The air reeked of low-quality alcohol.
Mixed with the stench of rotting food, decomposing soil, goat droppings, and the musky odor of sheep.
"The secret passage ends in a sheep pen?" Snape sneered.
Harry realized where they were but said nothing. He raised his hand and poked Dumbledore, gesturing for him to turn around.
Dumbledore looked.
Behind them, the object they'd pushed open wasn't a door or a window—but a painting, swaying slightly. It depicted a gently smiling young girl.
"Ariana," he softly spoke the name of the girl in the portrait.
Snape's expression shifted slightly. He pressed his lips tightly together.
He'd heard that name before.
"The end of the Room of Requirement's secret passage leads to the Hog's Head?" Dumbledore's gaze lingered on the painting, unable to look away. He stepped forward and carefully rested his hand on the frame. "Harry, you should've been gentler."
"Sorry," Harry replied obediently.
"Aberforth shouldn't have put her here," Dumbledore muttered, pressing his palm against the frame. "It's too dangerous."
The other two didn't speak. They listened to Dumbledore's quiet lamenting.
Inside the inn, someone stirred.
A dim oil lamp was raised and heavy, rushed footsteps approached.
"Thieves? Mundungus?" came a hoarse voice, still gravelly from sleep.
Aberforth stepped out, saw the three figures standing by his most treasured painting, and his voice flared with anger: "Get away from that painting, you filthy—"
His words stopped mid-sentence.
He realized who they were.
Harry Potter, who he'd seen before and who occasionally came to the Hog's Head.
The ever-unpleasant Severus Snape.
And—
His brother, Albus Dumbledore, whom he hadn't seen or spoken to in decades—not even through letters.
"A rare visit," Aberforth finally said after a long pause, forcing his mouth open. "Three of the most renowned men in the wizarding world. Not at the Three Broomsticks, but slumming it in my place. I'm honored."
"But sorry…"
"This isn't business hours."
"You're not welcome here."
Dumbledore kept his head down, silent.
Snape frowned slightly.
Harry responded, "We're not here for a drink."
"In fact, we just found a secret passage at Hogwarts. Coincidentally, its exit is in the Hog's Head."
Aberforth nodded. "So that's it."
"I was just wondering what could bring the great white wizard, the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, the ever-busy Headmaster of Hogwarts, to my humble pub—at such an ungodly hour."
Dumbledore said nothing, eyes averted.
"Has anyone come through this passage recently?" Harry asked.
Aberforth shook his head. "You're the first. In fact, I didn't even know it was here until just now."
"I've never seen anyone come through it before."
Harry remained silent. He flicked his wand and gently removed the painting, placing it on the bar counter.
Behind it was a mirror.
"That mirror's been here since I bought the place," Aberforth explained. "Looks like someone put a Permanent Sticking Charm on it. I couldn't get it down, and I didn't feel like renovating. It had a good angle, so I hung Ariana's portrait there."
Harry aimed at the mirror and cast, "Aparecium!"
But the mirror did nothing—just hung there, silent and inert.
Dumbledore and Snape also examined it with their own spells.
Harry even paced before it three times, thinking I need a secret passage to Hogwarts. Since the tunnel was part of the Room of Requirement, the mirror might be an extension of it. Still—nothing happened.
Spells, intentions—none of it acted as a key to open the passage from the outside.
No clues, no reaction.
Aberforth didn't help with the decoding. He grumbled about them ruining his sleep but still brought them water.
"It seems we can conclude," Harry said, holding his cup as Snape opened the door and cold wind blew in, scattering the mental fog, "that there's no way to open the passage to Hogwarts from the outside."
Dumbledore took a sip. The bland water didn't suit him. He reached for his wand to sweeten it with honey, then glanced at Aberforth—and stopped himself.
"I'll seal the rest of the secret passages when we get back," he said instead.
"Crouch's accomplice might return to Hogwarts?" Snape asked, swirling the ice in his glass.
Harry shook his head. "Not sure. But it's possible."
He paused, summarizing what they'd learned.
"Crouch says Voldemort has two Horcruxes left. We can't be sure of that—he might have more."
"The Ravenclaw Diadem is said to be with the Wild Hunt—but again, not certain."
"But Voldemort will return. That's beyond question."
"And this time, he won't be so easy to defeat."
Voldemort was powerful—undeniably so. At his peak, he was perhaps even stronger than Dumbledore. At the very least, he wasn't weaker.
Harry had never faced Voldemort at full strength.
In first year, it was a remnant of a soul. In second, an incomplete Horcrux. In fourth, a weak spirit. Even last year's return had not been his full form—he had a clever brain freshly graduated from Hogwarts, but lacked battle experience, magical knowledge, and raw power.
The encounter at Malfoy Manor…
That Voldemort had caught up in experience and knowledge—but his magical reserves still weren't full.
But this time would be different.
With the Wild Hunt backing him, Voldemort could recover all he'd lost—perhaps even become stronger than ever before.
Dumbledore understood this too. He nodded. "We must find Crouch's accomplice quickly."
"Albus, I know." Snape gripped his glass. "I'll do everything I can to earn Crouch's trust."
Flutter flutter—
Harry looked up toward the sound. Two owls were flying in on the cold wind, landing at the door. They shook off the snow, then stepped forward, raising their claws.
Letters.
Two letters from the Ministry of Magic.
----------
Powerstones?
For 20 advance chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates