If He Lived | Fred Weasley

Chapter Ten - The Story of Aberforth

"These Dumbledores are getting on my nerves with their Pensieves, I swear by Merlin's pants," George said, as he stood there tapping his feet impatiently.

"This is Aberforth's."

"I know, 'mione. It's too much information to process and it's too hard to accept defeat for you, isn't it? End it, love. There are things you don't know," George said with his perfect smirk.

Hermione knew George was right. She sure did not know why was this gate connected  to the Department of Mysteries. She did not know how only Aberforth could find it and not Albus, who was the greater brother in terms of magic. She did not know a lot of things about the Dumbledore brothers, and everyone knew that Rita Skeeter was a bunch of rubbish.

"If this is very easy to find-" she started.

"No it isn't," Fred cut in. "We told you, didn't we? Aberforth told us. His own words. I think that is how we found it. Maybe it is Unplottable. You know how the ancient magic works."

"If Aberforth was Secret Keeper..."

"Hermione!" George shook her by the shoulders. "Of course he was. Or else we wouldn't be here, would we?" He tapped his feet impatiently.

"The Pensieve already has a lot of his memories, right from childhood. Some of them are, well, personal. But we saw it and so can you, if you want to," Fred said gently and stepped closer to the Pensieve, looking at Hermione intently.

"There is also the one with the goat," George whispered to Hermione and smiled his goofy smile.

Hermione returned a weak smile, took a deep breath, clutched Fred's hand tightly, and immersed herself.

A sense of weightlessness she had never felt before engulfed her and she saw that she was falling through nothingness. It did not last a long time. Soon her feet hit ground and she was glad to feel it.

Ahead of her, she could see a small boy of ten, clutching a wand in his hand and looking up to a taller figure. Hermione stared at the smaller boy, who had a very good resemblance to the elder one. With a start she realised: these two were the Dumbledore brothers.

"Albus!" the smaller boy exclaimed. "This wand feels so nice in my hand! I can feel something coursing in my arms! In my veins! Will I go to Hogwarts soon? I'm almost eleven now!" He looked up at his elder brother expectantly.

Albus Dumbledore looked nothing like the deceased Headmaster of Hogwarts he was. He was a very cheerful, happy and smiley boy with a light manner and rather long hair for a boy. The hair was something Hermione was accustomed to.

"Yes, Aberforth," Albus said calmly. Hermione was now sure that it was Albus Dumbledore, her former Headmaster. There was no mistaking that calm voice of his. "Come first of September after two years, we will go together." He smiled kindly at his younger brother, and with a jolt Hermione realised that Albus Dumbledore looked handsome without his broken nose or strange demeanour.

Fred was not looking at the progress of the scene, but at Hermione. He stared at Hermione with a kind of intensity that penetrated into her soul, and he knew what she felt like now.

Suddenly, George nudged her arm and pointed towards the door of a house. She had never realised that they were in a house. As she looked around, she saw that the house was in the shape of a dome, and this was perhaps the largest room in the entire house. The walls were painted an olive shade of green and the roof was a bright yellow; too showy for Albus but comfortable for Aberforth.

Hermione looked toward the door and found a little mouse of a girl, standing by the ledge, watching her two older brothers with fascination. The girl was too skinny but pretty in her own way with shoulder-length, shaggy brown hair and blue, Dumbledore eyes. Hermione knew; this was Ariana Dumbledore.