"Aberforth," Dumbledore's voice was clear, cutting through the tense atmosphere, "this is Amy."
Just as Aberforth was about to say something, Dumbledore leaned close to his ear and moved his lips, whispering something that no one else in the room could hear.
Aberforth's blue eyes suddenly widened, and the deep wrinkles across his face seemed to freeze completely, as if someone had cast a Petrificus Totalus on his expression.
He spun around sharply, his whole body spinning with startling speed for someone his age. His intense gaze was fixed intently on Amy with focus, filled with shock and disbelief. His mouth had fallen slightly open.
This was a perfectly normal reaction, though.
Anyone who learned they were standing mere feet away from an Obscurial, one of the most dangerous magical phenomena known to wizardkind, would look the same, perhaps even worse.
After a moment of silence, Aberforth finally managed to squeeze out a single sentence through gritted teeth, his voice was rough and hoarse with emotion, "You... you are absolutely certain about this?"
His eyes hadn't left Amy for even a second.
Amy instinctively shrank closer to Tonks, pressing herself against her side and partially hiding behind her robes like a frightened rabbit seeking shelter.
Perhaps in her understanding, Aberforth was just a frightening strange old man.
His burning, intense gaze made her feel even more afraid now.
"I don't know how I could prove this to you definitively without causing catastrophe," Dumbledore said with grave seriousness. "But you should be able to tell from my tone, that I'm not joking or exaggerating. You know me well enough for that, at least."
Indeed, as Aberforth was surely aware, Obscurials appeared no different at all from ordinary people when they hadn't erupted.
Moreover, the Obscurus was almost always beyond the host's conscious control in most circumstances, acting on emotion and trauma rather than will.
If they were to somehow verify it on the spot through forcing an eruption, the entire Hog's Head, possibly several surrounding buildings as well might be completely destroyed within seconds, reduced to rubble and ash.
It wasn't a power that could be safely wielded or demonstrated at will, not like a simple charm or hex.
Aberforth's unkempt beard twitched nervously as he finally withdrew his gaze from Amy. He took a deep, steadying breath and slowly spoke, "So? What exactly do you want me to do about this situation?"
His tone sounded somewhat impatient, almost aggressive.
And it was deliberately so.
"I remember you used to research Obscurials quite," Dumbledore said carefully, watching his brother's face for reaction. "Years ago, you were quite dedicated to understanding them."
At these words, Aberforth visibly stiffened. He came out from behind the barrier of the bar with jerky movements.
He leaned heavily against a nearby wooden table, his hands gripping the edge, his eyes were what looked like anger. "You've been investigating me?"
"Not at all," Dumbledore shook his head gently. "A mutual friend merely mentioned your research in passing conversation a few times over the years. Wizards who research such dangerous, tragic things are quite rare, almost unheard of, actually. It stuck in my memory."
Aberforth fell silent for a moment, his jaw was working as if chewing over bitter words. Then he sighed with a sound full of old exhaustion and resignation. "You think that research was recent? I gave all that up long ago. Decades ago."
He straightened slightly, his voice becoming more bitter and self-deprecating.
"And... don't think for a moment that I'm anything remotely like you. You're Albus Dumbledore—Headmaster of Hogwarts, holder of the Order of Merlin First Class, the greatest wizard of our age, perhaps of any age. You can easily research complex and dangerous subjects, publish papers, gain acclaim, make discoveries. Meanwhile, I can't even run a proper, respectable pub that attracts decent customers."
He gestured around at the dingy tavern with self-loathing.
"Faced with something as terrible and powerful as an Obscurus, I can do nothing of value. Whatever knowledge I once had is outdated, useless. I'm no expert."
Adrian stood quietly to the side, listening carefully to this exchange and understanding the situation.
Dumbledore clearly believed his estranged brother could somehow help with Amy's problem.
But from the look of things, from Aberforth's body language, his defensive hostility, his self-deprecating words that hope seemed rather unrealistic, perhaps even naive.
Setting aside the question of whether Aberforth truly had the ability to help Amy survive and recover, his resistant attitude alone didn't remotely suggest he was willing to assist or take on such responsibility.
Adrian looked down at Amy standing quietly beside him.
Even without anyone else's help or expertise, he realized, he could temporarily control and suppress the Obscurus within Amy using his modified binding magic. He'd proven that already.
It would just be troublesome—extremely troublesome, actually. Time-consuming and requiring constant vigilance.
Moreover, even with powerful potions to artificially prolong her life and restore her depleted vitality, as long as the Obscurus itself wasn't completely removed from her body somehow, how long Amy could realistically survive remained an unknown variable.
Years or Months? There was simply no precedent.
Perhaps sensing Adrian's troubled thoughts, Amy lifted her pale face and looked at him. She gently shook her head, saying in a small, clear voice: "It's alright..."
Adrian was genuinely somewhat surprised. This seemed to be the very first time he'd actually heard Amy speak aloud beyond whimpers and frightened sounds.
It appeared the young child before him wasn't completely ignorant of everything happening around her, wasn't as lost in trauma as he'd assumed.
She probably understood just how difficult it would be for her to survive in long-term.
"Regarding the Obscurus itself," Dumbledore's voice lowered, becoming heavier with admission and regret, "I truly have no solution to offer. You know as well as I do, Aberforth. If I possessed such knowledge, I would have used it long ago."
Aberforth shrugged, though the gesture seemed forced. "How long can this particular child realistically live? Give me an honest assessment."
The question was blunt to the point of seeming cruel, lacking any softening or gentle phrasing.
But it was also practical.
Adrian stepped forward half a step, deciding to take over this part of the conversation and spare Dumbledore from having to deliver such grim news. He spoke calmly and unemotionally: "Very few Obscurials live past the age of ten years old. That's the recognized pattern based on historical records. But with my help, she might live a few more years beyond that limit. At the very least, I can forcibly suppress and contain the Obscurus when it erupts, prevent it from destroying everything around her."
"What?"
This confident statement made Aberforth's eyes widen as he suddenly grew agitated, pushing off from the table. "You can actually suppress an Obscurus? Successfully? That's... that shouldn't be possible. No one can do that."
"Yes, I can." Adrian responded lightly but with certainty, then added an important caution: "At least, as long as the Obscurus's power doesn't continue to grow significantly stronger over time, which it might."
He was quite confident about this particular capability.
Or rather, achieving that degree of control and suppression would be relatively easy for him now that he understood the mechanism.
It was just that suppression was all he could realistically do.
He couldn't prevent the Obscurus from erupting in the first place when triggered by emotion, and once it did erupt and manifest, it would inevitably consume more of Amy's life force—this fundamental problem couldn't be stopped or reversed.
"Adrian isn't lying or exaggerating his abilities," Dumbledore confirmed quietly, adding his authority to the claim.
Only then did Aberforth truly turn his full attention to Adrian with new interest, as if properly noticing for the first time this younger man who had been standing quietly to the side all along.
This lack of earlier attention was hardly surprising, as the two men had no prior personal connection or relationship.
At most, they'd seen each other a few times in passing when Adrian had visited the tavern, nothing more than that.
"I am Adrian Westeros," Adrian calmly met Aberforth's newly appraising gaze without flinching and said with composed formality, "A professor at Hogwarts, teaching Care of Magical Creatures. Just call me Adrian—I prefer people to use my given name directly."
Aberforth narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing this man who claimed so confidently that he could suppress an Obscurus, something that should be impossible.
Adrian stood there before him with a relaxed, almost casual posture, yet somehow exuded a confidence and self-assurance that seemed somewhat inappropriate with his relatively young age.
"In that case," Aberforth's voice carried a tone of genuine confusion, his face was showing puzzlement, "what exactly do you need me for? Why come here at all? Since this... Professor Westeros already has the ability to suppress the Obscurus, why involve me?"
"That's ultimately just a stopgap measure, a temporary solution," Dumbledore's tone was quite certain. "Aberforth, I know you have experience and ways to properly care for an Obscurial child. I hope that you can look after Amy for a time. Give her a safe place."
"You must be mad!" Aberforth practically blurted out, his voice rose sharply. "Have you actually looked around this place? There isn't even a single decent bed—everything's broken down or filthy! The whole building is falling apart! How is this possibly an appropriate place to care for a traumatized child?"
He gestured around at the grimy, deteriorating tavern.
Honestly, Adrian found himself agreeing with Aberforth's assessment completely.
From his perspective, entrusting the delicate, crucial task of caring for Amy to Aberforth in this environment, with his temperament wasn't a particularly good choice at all.
Moreover, realistically speaking, no one was truly obligated to care for such a dangerous, damaged child, Aberforth was certainly no exception to that.
If anyone had to ultimately bear this heavy responsibility, Adrian accepted privately, it could only be him. He was the one who had saved her, after all. That also created some obligation at last with no options.
"Hogsmeade can't withstand the destruction of an Obscurus," Aberforth continued. "If she erupts here, the whole village could be destroyed. Hundreds could die. Have you thought about that?"
"That's not a serious concern," Dumbledore replied with surprising calmness.
"You won't be caring for the child entirely alone, bearing all the burden. I have several reliable, trustworthy acquaintances here in Hogsmeade who will handle Amy's daily needs—feeding, clothing, comfort, education.
But considering both safety and secrecy, the need to keep her existence quiet, she needs to stay here temporarily. You only need to provide a room for her to live in and basic supervision."
"At the Hog's Head?" Aberforth's voice was incredulous. "You want her living in this tavern?"
Dumbledore nodded seriously.
Aberforth fell into troubled thought, his wrinkled face was working through complex emotions.
He'd truly been profoundly shocked today by this revelation.
A wild Obscurial—he knew exactly what that meant.
Anywhere in the wizarding world, this would be considered a potential disaster, a walking catastrophe.
He understood his brother's thinking: have trustworthy people protect and monitor the Obscurial carefully to prevent that terrible power from being discovered and exploited by those with ill intent, by dark wizards or ambitious fools.
He'd already paid that price once, long ago.
Still, he didn't entirely understand why Dumbledore would give him this particular task specifically, why burden him with this rather than someone more qualified, though he was more or less an unofficial member of the Order of the Phoenix and could be trusted.
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