Chapter 7 - Drink Because You're Happy, Not Because You're Miserable

As Dumbledore had foretold, the Hog's Head was deserted, its single dark, dingy room was inhabited only by a lone bartender. Aberforth Dumbledore was sat slouching over the bar with several empty, grimy goblets lying around as he flicked through a deck of cards, working on a wizard version of solitaire in which he seemed to have abandoned all the rules.

"I rather think it's safe for you to remove your cloak, Harry," the Headmaster said, looking down at the younger wizard.

Harry did as the man suggested and folded up the cloak; little did he know, the cloak he valued so highly was one of the Hallows he'd learned about not so long ago. But of course, he had little reason to suspect that it was. Dumbledore had made sure to make no mention of the word 'invisibility' in his description of the cloak in his tale.

"Another quiet night, then?" Dumbledore addressed the barman.

"Same as it's always been," the man answered gruffly, "What'd you want?"

"A drink would be much appreciated," came the calm reply.

"Drink o' what? Ogden's Firewhiskey? Mead? Rum? Vodka? Campbell's Finest?" the bartender rattled off without looking up from his dusty cards. "...Managed t'get me hands on some Fae brewed Spiritus from '47."

"Do I want to know how?"

"No, now y' interested or not?"

Dumbledore nodded and the bartender finally moved to unlock a cupboard and took out a dusty old bottle, "S'not cheap, y'know," he remarked before popping the cork.

"I trust it'll be worth it."

"Y'want the bottle?"

"This is a celebration," Dumbledore nodded.

"Humph," the bartender hummed and opened the bottle. He retrieved two glasses from underneath the bar and filled both to the brim before slamming the bottle back down in the bar.

"You'll have a drink with us?" the Headmaster said, taking one of the glasses.

"What we celebratin'?"

"A small success on the long road to victory," Dumbledore answered cryptically.

Harry was rather taken aback by the gruff and rude manner of the bartender towards the Headmaster. He wasn't sure whether it was the man's usual attitude towards anyone in his pub since he didn't know him. The only other time he'd been in the Inn was when they'd been in the initial stages of forming the DA and he'd been more than a little preoccupied back then to notice much about the man. He remembered that there'd been a runaway goat and that was about it. But now that he was looking at the two men at he same time, he could see a distinct resemblance and not only because they both had long hair and beards. He watched as the bartender poured himself a drink and pushed the remaining glass towards him.

"Drink up, boy, there's people out there what'd give their wands for a bottle o' this," he said.

"Erm...you know I'm not seventeen yet, right?" Harry asked Dumbledore, though not at all reluctant to drink.

"Correct," Dumbledore said.

"Hmph, the greatest Wizard of the century's got an underage drinkin' friend, Prophet'd love t' hear bout that."

"You don't read the newspapers," the Headmaster remarked, "Neither do you care about monetary rewards for such stories."

"Hmph," the man repeated.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, turning to face him, "I more than think you've earned this after tonight, though I would advise you not to test your limits."

"If the lad doesn't want it, I'll have it," the bartender remarked quickly, reaching for the glass.

"No," Harry said, wrapping his fingers around the dusty glass, "I never said I didn't."

"To the long road," Dumbledore said, holding up his glass.

"To Fae spirits," the bartender added clunking his glass against the Headmasters and the two turned to Harry.

"To underage drinking," Harry tried not to smile as the bartender let out a loud, booming laugh.

"Aye, that too," he chuckled as their three glasses met. He took a great gulp from his glass before staring at Harry, "You was in 'ere last year, weren't you, boy?" he asked, "You and your friends."

"Yes," the young wizard nodded, taking a sip of his drink. It was strong but at the same time as it burned his throat it felt as though he were being enveloped by a warm blanket of feathers.

"So, what was it y'was doin'?" the bartender asked. He of course, knew what it was the students had been plotting, in fact, he'd been the one to inform the Order about it. But he wanted to see what Harry would say about it, if anything.

"All due respect, sir, that's my business," Harry answered even though the man hadn't done much to earn any respect by his rude manner.

"S'my pub that makes it my business."

"Then you should've asked at the time," Harry said, wary of the questioning and confused when the man laughed again.

"You got mettle, boy," he said.

"My name's not boy, it's Harry," Harry couldn't help but say after he'd heard the man refer to him as 'boy' once again. He was more than surprised when the response he got was a smile.

"Where'd you find this one, Albus? Not your usual 'follow my leader' type 'friend', is he?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry frowned.

"Means you got a mind o' your own..."

"Aberforth," the Headmaster sighed in a cautionary tone.

"Lay off, y'old codger," the man waved a dismissive hand, "'Fore you get your wand in a twist. An' while you're 'ere make yourself useful and go talk to her, she still wants to see you...don't know why. She won't talk though, so don't ask her to, she just wanted to see you..." he said reluctantly.

"I...can't," Dumbledore turned away.

"You say that every time and every time I have to explain why you won't even go look at her!"

"You know why."

"I do, she doesn't. You owe her enough to at least look at her," the man scowled.

"Aberforth, don't ask this of me, not now."

"Why not now?" Aberforth the bartender slammed his glass down onto the table and Harry tried to make himself shrink back into the shadows. "Every time I tell you and every time you say you will and you never do. Why not now?"

Harry got the feeling that this was a very private conversation, one that had played out many times and one that he wasn't invited into. It was a strange setup, this conversation. The usually confident Headmaster was acting almost like a nervous, guilty and petulant child while the bartender was the exasperated adult. Harry had never seen anything like it. He wondered why Dumbledore would bring them here if the bartender gave him this much grief every time.

"I can't tell you why," Dumbledore sighed.

"You never can," the man shook his head, "You're a coward, Albus, you never change. You may have everyone else fooled, especially those damn Ministry officials, but not me, I know what you are, and even if you are the next Minister you'll still be the same..."

"I don't know who you think you are but I..." Harry began unable to keep quiet any longer. He knew that Dumbledore made mistakes just like anyone else but surely he wasn't going to sit there and let this man insult him so viciously. He couldn't understand why the man hasn't said anything to defend himself.

"Ah, he speaks, wondered how long it'd take you," Aberforth threw back his head. "Another one of your friends defending your honour, aren't you proud, Albus?"

"Aberforth," Dumbledore said standing up slowly. "And Harry, please, it's ill advised to insult a bartender."

"But I...but he..." Harry said incredulously.

"Where you goin'?" Aberforth demanded as Dumbledore walked slowly across the room to a door.

"To have...a long overdue conversation; something I saw tonight reminded me I should," the Headmaster answered, "...Wish me luck?" he asked quietly.

"No," the bartender said quickly as Dumbledore opened the door. He stood still for a moment on hearing this answer but he let out a sad sigh and stepped through it.

As the door closed, Harry turned his attention back to the bartender and was about to speak but the man best him to it. "So, Harry, not 'boy'," he said, turning his attention to the young wizard, "What're you doin' here outta school term? Not followin' my brother on one of his crazy schemes are you?"

"Your brother?" Harry blinked.

"Yeah," Aberforth said, "Why? Is it so hard t'believe the great Albus Dumbledore's got a brother? Think he sprung up from the ground all ready to rule the magic world or something?"

"No, I just thought thought if someone had a brother they'd be a bit less rude to them to be honest," Harry replied in a matching tone.

"Huh, shows how much you know about him," Aberforth scoffed.

"I never asked anything about him," Harry replied.

"He wouldn't tell you even if you did, he's too ashamed."

"What's he got to be ashamed about?"

"Oh," the bartender exhaled, "You'd be surprised," he said.

In the gloom of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa stood staring out at the land from a ground floor window. In the dim light her pale face looked haggard and her eyes were almost manic; the remnants of months of concern for both her son and her husband. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if the ideals valued so highly by the Dark Lord and by Lucius were worth so much suffering.

"Draco, I didn't want this for you, you're still a child, but I can't change things," his mother told him sadly.

"I understand."

"Do you?" Narcissa sighed, "Do you have any idea why he gave this 'task' to you?"

"I was chosen..."

"This is punishment, punishment for what He sees as your father's failures. He doesn't expect you to succeed. Think about it for one minute, Draco, if the Dark Lord cannot defeat..."

"He could..." Draco sad quickly, "If he learns you said..."

"Severus was right, Dumbledore is strong; grown wizards would not envy you this, it is not a task for a child..."

"I'm not a child, I'm one of his, I am one of his trusted..."

"Draco," Narcissa cried, reaching for her sons' hands with her own, "You are my son, I don't want to lose you."

"I don't have a choice, I have to do this!"

"I know...I know...but not alone. I had Severus make an Unbreakable Vow...he can help you..."

"No one can help me! I have to do this alone, if I don't he'll..."

"But if you fail you'll both be..."

"I won't fail!" Draco ground out, "I can't fail."

"Where is he anyway? Has he got lost?" Harry asked after a brief conversation went quiet. He'd quickly learned that a conversation with Aberforth wasn't an easy thing to keep up. The mans' answers were practically monosyllabic and he wasn't very forthcoming when Harry had asked about what Dumbledore would have to be ashamed of.

"Hope he's talkin' to her," the man relied simply, "He better be..."

"Who?" the young wizard asked, watching as Aberforth poured more of the Spiritus into their glasses

"To her."

"Who 'her'?"

"...Our sister," Aberforth said finally.

"You have a sister too? And she's here?"

"In a way."

"I'm not following," Harry shook his head.

"Her portrait...'s in the back."

"...Oh...then...she's...erm..."

"Dead," Aberforth nodded, "Dead as a...dead...dead person," he closed his eyes sadly, "...For a long time now."

"I...I'm sorry."

"Why're you sorry?" the man muttered gruffly, "Not your fault my brother's an idiot."

"Why'd you keep doing that?" Harry asked soberly.

"What?"

"Insulting your brother."

"He deserves every one of 'em. He's over a hundred years old and you don't know half of what he's done...huh...and you're probably better off not knowin'."

"Everyone's got secrets," Harry shrugged and took a sip of his drink which burned his throat again.

"Him more than most."

"Why are you so bitter?"

"Y'know..." Aberforth began taking a deep breath, "When we were boys everything was always about Albus; our father never let us forget that he'd started doing magic when other kids was learning the colours. People'd say I was jealous but I wasn't," he said.

Harry couldn't help but raise and eyebrow at this and the man continued, "No one ever believed me, you probably don't either, but I wasn't and I'm still not. I didn't really care much for magic, still don't. If it'd have been left to me I'd have dropped outta schoolin' and never looked back."

"I don't..."

"It all went to his head!" Aberforth emphasised, "All that stuff he could do, all the spells he came up with, all the fame and glory...and then he'd come home and suddenly we weren't good enough for him."

Harry couldn't understand why Aberforth was all of a sudden being so forthcoming with this information. It certainly didn't paint Dumbledore in a good light and something told him that that was why he was telling him. When he had been younger and overwhelmed by the plethora of new information from a world he didn't understand, he'd rudely thought that the greatest wizard alive could do no wrong. But he'd been a child then. He knew now that people made mistakes no matter how great or how old they were, but he still respected the Headmaster. He still trusted Dumbledore.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.

"You wanted to know."

"But it still sounds like you're...jealous," Harry said, "I'm sorry, it does."

"What if I told you our sister was...a difficult child to look after and we were left as her guardians when both our parents were gone. You think someone like my brother, with his big ambitions, wanted to stay and look after us? No, he wanted out right from the start."

"This was years ago, you can't still be so angry."

"Can't I?" Aberforth scoffed, "If you knew everything you wouldn't be sayin' that. You still trust him, don't you?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Even though he does nothin' but make mistakes. Y'know what his search for power got him? He's ever the one to pay for his mistakes, other people do because they trust him so damn much. When he makes mistakes, people die."

"...I know..." Harry sighed, "But it's not like he can help it. People make mistakes."

"Ah, so speaks the voice of experience, hmm," Aberforth hummed. "You're a fool, Harry Potter, and one day you'll look around just like I did and see that because of him, you're all alone."

"I don't know why he said we should come here if he knew that all you'd do is..." Harry said.

"Tell you the truth? Maybe that's what he wanted. Whatever it was that you did tonight, wherever it was you went to it made him talk to her again. You have any idea how long it's been since he did that?" Aberforth asked. "...So, where did you go?"

"...I don't think I can't tell you."

"No," he raised an eyebrow, "You best be careful you don't end up like him."

"I think I've heard enough," Harry remarked, standing up. His chair squeaked against the floorboards as he moved at the same time as the door at the other end of the room opened quietly.

"Harry?" the Headmaster spoke, stepping through into the main room.

"What'd you say to her?" Aberforth demanded of his brother before Harry could speak.

"The truth," Dumbledore said.

"Hmm," the bartender muttered in disbelief and stood to walk over to the door, "We'll see about that," he added before going through into the back room.

The Headmaster walked across he room, over to Harry and appraised him with piercing blue eyes. "Judging by the look on your face, you and my brother don't see eye to eye."

"Yeah, he's...erm..." Harry frowned, not wanting to finish his sentence.

"He has reason to be," Dumbledore admitted, "Believe me."

"Why'd you come here if he's always so...rude?"

"He is my brother, Harry, and I've wronged him in so many ways; some things are unforgivable."

"But you're family...family should be..." Harry pursed his lip, wondering just what a family should be. After all, he'd never really known about families until he'd met the Weasleys, but surely, it was better to try and keep ones family close...Unless that family was the Durselys.

"Perhaps one day you'll find out just what happened to make him the way he is."

"He said...well...it doesn't matter," Harry shook his head.

"You say that now and I'm grateful, but you'll think much less of me once you know all," Dumbledore said, making his way to the bar. He deposited a considerable pile of galleons and sickles on the bar and turned back around. "Come, I think we've imposed on my already much tried brother for long enough."

Harry wondered just what a person could that was so unforgivable to ones own brother, but he wasn't going to find out today. So, he took up his cloak and with a barely concealed yawn they walked back out into the quiet streets of Hogsmeade.