48 | some truths we wish we could hide

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xxxxviii.

some truths we wish we could hide

(South by Sleeping at Last)

_________

January 31, 1980

Albus Dumbledore believed he was getting too old for this.

As he strode out of the Hogwarts castle and into the quiet streets of Hogsmeade, he knew he had far better things to do today. With Voldemort still at the height of his power, horcruxes hidden inside his office, training sessions with Regulus Black, and the peculiar conundrum that was Hermione Pettigrew, the old wizard understandably had too much on his plate right now. The ministry had been wringing him raw for ideas on how to keep the Death Eaters at bay, calling meetings at ungodly hours of the day just so they could discreetly discuss tactics to strengthen the protection of Muggle and Wizard alike from the Dark Lord. The Order of the Phoenix had been tiring him too, especially with the new predicament of the members being stalked by Voldemort's minions.

All in all, Dumbledore was a very, very busy man and he wished for today to be at least a peaceful one just so he could collect his thoughts, spend time with his beloved phoenix, and browse through the various knitting magazines he'd procured from a Muggle bookshop to brush up on his knitting skills.

Regrettably, he was an educator above all, with a formidable school to oversee. The students' welfare was still one of his top priorities and Dumbledore knew he couldn't let this current problem of his slide. Not when parents had been persistently owling him for days, demanding to find an immediate replacement for the Divinations professor, Gawain Cayce, seeing that OWLs and NEWTs were fast approaching and their children needed to learn.

Hence, here was the great and almighty Albus Dumbledore, walking through the streets of Hogsmeade in hopes of hiring a decent replacement for Professor Cayce so that he could finally achieve the momentary peace he wanted for himself.

It was Professor McGonagall's usual job to fill in the teacher positions for Hogwarts, but the Deputy Headmistress was currently indisposed. He'd rather not wait for her to return a fortnight from now and endure the wrath of tenacious parents, thank you very much.

Albus kindly smiled at those who were still prowling the streets at night until he arrived at the Hog's Head. The small overhead bell made a cheery jingle when he went inside. As always, the whole place had seen better days. Cobwebs were present in every corner he could see. Some of the tables looked rickety enough to topple after a couple more uses. Most of the frequent patrons looked quite shady, nursing a dirtied glass filled with firewhiskey to the brim, already lost in their own little worlds.

A soft, exasperated sigh escaped from his lips, his eyes instantly latching on Aberforth. His younger brother had always been untidy, even as a child. He'd admittedly believed it would be disastrous for Aberforth to man a pub, much less one that was near Hogwarts, but it had been surprisingly thriving. If one was willing to overlook the fact that the Hog's Head smelled strangely of goats, the meal and drinks would be deemed passable.

His younger brother caught his eye and tipped his head in greeting. He then canted his chin towards one of the back rooms in the pub and went back to wiping the bar counter.

Albus sadly smiled at Aberforth's curt dismissal, but it was a start. At least he was already talking to him again. Aberforth still hadn't forgiven him for Ariana and he technically hadn't apologised for it either. But he was just happy they were interacting once more. He was glad that if there was one good thing Voldemort's reign of terror had brought, it was to painstakingly mend the strained relationship he had with his younger brother.

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