Brothers and Sisters

Ginny quietly knocked on the Hog's Head Inn's door and they waited nervously outside. Chris glanced back at the other side of the village, the Death Eaters were gone for now but they won't stay gone for long. She pushed past others and was about to knock again when there was a grinding of bolts, the door opened, and a rough voice said: "Who is it?"

"Mr. Dumbledore, it's us," Ginny whispered as the old man peered down at them.

He eyed them all looking between anger and irritation, then stepped aside to let them in.

"Quickly. Go straight upstairs," He said roughly as Chris and the others shuffled inside as fast as they could.

Chris saw the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust bar of the Hog's Head Inn before ducking behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a trickery wooden staircase. The stairs opened into a sitting room with a durable carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a slightly familiar blonde girl who gazed out at the room with a kind of vacant sweetness.

After a moment Dumbledore's brother entered and Chris breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe for now.

"Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore," Harry said looking equally grateful as Chris.

The barkeeper just grunted. He had a long, stringy, wire-gray hair beard, and spectacles. However, behind the dirty lenses, the eyes were a familiar piercing, brilliant blue. For a split second Chris imagined Dumbledore standing in front of them with his silvery long beard, half-moon spectacles, and that twinkle in his eyes indicating his knowledge. 

"What are you lot doing here?" Dumbledore's brother asked grudgingly, a stark contrast to Dumbledore's calm voice.

"Mr. Dumbledore, didn't Dra — I mean anyone from the school inform you about us?" Ginny asked hastily.

"If they haven't, I wouldn't have let you inside," He replied moodily. "I'm asking why you all came back. Don't you lot understand the situation we are all in?"

"Of course we do. That's why we are here. There isn't much time. We've got to get into the castle. Dumbledore - I mean, your brother - wanted us - " Harry tried to explain as quickly as possible but Aberforth Dumbledore just looked more grim.

"My brother Albus wanted a lot of things," said Aberforth interrupting Harry, "and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans. You get away from this school, Potter, and out of the country if you can. All of you. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He's gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don't owe him anything."

"What?" Chris looked at him confused as Harry tried again.

"But we can't, this is not. You don't understand, sir."

"Oh, don't I?" said Aberforth quietly. "You don't think I understood my own brother? Think you know Albus better than I did?"

"I didn't mean that," said Harry looking exhausted all of a sudden but he continued. "It's... he left me a job."

"Did he now?" said Aberforth with a knowing look. "Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you'd expect an unqualified wizard kid to be able to do without overstretching themselves?"

Ron almost snorted and gained a glare from Ginny. Colin and Chris exchanged a worried look, Hermione stared at Aberforth looking strained and Luna remained unfazed.

"I-it's not easy, no," said Harry. "But I've got to — "

"Got to? Why got to? He's dead, isn't he?" said Aberforth roughly. "Let it go, boy before you follow him! Save yourself!"

"Save ourselves?" Chris couldn't hold it anymore. Harry's politeness was getting nowhere. "Mr. Dumbledore, if you haven't noticed, we are almost at war. We are hunted. Every innocent witch and wizard is hunted as long as Riddle and Malgino rule."

"And I suppose my brother has planted in your little heads that you kids can stop those powerful wizards, who have killed thousands?" Aberforth asked Chris pointedly.

"But you're fighting too," Harry said defensively before Chris could answer. "You're  in the Order of the Phoenix —"

"I was," said Aberforth. "The Order of the Phoenix is finished. You-Know-Who's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different's kidding themselves. It'll never be safe for either of you here, Potter, they want you two kids too badly. So go abroad, go into hiding, save yourself. Best take all of these with you." He jerked a thumb at Colin, Luna, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. "They'll be in danger long as they live now everyone knows they've been working with you two."

"But the Order is still working, we can't leave," said Harry.

"Yes, and we've got a job we need to —" Chris began.

"Give it to someone else!" Thundered Aberforth.

"If it wasn't clear before, it can't be anyone else. It has to be us," Chris said firmly trying not to be disrespectful even though Aberforth was making her angry.

"Yes, Dumbledore explained it all — " Harry started calmly but was again interrupted.

"Oh, did he now? And did he tell you everything, was he honest with you?"

The question felt like a slap to both Chris's and Harry's faces, as they both opened their mouth and closed it. They glanced at each other thinking the same thing. Was Dumbledore really honest with them? He told them a lot but everything? Unfortunately, Aberforth seemed to know what they were thinking.

"I knew my brother. He learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Albus... he was a natural."

The old man's eyes traveled to the painting of the girl over the mantelpiece and with a jolt Chris realized why she looked familiar. Earlier in the dark and in a rush to hide, she didn't look at the painting too closely, but now that she did she realized who it was. But before she could voice her thoughts, Hermione beat her to it.

"Mr. Dumbledore, is that your sister? Ariana?" Hermione, who had not spoken in this entire journey, said very timidly. After the heated discussion yesterday, Chris found out from Ginny that Harry had given Hermione an earful and she had run away crying. Right then, Chris herself wanted to go and talk to Hermione but thought against it at the last moment, and asked Ginny and Luna to go, in case she didn't want to see Chris. Chris didn't know what Ginny, Luna, and Hermione talked about, but Hermione looked ready to go afterward. However, she didn't talk to Harry or Chris.

"Yes," answered Aberforth tersely and turned to Hermione. "Been reading Rita Skeeter, have you, missy?"

Even by the rosy light of the fire, it was clear that Hermione turned red, thus naturally Harry came to her rescue.

"Elphias Doge mentioned her to us," said Harry, trying to spare Hermione.

"That old berk," muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. "Thought the sun shone out of my brother's every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, all of you included, by the looks of it."

"No," Chris said suddenly surprising herself and others in the room. There was a moment more than a year ago when Chris had threatened the Ministry of Magic for going against Dumbledore and Harry. But since then Chris had learned so much about the man, who was once their teacher. That was why she knew what Aberforth was trying to say was true to an extent. Dumbledore wasn't completely honest with them and he did many things for them for the sake of the greater good but that man was also ready to die in that forest to save Harry and Chris. And he had done it multiple times. 

"It wasn't about admiring your brother," Chris continued with an even voice. "It was more about doing what's right. He was our teacher. We saw . . . him die in front of us. But even after that his teachings live with us and they will keep living -"

"Until all of his good students are dead," finished Aberforth. "You think, he loved you a lot, don't you? You and Potter? I have seen you two following him around. And now you two are here. Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he'd left 'em well alone."

"Are you - are you talking about your sister?" asked Hermione breathlessly.

Chris sighed as Aberforth glared at Hermione. That girl never learned to hold her curiosity. However, Aberforth's lips moved as if he were chewing the words he was holding back. Then he burst into speech.

"When my sister was six years old, she was attacked, by three Muggle boys. They'd seen her doing magic, spying through the back garden hedge: She was a kid, she couldn't control it, no witch or wizard can at that age. What they saw, scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge, and when she couldn't show them the trick, they got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak from doing it."

Every one of them looked sick and disgusted. Aberforth stood up, tall as Albus, and suddenly terrible in his anger and the intensity of his pain.

"It destroyed her, what they did: She was never right again. She wouldn't use magic, but she couldn't get rid of it; it turned inward and drove her mad, it exploded out of her when she couldn't control it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was sweet and scared and harmless. And my father went after the bastards that did it," said Aberforth, "and attacked them. And they locked him up in Azkaban for it. He never said why he'd done it, because the Ministry had known what Ariana had become, she'd have been locked up in St. Mungo's for good. They'd have seen her as a serious threat to the International Statute of Secrecy, unbalanced like she was, with magic exploding out of her at moments when she couldn't keep it in any longer."

[To be continued. . .]