Aberforth Dumbledore

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Dyroth almost couldn't hold back his frustration.

"Damn it! Why did I end up in this haunted place?"

Blame it on the crazy British weather! It's barely past four o'clock, yet it's already dark as night! He could hardly see the shop signs anymore.

The moment he stepped into the bar, he felt countless eyes on him—wizards from all walks of life sizing him up like prey. 

A hint of threat gleamed in some of their gazes, as if they were sizing a helpless piece of meat.

"Look at his shirt under that fancy wizard's robe. That's high-end! Costs at least dozens of Galleons!"

"Must be some pure-blood brat, out here for thrills! Haha!"

"Just look at him! Sell him to as a slave, and we would make a fortune!"

The room was filled with cutthroats—desperadoes who lived by dangerous trades, licking blood off their blades for a living. At the sight of someone like Dyroth, they couldn't help but salivate at the thought of an easy mark.

Dyroth secretly gripped his wand, hidden up his sleeve, ready to defend himself from any surprise attacks.

At that moment, the grizzled old man behind the bar, busy wiping glasses, suddenly slammed the table hard.

"Everyone, shut it! Don't forget my rules here!" 

With just a few words, the entire bar fell silent. Even the loudest troublemakers from a moment ago now had fear in their eyes.

"Oh right! The owner of the Hog's Head is Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother!" Dyroth thought, realizing who the old man was. "A hidden powerhouse."

No wonder everyone here was scared of him. Dyroth breathed a sigh of relief, assuming that the looming threat had passed. But then, the old man's next words left him stunned.

"Feel free to fight, but break anything, and you'll pay ten times the cost in damages!"

"What the hell?!"

Dyroth immediately pulled out his wand while cursing this damn old man.

Suddenly, a spell came flying toward him! It was followed by a barrage of more spells:

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

They weren't using Dark Magic, just a series of incapacitating spells. After all, they didn't want to hurt their prize—they wanted to sell Dyroth for a hefty sum!

"Protego!"

While dodging, Dyroth cast a shield charm around himself, deflecting several spells in quick succession.

"Incendio"

A wave of fire shot from Dyroth's wand, igniting the nearby wooden tables and chairs. The wizards, who had been so arrogant moments before, were now completely shocked.

"He's definitely from a wealthy family!" they thought. "We've been careful not to break anything, and he just set the whole place ablaze in one go!"

Dyrth , sensing their hesitation, smirked. "In a fight for your life, who cares about being careful?"

As the wizards hesitated, Dyroth took the chance to strike back with a wave of spells.

"Reducto"

"Expelliarmus"

"Diffindo"

Several wizards dropped to the ground, groaning in pain. The others could only stare in disbelief.

"How is a mere Hogwarts student this powerful?!"

They had assumed their greatest threats were their peers, but Dyroth's strength made them doubt if they could even defeat him.

"Wait… are you telling me this is a Hogwarts first-year student?!" one of them blurted.

"Don't ask me! I'm just as shocked as you are!"

"We need to work together. If this drags on and a Hogwarts professor shows up, we'll be in deep trouble!"

The remaining three exchanged glances and cast spells aimed at different parts of Dyroth's body.

Streams of colored light surged toward him, but Dyroth raised his wand, causing the debris of tables and chairs to fly up and block the incoming spells.

"Avis"

"Oppugno"

He quickly summoned a flock of birds then directing them toward his attackers. In the confusion, he took down two more of them.

The last remaining wizard, now desperate, aimed his wand and fired a jet of green light—*the Killing Curse*.

Before it could hit, the old man with the gray beard finally intervened. A thick red beam shot from his wand, slamming the would-be killer into the ground.

"Old goat, stay out of this!" the man shouted.

The old man barely glanced at him. "If you can afford to pay for my bar, be my guest. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut."

With those words, the fight was over. Dyroth seized the opportunity and knocked out the final attacker.

Aberforth looked calm on the surface, but inside, his thoughts were churning. As Albus Dumbledore's brother, he had watched his brother's growth closely. Even at Dumbledore's age, he hadn't been capable of taking down several adult wizards at once like this!

In terms of magical prowess and combat ability, the boy in front of him was extraordinary.

Dyroth, having handled his opponents, calmly sat at the bar.

"Give me a Butterbeer," he ordered.

Aberforth eyed him for a moment before grabbing a mug of the warm, golden drink. "Two Silver Sickles," he said.

Dyroth tossed the coins onto the counter and sipped the drink. Despite its name, Butterbeer was more like a spiced ginger ale, perfect for the chilly British weather.

"New student at Hogwarts?" Aberforth asked casually.

Dyroth barely nodded in response.

"Newborn calf, not afraid of tigers," Aberforth muttered. "I'll give you some advice: those people called for backup. They'll be here soon. Best call your family or a professor to pick you up and to pay the damage you caused."

"Or else…"

A cold, commanding voice cut through the air.

"What if I don't feel like paying?"

The doors to the bar swung open, revealing none other than Vinda Rosier walking in with her usual elegance. Her wand was ready, her expression was icy.

Aberforth's eyes narrowed the moment he saw her.

Dyroth suddenly remembered—Aberforth's sister had died in a duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

Was he about to unleash his grudge against all of Grindelwald's followers?

Before Dyroth could think further, the tension in the room rose to a dangerous level. It was clear from the murderous glint in their eyes—this wasn't easy.

Vinda Rosier, Grindelwald's most loyal follower, had decades of magical knowledge and experience. Aberforth, Dumbledore's brother, was a man who had once stood up to Voldemort himself.

If these two fought, they could destroy the entire village of Hogsmeade.

Aberforth stepped out from behind the bar, his wrinkled hand tightening around his wand.

"Vinda Rosier," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I was wondering who could raise such a talented young wizard. And now I see…"

"There's a lot you don't know," Vinda replied, her green eyes cold and unflinching.

"Aunt Vinda, calm down! Please, All of you calm down!" Dyroth called out, hoping to defuse the situation.

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