A Story for Another Day

*** Present

Dumbledore began to cast spells over the ring.

Finally, he spoke.

"The ring is no longer a horcrux."

Harry gaped, "What?"

Dumbledore was still looking at the ring, pondering.

"It was Death," he said simply, "but why now, why wait for our arrival?" he questioned.

Harry went over to the ring again. He still felt some kind of connection between himself and the stone, but this time it was different.

Instead of him being attracted to the stone...Harry felt like the stone was being attracted to him.

Harry picked up the ring.

"Harry, no!" Albus cried out, sending a banishing spell at the ring. The spell hit the ring, but had no effect on it.

Harry shook his head at his Professor, "There's nothing wrong with it," he said.

"That's what it wants you to think!" Dumbledore said, "No doubt Voldemort has cursed it somehow, it is just yet to make itself apparent to you!"

"If he had cursed it, wouldn't be make it immediate," Harry pointed out, "Otherwise you could abscond with the ring and destroy it before the curse took its effect. I'm sure Voldemort had put some kind of curse on it, but it is gone. I know it," he said confidently.

"Then I'm afraid that it may be a curse placed upon it by death, who cares not how long it takes, just that she holds you within her grasp." Dumbledore said.

"As long as I have it, but do not use it, I will be safe," Harry said, confidently.

Dumbledore frowned, "And where are you drawing all of these conclusions from?" he asked.

Without answering, Harry slipped the ring onto his finger. It was a bit too big for him, but resized itself to fit his finger when he slipped it on. Dumbledore noticed that there was now an engraving in the pearl that was the Resurrection Stone.

He peered closer to read it.

HJP.

Harry's initials. They were engraved into the stone.

Dumbledore took a hold of Harry's hand, and tried to ease the ring off his young charge's finger. It did not yield to his easing.

Harry thumbed the ring off his finger, and it fell into Albus' palm.

The Headmaster hissed as soon as the ring came into contact with his palm and he dropped it. With the reflexes of a seeker, the ring was back in Harry's hands in the blink of an eye.

"You are one who would use the ring to try and bring back those who have passed," Harry clarified.

Dumbledore opened his mouth as if to protest the claim, but then said instead, "Where is this information coming from, Harry?"

Harry's unconscious glance at the ring was enough for Dumbledore to be on alert, "I know you think it won't hurt you, and I don't know what's going on, so I can't say with any certainty that you are wrong, but until we know for sure what's happening here, I think it may be a better idea to wait until we have studied the ring to wear it."

Harry looked like he was about to argue, but thought better of it. The boy shrugged, and slipped the ring off of his finger, and slid it into his pocket. Dumbledore looked slightly disgruntled, as if he had expected the boy to hand the ring over to him, but decided that it was not going to do any more harm in Harry's pocket than it would in his own.

The two walked outside of the small cottage.

"We may as well apparate directly back to Hogsmeade," Dumbledore told Harry, "There is no need to walk all the way back to Little Hangleton."

Harry nodded, and

CRACK

the Headmaster and his student were standing in front of the Hog's Head pub.

"Successful search?" the barkeep asked gruffly.

Albus nodded, "Quite," he said, "May I use the facilities," he asked politely.

The barkeep snorted but pointed to his left nonetheless, where Harry could see an old wooden sign with a crudely drawn rendition of the universal logo for toilets.

Nodding his thanks, Albus walked off into the washroom.

The barkeep cleared his throat, "So, kid," he began, "What's the deal?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Harry replied.

"The deal," the barkeep said, "Whatever my brother wants you to convince me of. He wouldn't use the washroom here, right on the border of his school."

"Maybe he really had to go?" Harry offered, "You gotta do what you gotta do," he said lamely, seeing the deadpan look on the barkeep's face.

"Right…" he drawled out, "Well, whatever he wanted of you, you're not doing it very well," he said, "But then, maybe I'm throwing you off your game by knowing that there is a game being played here."

"You're Dumbledore's brother," Harry blurted out.

The barkeep looked vaguely, "My name's Dumbledore too, you know, but Aberforth will do, 'o minion of my brother."

"I'm not a minion," Harry said defensively.

"I'd bet you didn't even know what it was you were chasing today till you got there," Aberforth said dismissively.

"Actually," Harry said, "Professor Dumbledore has come clean to me about very many things, and I happened to know of the object we were chasing well in advance, and was well-informed."

Aberforth raised an eyebrow, "Well, that is new," he remarked, "I guess old dogs can learn new tricks."

The Headmaster came out of the washroom, smiling genially, despite his battered appearance.

"Aberforth," he greeted again.

With a grunt, the barkeep pulled out the brooms which Harry and Albus had given him, and practically threw them at the Headmaster.

"Good to see you too," the Headmaster inclined his head, and handed a broom to Harry.

Within moments, the two of them were off, flying back to the castle.

"What's up between you and your brother?" Harry asked curiously, "He doesn't seem to like you very much."

"That would probably be a bit of an understatement," Dumbledore said, with a faraway melancholy look in his eyes.

"So?" Harry needled, but Dumbledore shook his head.

"A story for another day."

*** End of Chapter