A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Harry stared at the thing in bewilderment.

"A stag? Is that your Patronus?" Ron exclaimed, looking around and then as if realizing something, gasped softly, "Could it be - could someone have used a Time-Turner? Did we use a Time-Turner!?"

"No, I don't think so," Harry said, partly certain and partly puzzled, "That's not a stag, it's... it's some other creature with long horns."

At that moment, Hermione tugged at his sleeve, surprised, "Harry! Ron! Look over there, it's... it's..."

They turned their gaze in the opposite direction of the castle, through the gap in the wrought-iron gates, spotting a small, blurry figure in gray.

"...Dumbledore?" Ron's eyes widened.

"No," Harry said excitedly, though he wasn't sure why, "It's Aberforth. Come on, let's go!" He jumped down from the halfway climbed slope, moving swiftly.

As they ran, vague thoughts that had been lingering in his mind began to take shape. Perhaps Aberforth knew something about Voldemort's wand... if Dumbledore really intended to give it to Snape, it must have something to do with himself.

At the iron gates, Harry and Aberforth faced each other. "Kid, is it you?" Aberforth grumbled impatiently, suspecting his Patronus had relayed the message to the wrong person.

"It's me," Harry said, panting, a complex feeling surging within him, knowing what the old man had been through.

"What's the matter?" Aberforth snapped. Just then, Ron and Hermione arrived, out of breath.

"Um," Harry racked his brains, "We just saw your... your Patronus, that big-horned creature..."

"A goat, yeah, a goat," Aberforth absentmindedly said, his eyes, as blue as Dumbledore's, gazing towards the castle.

"You're looking for Professor Dumbledore, aren't you?" Harry suddenly understood Aberforth's purpose, "But I don't know how to open the gate, Hogwarts has protective spells..." His words stirred up a hornet's nest.

"I don't want to go in, not at all, understand!" Aberforth suddenly roared, startling Harry and his friends. "This place disgusts me, I can't believe he did this! After what happened!"

"Professor Dumbledore? You—" Hermione said nervously.

"Don't call me that!" Aberforth yelled, "I—Ariana—" He gasped for breath, his eyes horribly wide, his wand spitting flames as if ready to kill at any moment.

The three of them were stunned, mere feet away.

After a moment, Aberforth calmed himself.

"Mind your own business, you lot."

"But," Harry summoned courage, "if you don't like it here, why did you come? And why are you at odds with... Professor Dumbledore?"

Muscles twitched on Aberforth's face.

"You want to know? Because my despicable brother threatened me, forced me to make a choice... look, here he comes." He said viciously, and Harry turned abruptly as Dumbledore suddenly appeared not far away, striding towards them.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said quietly, feeling ashamed, perhaps for getting involved in Dumbledore's conflict with his brother, perhaps for not staunchly defending him.

Dumbledore merely nodded, "You three, go back."

So Harry and his friends quickly left, not daring to breathe heavily. They walked a distance away, and Harry glanced back, seeing Dumbledore with his back to them, his expression unclear; but every wrinkle on Aberforth's face was filled with disgust as he shouted:

"You win, Aberforth. I promise you, the memories are yours, for Ariana..."

"Why was Dumbledore's brother so angry? He looked like he was about to explode—" Harry and his friends climbed the white stone steps, crossed the hall, and when they saw the revolving staircase in sight, Ron couldn't wait to speak.

"Shh," Harry was about to respond when Hermione interrupted, pointing cautiously into the distance.

Underneath the massive notice board stood Mafalda, holding a clipboard, talking to Peeves, seemingly interviewing him. "Mr. Peeves, could you tell us about your proudest prank?"

"You've found the right person!" Peeves said, beaming, floating in mid-air, trying hard to look pensive, his fingers twirling a jester hat.

"Don't disturb them," Harry immediately whispered, leading Ron and Hermione to slow their pace, ascending the spiral staircase.

"Her business has expanded to include ghosts?" Ron said incredulously. "Peeves isn't a ghost," Hermione retorted instinctively, Harry kept quiet, uninterested in Peeves and The Quibbler's ventures, now only wanting to return to the common room to gather his thoughts.

As Harry quickened his pace, stepping two steps at a time, when they reached the second floor, they heard a commotion below.

"...The most satisfying prank, of course, is this one!" Peeves' excited voice came from below, followed by a rain-like "crackle, pop" sound.

"Chalk-head," Ron stopped in his tracks, resolutely saying, "Mafalda's in trouble now."

But then, hurried incantations came from below — "Vadavasius! Tongue-Tied Togger!" followed by Peeves' "Ow, ow," sound. "Mr. Peeves, I've come prepared..." The triumphant voice of Mafalda faded, becoming weaker until it vanished.

"I have newfound respect for Mafalda," Ron exclaimed.

"Harry, do you have any thoughts?" Hermione asked, as they slowed their pace, she looked around the nearby corridors, upstairs and downstairs, not seeing anyone else.

"A bit," Harry said, sitting on the stairs, "Snape's gift, Dumbledore's odd behavior, and Aberforth's anger... they mentioned Ariana, it must be connected, and..." He paused, "I feel it's related to me."

Ron glared anxiously at the portraits on the wall, several of them discreetly opening their eyes, threateningly waving their wands. "Don't even think about eavesdropping, clear off," the portrait figures grumbled, leaving their frames.

"You're... prefect," Hermione scolded Ron, annoyed.

"Yeah, I'm prefect," Ron said, "This place is great, we can hear footsteps coming."

Ignoring him, Hermione cast a silencing charm nearby, then turned to Harry, frowning, "You're right, I've noticed the anomaly too. Though we've long known Dumbledore and his brother weren't on good terms, since Aberforth is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, it implies some reconciliation between them. But now, they..."

"Are like enemies," Harry nodded.

"Could it be something our headmaster did?" Ron said, "You heard it too, Aberforth's quite repulsed by the name 'Dumbledore,' it's definitely related to him."

Harry thought Ron hit the nail on the head.

"He even seems disgusted with the school itself."

"Wait, Harry, listen to this," Hermione said slowly, "I can't believe he did this, after what happened... that

's what Aberforth said, remember?"

"Harry, you're only echoing my point. It proves Aberforth's attitude is linked to Dumbledore," Ron pointed out.

"No, there's a subtle difference," Hermione pondered, "What do you think 'what happened' refers to?" She didn't leave time for an answer, continuing, "I believe it's the tragedy, Harry, the one you told us about..."

Ariana's death — the accident caused by the duel between Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Aberforth.

"Think about it, the tragedy happened almost a century ago, but now Aberforth is dredging it up again, there must be something that's stirred him, and it's related to the tragedy itself."

"Memories," Harry said suddenly, choking, "Aberforth mentioned memories at the end, I guess Dumbledore wants to obtain his brother's memories."

Hermione looked startled.

"But why?"

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