The journey back to Britain was faster, but infinitely more tense. Hermione, with her wand, was able to secure a camouflaged emergency Portkey at a disused windmill near Calais. The jump was sharp and sharp, depositing them in a cold clearing in the Scottish Highlands.
"Just a hop," Hermione hissed, slipping her wand back into its dragon holster. "We need to conserve what little magic we can move without the Ministry noticing a pattern."
The tension between them wasn't just strategic; it was emotional. Harry felt the relief of her presence like a wound finally beginning to heal, but Hermione's resentment was a solid wall.
"Why Aberforth?" Harry asked as they walked south, avoiding roads.
"Aberforth lives on in spite, Harry. And spite is the purest form of memory," Hermione explained, without looking at him. "He hated Albus's brilliance. And the key to the Mirror, Hic Est Vesper In Quo Amicitia Finit (The Sunset in Which Friendship Ends), is the exact date Grindelwald and Albus parted. Aberforth, who witnessed it all and bore his sister's grief, is the only one who would preserve that moment with clinical precision."
Infiltration in Hogsmeade
Hogsmeade was a ghost town. The chimneys were smokeless. The shops were boarded up or converted into barracks for the Magical Suppression Patrol (MSP) , a paramilitary force of wizards loyal to Voldemort. The only light that shone was in the Hog's Head , Aberforth Dumbledore's tavern.
The risk was extreme. The proximity to Hogwarts—now an ideological stronghold of Voldemort—meant constant surveillance.
Challenge 1: The Silent Scan (The Paranoia Barrier)
Before entering the village, Hermione stopped abruptly and took a small, rotating brass object from her pocket: a Modified Intrusion Detector .
"They've placed a network of Interference Runes on the edge of the village," Hermione whispered. "They're not looking for magic. They're looking for strange biological patterns . If you walk right through it, you'll alert the scanner. They're thinking with paranoia."
Harry realized the danger. His scent, his footprints, the very vibration of his body could be detected.
"How do we cross it?" Harry asked, feeling the pang of being helpless without a wand.
"With the mind, not the force," Hermione replied. She produced a small ball of cobweb with the remains of a potent muffling charm. "This is a 'footprint silencer.' I cast a simple spell to camouflage our footsteps, but you, Harry, have to use Occlumency to turn off your mental presence . You have to think about the pain of exile. Of becoming the most boring, dead thing in the world."
Harry hated the idea of having to resort to the technique Snape had taught him, but the memory of the Dementors drove him on. He closed his eyes and sank into the void of his five years in Cornwall, the fog, the smell of fish, the indifference of the Muggle world. When he opened his eyes, his mind was a blank canvas of apathy.
Hermione cast the spell. The crossing was slow, meter by meter, with the palpable risk of an Auror stepping out of the shadows. Harry's ability to transform his pain into stealth was the key, a new dark weapon forged in failure.
The Hardened Heart: Aberforth
The Hog's Head Tavern was almost completely dark. Only a single oil lamp on the bar cast a flickering circle of light over Aberforth Dumbledore 's face . The man had not changed: older, more crestfallen, but with that eternal look of defiance in his blue eyes, eyes that shared the same mad glint as his brother.
His wand was under the bar, ready. Harry and Hermione sat in the darkest corner.
"We don't sell Butterbeer to criminals on the run," Aberforth growled, without even looking at them.
"We're not looking for beer," said Harry. "We're looking for a date. The moment your brother's friendship with Grindelwald broke down. Hic Est Vesper In Quo Amicitia Finit ."
Aberforth froze. He placed a tankard on the bar, the glass clanging with a dry echo.
"They come seeking the secrets of my brother's war, as if it were a legend. Haven't they caused enough damage?" His voice was a dull thunder of resentment.
Challenge 2: The War of Words (Tension and Resentment)
"If you know, you must say it, Aberforth," Hermione implored, her voice trembling slightly. "It's the key to reversing what happened. To undoing the defeat."
"Undo?" Aberforth laughed bitterly. "My brother left you, the boy who had to save everyone, and your brother, to clean up his mess. I kept the tavern. Do you think I want the only punishment my brother ever imposed on himself undone : the guilt of his own ambition?"
Tensions erupted between Harry and Hermione.
"You're either with us or against us!" Harry demanded, raising his voice.
"Shut up, Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Your anger doesn't work here. This is family pain."
She turned to Aberforth, her expression one of controlled despair. "Aberforth, if the Mirror of Eridanos can reverse a mistake, it means Albus didn't use it. He refused to undo his failure because he felt he must live with the guilt. But we don't have that luxury. Our guilt killed thousands. If you know the date of the rupture, of that fight where Grindelwald left your family home forever... it is the moment Albus damned himself. Tell me the moment of his penance to finish ours. "
Aberforth looked at them both. In Hermione, he saw Albus's logic. In Harry, he saw the uncontrollable rage he himself had felt.
The man gave up. "The evening when the friendship ended… wasn't the day of the fight," he whispered. "It was the day after. Grindelwald returned to the house. Albus begged him. Gave him one last chance. But Grindelwald laughed and cursed him."
Aberforth slid a piece of timeworn parchment through. There were no runes. Only a prose inscription:
"August 19, 1899. 6:37 p.m. The betrayal was consummated under the shade of the oak."
"That was the last time Albus Dumbledore wept. And the exact moment the man he loved chose the Darkness. Go and let that darkness save you, for the light can no longer," Aberforth finished, his face a map of sadness.
The Battle at the Exit
Harry grabbed the parchment. Before they could speak, the bar door opened with a bang. Three PSM Aurors entered, their wands ready.
"Aberforth! Who's been here? We're sensing a fluctuation of foreign magic !" demanded a masked Auror.
Harry and Hermione looked at each other. They couldn't Apparate, and they couldn't use powerful spells.
Challenge 3: The Deception of Raw Magic (Escape from Confrontation)
"Behind the bar! The portkey on the ceiling!" Aberforth whispered.
Hermione acted first. Quickly, she grabbed a sack of Redflame Powder , an ancient artifact that emitted light and heat without traceable magic. She threw the sack toward the fire in the fireplace. A blast of blinding light and heat filled the bar, forcing the Aurors to take cover.
At the same time, Harry, remembering Elijah's tricks, shoved the Dragonbone Lantern onto a table, activating its blinding pulse of raw energy once again. The two untraceable flashes plunged the bar into chaos.
Aberforth raised his wand for the first time, pointing it at the ceiling. A small wooden object hidden in a beam lit up: a weak, low-level emergency Portkey.
"Hold this!" shouted Aberforth, throwing them an old goat blanket.
Harry and Hermione grabbed onto the blanket. With a sudden tug at Aberforth's command, the pub disappeared.