They walked through the open oak doors. Silver chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their candles emitting a soft, gentle glow.
The office was a spacious, beautiful, oval-shaped room. A stained-glass window, composed of colorful panes, was half-open on the outer wall, letting in the slant of weak moonlight. Outside lay the grounds and the Forbidden Forest.
Behind a desk positioned against the wall sat an old wizard with a familiar face: Albus Dumbledore.
"Albus..."
"Aberforth."
After a muddled greeting, a long silence ensued.
Strange silver instruments whirred on the table, puffing out small plumes of smoke. Under the gaze of former Headmasters and Headmistresses, Melvin, Aberforth, and Dumbledore sat facing each other.
The room's decor had undergone obvious modifications. The walls and shelves were adorned with pink silk ribbons, and gilded perches were tied with bows. Even the wrinkled Sorting Hat had been cleaned and tidied. Every corner exuded a girlish style.
Dumbledore wore a light blue nightgown embroidered with stars and moons. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his blue eyes were profound. He leaned back in his chair, with the portraits of past Headmasters behind him.
Aberforth had removed his disguise. His beard and hair shortened, returning to their original gray—coarser and tougher than Dumbledore's, messy and glinting with a wire-like sheen.
Melvin remained silent, trying to minimize his presence, not wanting to disturb the brothers' reunion.
He lowered his head slightly and saw the black gemstone resting in a silver vessel on the Headmaster's right hand—the Resurrection Stone.
From revealing the news of the Resurrection Stone at the Hog's Head to leading the tavern owner into the room and guiding the meeting between the two old wizards, Melvin's initial mentality of watching a good show had been put away. For some reason, he couldn't say whether this choice was correct.
Silence filled the room. The brothers stared at each other in silence, both possessing the same blue eyes.
"I can always see those eyes in the mirror."
Dumbledore was the first to look away. He lowered his head, picked up the teapot, and asked softly, "Hot cocoa or pumpkin juice? How about Butterbeer?"
Aberforth snorted coldly and didn't respond.
Melvin silently poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice.
"Butterbeer then. It doesn't have much alcohol; it's what the Hogwarts kitchens serve the students. As the owner of the Hog's Head, you might not be used to drinking it." Dumbledore looked at his brother, trying to remain calm.
As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and a world-renowned legendary wizard, he had sensed Aberforth's magic the moment he arrived at the door, but he didn't know how to face him.
A reunion after so many years—it wasn't just the younger brother who was hesitant and unsure.
He paused briefly. "Or you could have a glass of Fire Whisky."
"What for?" Aberforth sneered. "To throw it into your beard when the flames are at their highest?"
"The Fire Whisky I have here is still within its shelf life. The burning flames aren't enough to ignite a beard, and the temperature isn't hot enough. It might not satisfy your needs."
Dumbledore spoke in a low voice, pausing slightly. "In the ten minutes or so you were at the door just now, I heard all the passwords you guessed."
"You knew I was outside and deliberately didn't open the door for me!" Aberforth glared angrily.
"Wizengamot... For the Greater Good..."
Dumbledore spoke to himself, squeezing out a forced smile. "Thank you for mentioning Ariana at the end. It made me feel much better. At least in your heart, I'm not a hopeless case yet."
"Of course you're hopeless! You damned fool!"
Aberforth looked at the black gemstone, his blue eyes bright and sharp. "What on earth were you thinking? Are you senile? You found that damned stone, why didn't you tell me!"
He slapped the table, his burly body shifting uneasily in the chair. Then he began looking around, seeming to search for that familiar figure. "Where did you hide her? Ariana! Ariana!"
"She went back to rest."
Dumbledore lowered his head and poured him a Butterbeer. "She can't stay here for long, even with the protection of the Resurrection Stone. Just like when she was alive, her body is weak and easily fatigued. Every few hours, she needs to go back and rest."
Aberforth froze for a moment, then glared at him fiercely, as if offended. He suddenly became furious, his chest heaving violently as he roared:
"Put away your hypocritical act, Albus! I know you. I know my own brother. In the eyes of outsiders, your image is magnificent, radiating sunshine from every pore. But I know you are a heartless, sanctimonious guy!"
Candlelight reflected on Dumbledore's glasses, making the half-moon lenses opaque and blurring the blue eyes behind them.
"I don't deny it."
Aberforth said roughly, "You learned secrecy at our mother's knee. Secrets and lies—the rest of us need to learn some lessons to master these skills, but you were born with them. You are an ambitious man, a Slytherin ambitious man!"
"Yes, I am."
Dumbledore accepted all the listed crimes completely.
"You... you..."
This humble and submissive attitude made Aberforth feel very uncomfortable. He should be stubbornly sophistical, defending himself with clumsy or brilliant rhetoric, making excuses left and right. That way, Aberforth would have a chance to break his nose with a punch.
But now, punching cotton, his anger couldn't be vented. It was extremely stifling.
"But none of this prevents me from loving Ariana," Dumbledore said calmly.
"Ridiculous! Your love is like expired wine—stinking, worthless, and harmful!"
Aberforth spat, tearing open his wound without scruple. "How many people you cared about deeply ended up miserable and pathetic? It would have been better if you had stayed away from them from the start!"
"..." Dumbledore seemed truly stung in a sore spot. His expression dimmed, and he fell silent.
Seeing him like this, Aberforth pursed his lips, his aggressive stance relaxing somewhat. After a moment, he said, "Give the Resurrection Stone to me. Let me take Ariana back!"
Dumbledore didn't speak but shook his head slightly.
"Ariana liked me, not you!"
Aberforth became angry again, standing up directly. His ferocious expression looked somewhat terrifying. "Don't pretend for too long, don't deceive yourself. You were never willing to worry about her. She liked me best. When Mother couldn't get Ariana to eat, I could coax her to eat. When she had an episode, I could calm her down. When she wasn't having an episode, she often helped me feed the goats..."
"And you, Albus? Do you need me to remind you?"
His volume suddenly increased. "When you were at home, you always stayed in your bedroom upstairs, reading your books, counting your awards, corresponding with the most famous magical masters of the time! Now you are the most famous legendary wizard in the magical world. Are you proud? Are you smug?"