77. Albus And Aberforth

Aurelius secluded himself in France, but in England, two strangers were brought together because of him.

Aberforth, who resembled Albus, opened a bar called Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, the only wizarding village in Britain.

The bar had a grim appearance, with a pig's head dripping with blood serving as its logo. The sign hanging on a tattered bracket was stained with rust. Despite its small size, the bar had advantages. The well-crafted wine tables, though rough, were shiny and reflective, illuminating the otherwise dark interior.

Surprisingly, the bar had a thriving business and became a suitable place for less serious matters. Most people were unaware that Aberforth shared the same surname as Albus Dumbledore and his talents as an archmage-level figure were often overlooked.

Aberforth, standing behind the bar cleaning his wine glasses, gazed coldly at Albus, his brother whom he despised.

"You have a child, don't you?" Dumbledore asked, standing in front of the empty bar.

Aberforth, puzzled, raised his head and asked, "What are you talking about?" Dumbledore noticed the flicker of emotion in Aberforth's eyes and decided against using Legilimency, knowing it would further strain their fragile bond.

"A few days ago, an old friend visited me and shocked me with some news - a man claiming to be Dumbledore had visited the Minister of Magic in Portugal over two months ago. This man was very young, around eighteen or nineteen years old."

"This is impossible!" Aberforth exclaimed firmly.

Dumbledore stared at him, and Aberforth furrowed his brow and said, "But they are already dead——"

"He lived and was adopted and raised by a Muggle," Dumbledore explained.

"What?" Aberforth dropped the rag he was holding.

"This is my confirmed news. I have met him. His name is Aurelius Dumbledore, and it is on the family tree." Dumbledore looked at him.

"Tell me what happened, alright? Then I will tell you what I know. I promise."

Aberforth shook his head and walked towards a private room in the bar, followed by Dumbledore.

The brothers faced each other, a conversation they hadn't had in a long time.

"Over twenty years ago, in the Godric Valley, I met his mother. I was in a very bad place emotionally - you know why," Aberforth said.

Dumbledore nodded, acknowledging that it was due to the events of that summer in 1899.

"She was incredibly kind and stayed with me during the most painful years of my life. Then... one day, eighteen, no, nineteen years ago, I went to find her, but... I couldn't find her. She had been expelled because she became pregnant out of wedlock." Aberforth's face, appearing as old as ice that had not melted for thousands of years, showed a hint of regret and pain.

"Nineteen years ago?" Dumbledore suddenly recalled something. "Was it you who returned from Germany?"

"Yes..." Aberforth nodded, and he continued, "I wanted to find her. I Apparated frantically, searching every inch of Britain. But by the time I found any information about her, more than a month had passed since the shipwreck."

"I don't understand why she boarded a ship to New York. She had no relatives or friends in the United States." Aberforth still couldn't comprehend it, even after all these years.

"Is that all?"

"Yes, that's all."

"What about Aurelius? The name," Dumbledore asked.

Aberforth pondered for a moment. If there was anything he took pride in, it was his memory.

He remembered every guest he had ever had. He could even recall events from decades ago.

"She talked to me, and she said she liked the name Aurelius very much."

"Alright, I'm sorry for prying into your sorrow, but it's important." Dumbledore apologized softly, and then continued, "I'll tell you the rest of the story."

"Your child is still alive. He fortunately survived the shipwreck and was taken in by a Muggle family."

"That's good. Seems like he's doing well," Aberforth mumbled absentmindedly. A son he had never met? Far less significant than the girl who had slowly entered his heart.

"No, my friend from MACUSA informed me that he was abused while growing up. His adoptive mother was a Muggle who harbored an extreme hatred for wizards." At this point, Dumbledore paused. He didn't know what else to tell his brother."What?" Aberforth suddenly raised his head, a feeling of unease washing over him.

"A wizard who grew up in an abusive, wizard-hating family?" he asked.

"He suppressed his magic..."

"Wait!" Aberforth stood up, gripping the table with both hands. Veins bulged on his arms as he exerted himself. "Are you trying to tell me that he has become an Obscurial?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"Are you kidding me?! The Obscurus, even if he is an Obscurus, how is he still alive? He's at least nineteen years old!"

"I believe his magical power must be exceptionally strong. That's the only way he could have survived this long," Dumbledore explained.

Aberforth slumped back into his seat, feeling a sense of confusion and not knowing what to do.

"I spoke with him, offered to take him home, but... he refused. He knows about his past, but he never sought it out. I believe... he doesn't want to face an even more tragic ending," Dumbledore sighed.

"But the more this unfolds, the less I can ignore it. He is our family, Aberforth, our kin..."

"Alright, I understand. You may go. Let me think it over," Aberforth interrupted, covering his face with his hands and dismissing Dumbledore with a cold tone.

Dumbledore ceased his attempts to persuade Aberforth. He stood up, his expression a mixture of emotions, and silently exited the room.

Aberforth stared at the dark ceiling, his voice murmuring:

"Aurelius..."