The Ultimatum

After a brief bout of sensory overload, George and Dumbledore reappeared in a new location. They were standing on a narrow cobbled path in the middle of a snow-covered field. There was an old thatched building a few dozen yards ahead. A sign hanging askew by a single chain displayed a painting of a hog's head. After realising what that meant, George turned around and saw Hogsmeade village just over a hundred yards away.

"Come along, George. We have much to discuss."

Dumbledore immediately started walking towards the Hog's head Inn. He reached the front door and went inside, leaving George all alone. An opportunity to escape had conveniently presented itself, but George wasn't going to fall for it. He took one last long look at the village before following in Dumbledore's footsteps. He entered the pub and was greeted with utter silence. It was dark, dingy, and no one besides Dumbledore was present. The only thing of note was the inn's namesake hanging on the wall.

Seated at one of only two stools by the bar counter was Dumbledore. He glanced over his shoulder after hearing George enter and beckoned him over. George leisurely complied and sat beside Dumbledore. Although George was just a child, the 'well-loved' stool creaked under his weight. The bar table was barren beside an oil lamp covered in ash, a filthy rag, and a half dozen dusty pint glasses.

"I'll order us some drinks before we start."

Dumbledore took off his gloves and tossed them onto the bar. Then he leaned forward and bang the counter three times. After a few seconds, an old grumpy man in a kilt came stumbling out of the back room. He could barely walk in a straight line and was clutching a half-empty bottle of whisky. The man looked oddly similar to Dumbledore, with a matching long beard and hair. He squinted his eye suspiciously while he leaned against the door frame for support.

"Have I seen you before? You look familiar."

"Perhaps...", Dumbledore looked down at the whisky bottle, "isn't it a little early to be drinking?"

The barkeeper chuckled, "little rich, don't you think? Is this coming from a man who expects to be served at ten in the bloody morning?"

"Touche", Dumbledore smiled and held up two fingers, "two Butterbeers, if you could."

The barkeeper looked at George, "isn't he a little young."

"Just a small glass for him", responded Dumbledore.

The barkeeper shrugged, put down his whisky, and picked up two glasses off the bar. Then he walked to the back of the room where there were two massive wooden barrels. A few moments later, the barkeeper came back with one full glass of butterbeer and one half. He slammed them down on the counter, causing foam to spill over the rim.

"Three sickles."

Dumbledore slid a galleon across the table, "that will be all."

The barkeeper picked up the gold coin and held it in the glow of the lamp. After checking the galleon's legitimacy, he pocketed it and grabbed his bottle of whisky. He gave Dumbledore one last distrustful glare before turning around.

"Don't forget to close the door on your way out", were his last words before leaving the way he'd entered.

Once the barkeeper left, Dumbledore picked up his glass and had a swig. He drank a good third of the pint before putting the glass back down. A thick white foam covered his beard. George outdid Dumbledore by downing the entirety of his glass in one go. The flavour was disappointingly sweet, but the dry aftertaste was quite pleasant. He could have happily drank a whole pint if one had been offered.

Dumbledore wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and asked, "did you recognise the barkeep, George?"

George nodded and stared into his empty glass, "Aberforth Dumbledore. Your younger brother."

"So you do know him", Dumbledore seemed surprised.

"I know many things. Your family, or lack thereof, is one of them", George responded.

Dumbledore took another swig before saying, "I see. Aberforth and I have known each other for over a century. For better or for worse, no one knows me better than my brother. Or at least... that was the case until very recently."

"Late last night, I received a letter", Dumbledore glanced at George. "Do you know about that?"

George nodded again.

"Good. Then you will already know the letter's content. Two words written in blood, 'Lex Talionis'."

George did not respond. Instead, he merely stared at the foam dripping down his glass.

After a brief pause, Dumbledore continued, "the law of retaliation, or 'eye-for-an-eye'. It had me wondering for quite a while what it meant. A threat perhaps? Or a warning."

"But you worked it out in the end, didn't you?", George interrupted.

Dumbledore took off his reading glasses and rubbed his eyes, "yes, that I did. My brother doesn't seem to remember me. Neither does he recall my visit last night. It's quite troubling."

"I know the feeling", George whispered.

Dumbledore shook his head weakly, "does nothing I've said surprise you, George?"

"Why would it, headmaster?", George asked back. "You have already deduced my involvement. Otherwise, why would you have taken me here?"

Dumbledore stroked his beard, "you don't seem as nervous as you once were. Would this be the real George Linwood?"

"My anxiety in your esteemed company was never false or exaggerated. Keeping my true identity a secret was my top priority and you were my greatest obstacle. But now... things are much simpler", corrected George.

"Simpler, you say. How is depriving an innocent man of his memories a simple matter?"

George ignored the rhetorical question and turned to face Dumbledore, "in the event you approached me regarding your brother, my patron wanted me to relay a message."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "does your patron have a name?"

"Yes, he or she does", George responded.

George and Dumbledore stared at each other for a while. George could see that sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes again, but he didn't fear it anymore. He only felt one emotion for this old man now.

George smiled, "aren't you going to have a look? My mind is completely defenceless. Who knows, maybe the second time is the charm."

Dumbledore shook his head, "I wouldn't… Not now."

"Funny", George sniggered. "You had a different attitude a few months ago, headmaster."

"You know about that as well", Dumbledore sighed, "there is an unfathomable amount of dark magic inside you, George. I had to know who had done this to a child. Even if it meant violating your privacy."

George's grip on his pint glass tightened, "you were quite extensive with your hunt through my memories. I lost… so much."

Dumbledore put a hand on George's shoulder, "there is much you do not understand. I only acted with your well-being as my top priority."

The glass in George's hand smashed under the pressure, "please… don't… touch… me."

George understood perfectly well why Dumbledore did what he did. George's life was given meaning and purpose by his patron. Dumbledore tried to take that from him. Even with his patron's recent emotional dampening, George struggled to contain his fury. Knowing why he was here was the only thing preventing him from lashing out.

George shrugged off Dumbledore's hand and stood up, "you were right about one thing. Your brother was a warning."

Then he declared, "stay out of my way, and information regarding the Dark Lord will be provided at the end of the school year. However, if you interfere with my patron's plans again, the rest of the Order will be forfeit."

Dumbledore's face turned grave, "George. Do you know what you're saying? Think about your family, your friends. If you stay on this path, you'll lose them all. I implore you, stop this nonsense."

"Do not lecture me!", George spat out. "What of your family, your friends? Did your path keep them close, or even alive? Unlike you, I will not squander the gift I've been granted."

George was getting too emotional again, he couldn't stay any longer. He'd done what his patron wanted, any more time here would only hamper the mission. George walked to the Inn's door and yanked it open. Just before he walked into the blustering wind and snow, he stopped.

Then he turned back to Dumbledore, "frankly, I think it was mercy taking Aberforth's memories of you. At least this way, he doesn't know his brother is responsible for his sister's death."

And on that note, George left the Hog's Head Inn and slammed the door behind him. He didn't need Dumbledore to return to the castle, he could just walk. The conditions were pretty bad and the fog was rolling in, but George was able to push through. He had just enough enlarged rations to nibble on while he walked to keep his energy levels up. He would have to remember to fully replenish his stash back at the Linwoods.

By the time he got back to the Black Lake, the snow had stopped falling and George could see more clearly. There was a huge convoy of white horses pulling sledges across the ice. In those sledges were dozens of first years with mounds of luggage and cages at their feet. This must have been the alternative to the boats until the lake had thawed.

All the horses were heading in the same direction. At Hogsmeade Station, Hagrid was waving his lantern. The half-giant was standing on the edge of the old pier where the boats were docked. George assumed that's where the students would be dismounting. To save himself some time and effort, George had an idea. Using the cover of the Forbidden Forest, he made his way around the lake and waited underneath the pier.

A few minutes later, the carriages arrived at the pier. The horses seemed highly organised as they neatly formed into a line. The first years dismounted the carriages one by one, Hagrid assisted them in moving their luggage and pets. George took this opportunity to sneakily climb up when no one was looking and blend into the crowd. Luckily, the group of students were far too concerned with their trip back home to notice one extra member.

George shimmied past the predominantly Gryffindor students and gave Hagrid a poke. The half-giant turned around and noticed George awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry for bothering you, but is it possible I could go back to Hogwarts", George asked nervously.

Hagrid ruffled George's hair, "what's the matter? You forget somethin'."

George lowered his head and averted his eyes, "yes, sir. I left my owl behind."

"There's always one", Hagrid said while pointing at a nearby carriage. "Jump back in this here carriage, and I'll send you back."

George smiled in return and happily lept into the carriage. The seats were warm, padded, and had plenty of legroom. This first-class transport was far better than just walking across the lake like a peasant. Just as George was about to recline back into his seat and close his eyes, he heard a voice call out to him.

"George? Is that you?"

After a little pushing and shoving, Hermione appeared out of the crowd of kids. She walked up to George's carriage and climbed inside. Then she sat down in the seat opposite and avoided locking eyes with him.

"Keep quiet and act like we don't know each other", said Hermione under her breath.

George glanced over the edge of the carriage and couldn't see a single student paying him any attention.

"Are we hiding from someone?"

Hermione didn't immediately respond. Instead, she leaned forwards and gestured for George to do the same. George complied and perked his ears.

She whispered, "I didn't tell anyone about what happened at the Quidditch pitch. Not even Harry and Ron. No one knows that you were the purple-haired boy."

"Really", George smiled, "and why would I believe that?"

A little anger flared in Hermione's eyes, "I didn't tell anyone, okay? I told Harry and Ron that I set Professor Snape's robe on fire."

"So… Are you expecting me to say thanks", questioned George.

"No. If that's all I had to say, then I wouldn't be here. There's something way more important we need to discuss", responded Hermione while checking over her shoulder.

George suddenly acted enlightened, "oh, now all the cloak-and-dagger antics make sense. So you've talked to the big man over there."

He gestured with his eyes to Hagrid, who was still helping students dismount the carriages.

Hermione nodded, "I don't know how you knew, but you were right. Hagrid knew about the dog on the third floor and someone called…"

"Nicholas Flamel", George interrupted. "I already know all about it."

Hermione's jaw fell open, "you knew, and you didn't tell me? Why did you…"

George butted in, "I'd already told you, this isn't my story. It's up to you, Ron and Harry, not me."

"If you're so convinced this doesn't involve you, then why tell me anything at all? I didn't ask for your help at the Quidditch match, you just randomly turned up", Hermione argued.

George leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, "I have my reasons."

Hermione pouted, "you can be really annoying sometimes."

George smiled, "and yet here you are, talking to irritating old me. I mean, look at you. You're practically begging me to explain who Nicholas Flamel is."

"I knew it. You do know who he is", Hermione said excitedly.

She looked around once again before whispering, "so… Aren't you going to tell me who he is?"

"Nope", George answered flatly.

"Come on. Can't you at least give me a clue like you did with Hagrid?", Hermione pleaded.

George acted indecisive for a while before relenting, "well… okay. Since it's Christmas, you can treat this hint as a present from your secret best friend."

Hermione sat upright and eagerly awaited his next words. Now that he'd got her attention, George closed his eyes and pressed his fingers against his temple. After some extremely silly eye rolling and jaw tensing, he opened his eyes wide and exclaimed.

"The answers you seek have already been found. You just need to look through your checkout collection from the Hogwarts Library."

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment, "are you being serious?"

"Deadly serious", George answered confidently.

"But those books are back at Hogwarts. How will I..."

"Hermione. What are you still doing in there? The carriages will be leaving any second now?"

Hermione and George turned around to find Hagrid looming over them. He didn't appear to have been eavesdropping. Hermione looked back and forth between George and Hagrid, clearly unsure of what to say.

George spoke on her behalf, "please forgive Hermione, Mr Hagrid. We've grown awfully close over the past few months, you see. She was just worried on my behalf that I might miss the train."

Hagrid chuckled, "oh, Hermione. Yer worrying over nothin'. All the older students still need to leave the castle. Yer friend here will have plenty of time to fetch his owl."

Hermione gritted her teeth and barely hid her disapproval of George's lie. She was probably gagging to tell Hagrid the truth, but that would only get her in trouble. So George took this time to revel in her desperate attempt to play along.

She slowly looked up at Hagrid and said through a blatantly fake smile, "okay. I guess I was worrying over nothing."

Hagrid opened the carriage door and guided Hermione out, "you better come along now. Let's get you comfortable on the train."

All Hermione could do was stare back at George as the carriages began returning to the castle. Happy to be rid of her, George waved goodbye as she faded from view. It was a happy accident running into Hermione. Now he didn't need to waste any time in January with the trio. Soon enough, they'll know about the Philosopher's Stone just like fate foretold, but this time, he was responsible. He could rest easy knowing that one more requirement had been ticked off his modified mission.