Albus had been finding things to keep himself busy. It hadn't been hard; he'd had a little actual work to do, but then he'd killed a few hours burying himself in his own research. But a lot of that needed time to simmer, so he'd made his way up the stairs to the seventh floor, deciding to see if Mr Black needed another set of hands.
He hadn't quite expected to be intercepted by Mr Potter on his way, even if they had mentioned it the day before. Albus hesitated. He certainly didn't lack the confidence to refuse the invitation if he was so inclined, but he knew the conversation needed to be had. So, with a reluctance he hoped he managed to keep under wraps, he followed the other wizard down the hall.
The young professor stepped into the office, taking the offered seat with a nod of thanks. He felt extremely uncomfortable all of a sudden. Albus was a private man - he'd had to be, back home. It was both a habit and a necessity. The idea that this man knew... well, everything, was extremely unsettling. If he was honest, it made the skin on the back of his neck prickle.
"I see," he replied, carefully. He was surprised Aberforth had deigned to speak about him to anyone. Perhaps his brother, and their relationship, had softened over time. As for the rest.... Well, he knew that a lot of that information rested between pages in the library, but there was a different note to it, knowing how Harry had experienced it over the last week.
"Well, thank you for your discretion." He paused, carefully considering his next sentence. "I hope the week hasn't caused too much of a headache for you."