highlands spending a solitary, but romantic honeymoon.

The dark-haired, slender figure of Eileen has a touch of pink to her normally pale, sharp face. She happily tucked her hand into the crook of her husband's arm. Roderic, a slender man with broad shoulders and a slightly crooked nose turns his salt-peppered head towards his wife. The two of them share a warm smile of excitement and love. The two of them had been permitted to attend the godparent ceremony of his wife's eldest children. Despite reservations and disgruntlement from the twins, the children had agreed to a family dinner at the Filch cottage.

Roderic held some reservations, but he knew that his wife, Eileen was simply over the moon. And he simply did not have the heart to burst his wife's bubble of joy knowing full well that reconciliation with her firstborn children may not even be a possibility. Even now, the betrayal of Eileen still stung his pride and soul, but he could not even begin to imagine the pain and hurt experienced by his wife's firstborn children.

Roderic is pulled out of his inner musings by his wife tugging on his arm in a child-like manner. "Let us first check the roasted chestnuts, Roderic," Eileen excitedly said imaging the feast that she would conjure up for her twins. When they were younger, she would sneak them the occasional treat, Severus had always liked pecans the best, while Rowan preferred cashews. It was simply wonderous to imagine their delight at seeing them eat their favorite winter snacks. And maybe, she was delusional, but she had to continue to hope that some manner of reconciliation was still possible for her and her children.

With great determination, Eileen pulls Roderic after her. Eileen and her small family eagerly dove into the crowd enjoying the night's festivities. It would simply be a wonderful Yule night. And though, she had not yet burnt a yule log for the evening, she would do so later with her family.

The winter festival at 'Mould-on-the-Would' was not the only location that was filled with unprecedented warmth but as was the Hogs Head Inn. The Hogs Head Inn was closed despite it being Yule's for personal reasons. Those seeking drinks on that cold night headed to the Three Broomsticks or elsewhere for a pint.

Upstairs in the loft above the Hogs Head Inn is a quiet parlor room that has been recently cleaned. Sitting in two patched-up armchairs are two brothers that look remarkably alike, but who would loudly and very verbally protest if the suggestion was made to either of them. In the first chair, the long, silver hair and beard of Albus Dumbledore can be seen tucked into his belt. His robes are a rather festive green with gold trimming that barely cover the tip of his high-heeled buckled boots. Holding a mug of spiked eggnog, Albus's child-like blue eyes spark with warmth from behind half-moon spectacles that hang on a long, crooked nose.

Sensing his brother's gaze on him, Aberforth firmly refuses to meet the gaze of Albus keeping his similar colored blue eyes firmly on his mug. Yet despite Aberforth's efforts, there was a pleased expression on his face. His wiry grey hair and beard were neatly trimmed making him look rather handsome. His spectacles did nothing to hide his piercing, brilliant blue eyes.

Vexed by his older brother's actions, Aberforth finally snaps. "What?! Do I have something on my face?!" Aberforth growled.

"Ah, well, I must say that you look rather dashing with that haircut, Aberforth," Albus innocently remarked. "And who does your hair? Is it Mr. Wheezy down at the barbers?"

Aberforth blinks rather dumbfounded as if uncertain what to make of the positive comment. Feeling his cheeks flush with a touch of embarrassment, he loudly coughs and sets down his mug. "Something went down the wrong pipe," he gruffly lied.

Sending an evil eye towards Albus, Aberforth snorts and pointedly asks, "Aren't you supposed to be with your apprentices at their big hoo-ha?"

"I apologized in advance and Rowan nor Severus, they did not seem offput by it," Albus confessed before taking a sip of his eggnog. "That and I am certain that Professor Prince was rather relived at my lack of presence if her expression was anything to go by."

"It's not that them I am worried about," Aberforth drily commented. "It's the old Prince that concerns me."

Albus absolutely beams at Aberforth causing him to balance. "Are you concerned about my wellbeing, Aberforth?!" Albus eagerly asked causing Aberforth to want to keel over in despair.

"No," Aberforth hastily retorted, before turning a pleading gaze at the portrait of Ariana. The fair, golden-haired figure of Ariana clutches her book with her blue eyes fixed into the distance. She remains still and far away with no sign of appearing soon.

Uncertain of what to do, Aberforth finally says, "We best start the burning of the Yule log now."

"Certainly, Aberforth," Albus beamed causing a scowl to appear on Aberforth's face. Aberforth's face only darkened as the phoenix perched on top of Albus's chair, Fawkes pointedly coos at Aberforth.

The handsome bird with gorgeous red and gold plumage let out a trilling sound in pleasure and flaps his wings in further emphasis in agreement. The stupid bird had naturally accompanied Albus rather than staying back at Hogwarts. But worst of all, the foolish phoenix had taken to visiting Aberforth all on its own as of late trying to earn his friendship. The blasted bird instead is painting a very large target on his back!

"The sooner this is done, the sooner this is over," Aberforth gruffly grumbled under his breath, but it was mostly nonsense. He couldn't very well say that he had been expecting the day all week now could he? He had his pride to consider and well, being civil to Albus was strange. And if he was honest, he might miss their previously antagonistic relationship. Everything still felt so new, odd, and off-balance, but he had to try for Ari's sake. He had promised and Aberforth took his vows very seriously.

Aw!

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