Aberforth Dumbledore (![]() ![]() @ 2010-07-08 13:38:00 |
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Aberforth Dumbledore stood in the middle of the deserted main room of the dingy old pub in Hogsmeade and scratched at his jaw through the scraggly beard he was currently sporting. The place didn’t look like much. In fact the place looked like it was on the verge of falling down at any moment though a few discreet spells had told him that was an illusion at least. It looked dark and dingy and the ceiling was full of webs and assorted other creepy-crawlies. There was a thick layer of dust... or dirt... or both over everything. But the cellar was well stocked with some outstanding vintages and liquors and there was just something about the place that said ‘yes, this is right’ to Abe. And that was what was sticking in his craw at the moment. Yes, he’d be willing to admit that he hadn’t exactly been living the healthiest of lifestyles of late. But he’d been working hard at helping his friends rebuild what the Nazis and Grindelwald’s people between them had done their best to destroy. It wasn’t easy work and some of the things they saw and found were even less easy to deal with so if he’d chosen to drink perhaps a little too much of an evening to ensure he slept, well, that was his own business surely. And contrary to what Albus had said he hadn’t been jumping into the bed of whatever sassy young thing wiggled his or her hips at him on any particular evening. He just slept better when he was with someone else. He wasn’t sure whether it was the company or a subconscious urge not to disturb his bed partner but it was fact nonetheless. It wasn’t as though he was being profligate either. There had been three... no, four. Two of each, men and women, based on whatever nights they were free from where they worked. And it wasn’t even as though he’d sought them out, they’d sought him out. There was a fundamental difference there. And finally yes, perhaps it had been time for him to get out of Europe and come home and just stop and settle down for once in his life. But he could have made that decision on his own, surely? He didn’t need Albus to come and hector and scold him and all but drag him back to England through guilt and coercion. The idea that the ragtag elements that were left of Gellert’s followers would try and revenge themselves on him was utterly ridiculous. He wasn’t the one who had defeated Gellert. Unfortunately. And now he was here it wasn’t as though he had a single clue as to what he was supposed to do with his life. He didn’t exactly have a lot in the way of formal qualifications and the idea of working in some dreary nine to five job didn’t excite him at all. He had to admit though... Albus’ deceptively mild suggestion in that wretched letter that had come via that stupid pigeon, Fawkes, that he might like to look into buying the Hog’s Head was one of his better deceptively mild suggestions. He just didn’t like the idea that his brother knew him well enough to know he’d like this place. "Sir? Mr Dumbledore? Is everything alright?" Abe turned to look at the young man from the real estate agency who had escorted him here and snorted. Despite his current vague sense of disgruntlement, he wasn’t fool enough to cut off his own nose to spite his face. He liked the place, honestly and genuinely. He thought maybe he could make a go of this. He’d worked in enough bars and pubs over the years to know how they were run and this sort of dingy, decrepit place suited him far better than the more bright and sanitised places like the Three Broomsticks or the Leaky Cauldron. This place also opened up possibilities of continuing some contacts and work that he’d rather enjoyed over the past few decades. He glanced around the pub one more time, ignoring the curious looks from the young man. His brother had made quite a spectacle of himself in defeating Gellert and had then caused more controversy by refusing to cash in on it, even turning down the position of Minister of Magic. Abe had a sneaking suspicion he knew why and he was somewhat tempted to call his brother a halfwit while at the same time thinking that it was entirely possible Albus was right to make the decision that he had. Irrespective of that, the name Dumbledore now had a certain amount of notoriety to it in England but he was almost certain people didn’t really know who he was. The old timers would. They’d remember that there had been two Dumbledore boys. But the younger ones, no, they’d only know Albus Dumbledore, Transfiguration teacher, Head of Gryffindor, Deputy Headmaster and now Headmaster of Hogwarts. That Albus Dumbledore had a brother wasn’t something they would be likely to know. He found the curious and speculative looks amusing for the moment. "I’ll take it," he said decisively. "Er, what?" The young man had a slight deer in the headlights look to him. "I’ll buy the pub," Abe said slowly, amusement gleaming in his eyes for a moment. "Oh! Of course! That’s... er... wonderful." The young man looked around dubiously, obviously wondering why Abe wanted to do such a thing. "If you’d like to floo back to the office with me, we can sort out the paperwork." Abe nodded and gave the dingy, dirty old pub one last look before following the young man back through the fireplace. He felt calm and comfortable with his decision and that made him sure it was the right one. He’d learned to trust his instincts on this sort of thing. He’d even be willing to put up with his brother’s 'I told you so'... that’s how convinced he was that he was going to be happy here. |