Professor Black: A Reader Insert

48. Arduous Justice

Aberforth Dumbledore held in his hands a court summons. It would seem that his darling elder brother, the twinkly git, had ignored his warnings about, well, everything. Then again, it's hard to steer a rampaging erumpent, therefore this outcome, however deserved, wasn't entirely unavoidable. At least now, Ariana will get to finally rest properly.

If he were allowed, Ab would volunteer his own wand to mete out the punishment his foolish brother had incurred in his attempt to clear the family name. He's well aware that the colonies don't work that way, though, so he would settle for watching the git's face as it finally sinks in.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Albus was more of a Dark Lord than even Gellert was. That boy was so kind to Ariana the few times they met that there couldn't have been an evil bone in his body. It was only after he had spent too much time following Albus around like a mooncalf that he'd changed.

Then his mind drifted to that Lord Slytherin that he's seen pictures of in the Prophet. That was Tom. The boy that reminded him so much of Ariana before the incident, incandescent in his hope, but also so muted, like dementors were near enough. He looked to be a fair bit closer to what he once was but his bone deep mutedness was something that would cling to him for his life.

Finally, the Potter boy. Aberforth knew from the moment he bumped into the boy the summer before his first year that he wasn't as okay as he had made himself out to be. He was so small, Aberforth recalled he thought he could carry the boy with one arm for an extended period of time with no complaints from his old bones. He too was brilliant. But he curled in on himself as if to hide himself away and never be seen again. Carried himself as if he had wounds to guard. Flinched at any quick movements like a startled snidget.

Three boys his brother had left his nefarious mark on. He could only hope that his manipulations were the only wrong the git had committed against the younger two. Gellert couldn't receive that hope as whatever he did to the Drumstrang student was certainly too much, it tasted of love scorned and twisted to something foul. The next closest to that would have been the the deep betrayal the Potter boy held, like that of someone who had the wool snatched from their eyes when pushed too far over the edge. Then the enforced apathy of Tom, it was a protective thing, but muggles are muggles and he didn't know if they did Albus's dirty work for him.

Aberforth shuddered at the thought. The micromovement caught the attention of his goat, Rico, who nosed his knee to comfort him.

He found Rico in a very neglected state about two years before he bumped into the Potter boy. Soon the old goat will climb the great mountain in the sky to greener pastures, a thought, though sad, that soothed his old bones. The goat didn't deserve the looks of pity from those fools who read far too much into his run in with the ministry.

Aberforth is the first to admit that it was wrong of him to spell that goat's horns curly when they were meant to only be slightly curved according to its breed. Those idiots think that Rico is the same goat. But no, he wasn't and soon he'll be free from the stares that make the goat anxious along with the other goats he rehabilitated.

The wolf girl was another radiant student whose radiance was threatened as a student and then further so as a grown woman. She was the only one the goats didn't like as a person but absolutely adored as a wolf. It was cute.

After scratching between Rico's horns, he stood from his breakfast table and went to his wardrobe and packed a few robes. All sensible colors and fairly decent patterns. And his only two muggle suits, he couldn't hold a glamor like that to save his life, and he didn't want to risk the Statute. Not in the colonies, they take that far more seriously than the British Ministry does, likely because of that obscuial incident back when.

He'd have to either close the pub or ask his son to cover for him. Aberforth stilled at that. Aurelius was long since dead. He sighed. It seems Dumbledores held a predisposition for becoming obscurials. That or both Tom and the Potter boy were ridiculously resilient.

Closing the pub it was.

Warding it so much you could feel it in Mould-on-the-Wold.

He was ready to testify against his ponce of a brother. Well, as ready as he can be.

~~~~~

Ceres sat next to her twin as he lie in the hospital cot. Hand holding his, feeding him some of her magic to help speed up his healing even if it was only a little bit. He was taken out of surgery only a couple hours ago. The tearing was healed now they're just waiting for him to wake up.

She hoped that he'd wake up at just the right time for himself and that that time was soon. She missed her brother. Like a hollow had been carved out of her very soul, she couldn't feel him.

This must've been what he felt when she was out of commission. She wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. Their bond won't level out to a normal sibling bond until they reach their magical majority. It was an evolutionary trait between litters to help ground them and make it easier for parents  to keep an eye on what could easily be ten pups max in extreme cases.

Ceres knew that her mother would be on her way as soon as she can, but she was worried about Aunty Kim. There must've been complications that the healers working on her didn't forsee. One of which being that after one of the mediwizards assisting the surgery did a diagnostic had symptoms exactly like Reggie's, but worse. Another being that Aunty Kim was allergic enough to normal blood replenishers that her blood does the exact opposite of what a replenisher is supposed to do.

Ceres could do nothing but hope every thing would turn for the better. And hope even further that it would do so soon.