Godric’s Hollow Ⅱ

In the well-sized English village of Godric's Hollow past the little lane that curves left is the heart of the village set in the small-town square. There are several shops, a post office, a pub, and even a little church whose stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright in the late evening from the lighting found inside. It was cold and wet and even the pub was empty as the last night-stragglers had returned home for the evening after drinking.

The village streetlamps brightly lit the main square. However, the residents were all inside getting ready for bed, and a few still sitting in front of the television watching a late-night show. None noticed the wizard that had appeared on the edge of the square who merely stood staring out at the village.

Aberforth releases a loud sigh causing a puff of fog to appear before him. It was not that he hated Godric's Hollow but far too many emotional memories remained behind in the village. It was here where they had lived as a family and it was here where their family had come to an end. It was a feeling of love and hate, nostalgia and bitterness, the complexity of all human emotions.

Aberforth eyes the church and shakes his head. He'd stop by to visit the family graves on his way back. Maybe, he'd even invite Albus. It was the least he could do.

Aberforth hurries down the road and moves past the home of Bathilda Bagshot, before coming to a halt. He had not had the courage to gaze at their former home and yet there it was over in the distance glowing a warm welcoming yellow with a stream of smoke emerging from the fireplace. For a moment, he closed his eyes unable to bear the heartache, before the moment passed like a bad dream. They had left long ago and all that lingered were their memories like ghosts that haunted him.

Opening his eyes, Aberforth is about to move away, when a raspy, old familiar voice complains, "Aberforth, it is almost rude not to stop by and say hello to this old witch!"

Aberforth slowly turns to face the source of the voice standing at the entrance of the garden gate. A petite witch with wispy white hair stands between the hedge opening. Her eyes are sunken with age and there are traces of liver spots on her face. Her black shawl is tucked around her along with a thick fur robe. Bathilda Bagshot scrunches her eyes and nose at him and says, "Aberforth Dumbledore and Albus are the same as ever much too proud and arrogant for your own good."

"Professor Bagshot," Aberforth curtly grumbled in greeting. He'd never been fond of their old History professor and much less after learning that she was the great-aunt of Gellert Grindelwald. Their lives would have been so very different if not for Gellert's arrival that summer.

Bathilda tugs her fur coat around her and shivers for a moment as if cold or perchance at the coldness of Aberforth's voice. Out of the two remaining Dumbledore family members, Aberforth had never hidden his dislike for her unlike Albus, who was always polite and kind to her. She tucks her hands further into her shawl and says, "Well, I best going inside, it's rather cold this evening."

"Yes, that would be for the best," Aberforth crisply answered causing the Bathilda Bagshot to turn away and hurry inside. The sound of the door closing and opening behind her sending Aberforth moving away. All nostalgia had disappeared from his face as he passed their former child home without looking back. They were long gone and all that was left were mere shadows in the depths of his mind. For some ghosts are not made of the flesh nor the dead, but rather of memories of the past.

Down a winding small road at the edge of town, Aberforth arrived at last at a two-story cottage with a small gate, tall hedges, and importantly hidden from muggles, and those alike. Stopping at the front gates, he feels the powerful warding in place, before carefully opening the gate and allowing himself inside. The gates would not open for anyone except for a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Aberforth trudges up the path and knocks on the door. From upstairs, someone peeks through the window curtains before the door slowly opens to permit Aberforth to enter. He enters a clean cottage through a bit sparsely furnished, it had plenty of room for all intent and purposes. He glanced at the flooring and nodded in approval as he could see plenty of vantages of points to defend if necessary, from intruders should the wards and Fidelus oath be broken. For once, Albus had properly done his job.

The door closing behind him pulls Aberforth back as he removes the cowl of his hood. "Aberforth," said the Auror in greeting with a Scottish burr.

Aberforth nods his head in a greeting of the shorter wizard, Alastor Moody. A middle-aged wizard of rather average height. His wavy brown hair reached his collar, but there were several scars on his face. One running down the length of his cheek, one just under his chin, one across the tip of his nose as if someone had tried to remove his face. Another starting across his brow and reconnecting just under his chin, while the last one was just across his neck. A failed attempt to slit the stubborn, veteran Auror's throat.

"Come," Alastor Moody said to Aberforth. "We've been expecting you," as he leads the way to the inner foyer.

Aberforth quietly takes in the recognizable faces in the room. The silvery-haired form of Albus sits next to the hunched-up, bald figure of Elphias Doge. Elphias Doge coughs and glares at Aberforth and Aberforth returns the glare. He had never much liked Elphias, the annoying, cumbersome sod. Their dislike for each other was rather mutual ever since they were at Hogwarts.

Standing together are the two Bones brothers, Edgar and Jacques Bones. The elder, Edgar Bones was a handsome Auror with a square jaw and dark brown hair. His younger brother, Jacques worked in the Ministry as a member of the International Magical Cooperation Department. The two men looked similar alike with square jaws except that Jacques had much lighter brown hair.

Standing near them are the two red-head brothers, Auror Gideon and Fabian Prewett. The elder of the two, Fabian had a long nose, while Gideon was the more handsome wizard. They were strong and a good pair of Auror's. However, confidently holding Fabian's hand is a stately-looking witch wearing an emerald green shawl, Emmeline Vance. She was a talented witch and was now a crucial senior member of the Former Werewolf Integration Department now part of the new Animagus Police Department known as the APD. Apparently, the two were courting and it looked right serious if the rumors were to go by.

Standing together is the youngest Order members, there is Benjy Fetwick. A reserved wizard with light-colored skin and short hair. He was serving under Barty Crouch as his protégé and was hearing everything of importance within the Ministry of Magic.

Caradoc Dearborn was a rather timid, wide-eyed young man. He was rather pale with chocolate-colored hair. Still, the boy was incredibly useful as he was the quill pusher. As a member of the Filing Department in charge of Personnel Files, the boy knew details about the members of the Ministry of Magic that most folk never knew about.

Then were the fiery brats, the recently graduated Auror's from the academy. Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall dark wizard with bard shoulders. The boy shaved his head clean but wore a single hoop earring in a fashion statement. Brats these days thought that they came up with fashion as if it had not been done before.

Sturgis Podmore was a square-jawed young man with thick straw-colored hair. His features gave the impression that his head was thatched. Then again, the boy was a rather solid to be counted upon in a pinch.

There was also Marlene Stein (formerly McKinnon) she was a fierce one alright. She had auburn hair, brown eyes, and fair skin. She had graduated top of her class and was practical. Aye, if ever cornered, she was the one to count on to find the way out and succeed to boot. If he were to choose someone, he would be certain that she would be able to properly guard his back.

As for Dorcas Meadows, well, Abeforth wasn't fond of the pretty witch. The girl had tan skin, warm eyes, and curly hair, and seemingly enjoyed flirting with those that knew her. It wasn't her nature that bothered Aberfroth, but rather that she seemed to cunningly use it to hide her keen intelligence. No one hid themselves that deeply unless they had something to hide. And what could a young witch and especially an Auror have to hide? It couldn't be anything good if the girl had even fooled Albus. And that was precisely why he was there to prevent Albus from making a grand mistake. He wouldn't allow for a second time to occur.