The cold night air of Austria faded the moment Roy apparated into the familiar streets of Hogsmeade. Lanterns glowed warmly, the smell of butterbeer drifted through the air, and in the distance the dim, creaking sign of the Hogs Head Inn swung in the breeze.
Roy's stomach growled.
"Yeah… food first," he muttered and pushed open the door.
Inside the Hogs Head
The bar was as chaotic as ever.
Abeforth Dumbledore stood behind the counter, loudly scolding Albus for "forgetting basic cleaning charms again," while Albus—formerly the greatest wizard of the age, now retired and living quietly—looked like a guilty schoolboy caught stealing honeydukes fudge.
But the moment Roy entered, something bright and fiery flashed across the room.
Fawkes.
The phoenix trilled with joy, soared across the bar, and landed on Roy's shoulder in a burst of warm feathers. Roy chuckled and scratched under her chin.
"Hello there, girl. Missed me?"
Fawkes chirped happily, and Roy fed her her favorite treats—glow-berries and phoenix pepper seeds. She gobbled them up instantly.
"Aye, look who the phoenix actually likes," Abeforth said with a snort.
"You're just jealous," Roy shot back.
Abeforth rolled his eyes but grinned. "What will you have?"
"Your usual special," Roy said, taking a seat beside Dumbledore. "And something sweet for Fawkes."
The Question About the Hallows
Dumbledore watched him over his half-moon spectacles, still looking tired but healthier thanks to Roy curing the horcrux curse months ago.
Roy leaned back casually."Tell me something. If the three Hallows are brought together… can Death actually be summoned?"
Dumbledore blinked, then sighed.
"I wondered that myself once," he admitted. "After I claimed the Resurrection Stone… I borrowed Harry's Cloak and used the Elder Wand. All three Hallows together."
"And?"
"Nothing," Dumbledore answered simply. "No shadow, no voice, not even a whisper of Death."
Roy shrugged. "Figures. Worth checking though."
He clearly didn't care about the old myth, but Dumbledore seemed almost relieved at Roy's lack of obsession.
Food and Complaints
Abeforth arrived with a large plate—grilled meat, spiced potatoes, and fresh bread.
Roy didn't waste a second. "So… Abeforth, how's the old man working here?"
Abeforth immediately launched into his rant.
"Terrible! He keeps reorganizing the shelves, forgets where I keep the cleaning charms, nearly overfed the goats, and he keeps trying to make the bar 'brighter.' Brighter! This is the Hogs Head, not the bloody Three Broomsticks!"
Dumbledore sputtered, "Abeforth, cleanliness—"
"Shut it, Albus."
Roy burst into laughter and continued eating while listening to the two brothers banter.
This place always felt like a second home.
A Gift and a Prophecy
After finishing his meal, Roy summoned a small wooden case and slid it across the counter to Abeforth.
"What's this?" Abeforth asked suspiciously.
"Forty-year-aged vodka. Share it with Dumbledore. Or don't share at all. Your choice."
Abeforth's face lit up. "Good lad."
Dumbledore looked betrayed while Roy smirked.
Finally, Roy turned to the older wizard."Did you read the prophecy letter I sent? Your analysis?"
Dumbledore closed his eyes, thinking deeply.
"It's complicated," he said softly. "But your interpretation is close. Very close. If your reading is correct… a storm is coming. Not from Voldemort. Not from Cassian. Something older."
Roy tapped the table."Then I'll handle it."
Dumbledore's gaze softened. "I know you will."
Fawkes nudged Roy's cheek gently before hopping back onto Dumbledore's shoulder.
Roy stood, pulling up his cloak.
"Abeforth, take care of him. And the goats."
"I always do," Abeforth grumbled.
With a final wave, Roy stepped outside, the cold night swallowing him as he apparated away, leaving behind warm lights, bickering brothers, and a phoenix watching him vanish with ancient, knowing eyes.