Unofficial Portkey Archive

The soft glow of the light obscured the hideous faces within the inn. The pub smelled of piss and liquor mingled with various aromas of the different herbs burning within their pipes. During the summer, there were far fewer patrons due to the lack of activity at the school on top of the hill. The bartender was a fat, ugly man who loved stories. During this particular summer night, he had the attention of a handful of patrons.

This particular inn was tucked into a back alley of the famous village of Hogsmeade. Sandwiched in between an apothecary and an antique shoe store, it was easy to miss, barely a hole in the wall. While it didn't have nearly as many rambunctious patrons as the infamous Hog's Head, there was an underlying darkness to the inn. It was appropriately called The Dead End.

As the fat bartender waved his wand from his stool to wash some more mugs, the door burst open and in stepped one of his regulars. He claimed to be a retired Hit Wizard, but the only thing this wizard was probably hitting was the pipe. A notorious but genial drunk, Fabian Fallow was well known around The Dead End.

"You know the drill, Thomas," Fabian slurred as he sat down at the bar.

Thomas Tethercorn poured another Firewhiskey in Fabian's glass, pouring the hot liquid smoothly for his best tipper. To Fabian, the Firewhiskey was water and he sipped on it despite the smoke billowing from his ears. There were only three or four other patrons, all seated at the bar, on what constituted as a relatively slow night for Thomas.

"Have you heard about the student at Hogwarts?" Thomas asked a general question to his handful of customers.

"Who doesn't know about Harry Potter?" Fabian said as he downed the rest of his Firewhiskey. "Another!"

As Thomas obliged the drunk, a small man named Salt spoke up. "I've heard some stories about him."

Salt was notorious for his library of nonsensical stories. He told so many of them at The Dead End that others were convinced that he made most of them up. Still, he could weave a good tale and many spent a night listening to some folly that Salt had drawn up.

"Have you heard the one where he summoned lightning from the clouds?" Salt asked as he leaned forward onto the bar, his bony elbows digging into the wood.

"Codswallop," snorted Big, the dwarf. "You wizards get more full of yourselves every day. Not even Merlin could call down lightning!"

"Honest to my second mother." Salt held a scrawny hand to his chest. "They were doing one of them battle things and the boy called down lightning from the clouds and shot it through his fingertips."

"I've heard that one is true," Fabian offered.

"Not true," said the figure at the end of the bar, seated a good distance away from the others.

Fabian, Salt, Big, and Thomas looked down towards the man with the hood pulled low over his face. He was sipping on what must have been piss warm beer at this point, staring doggedly ahead. He hadn't said a word to anyone since he walked into The Dead End and he sure wasn't a regular.

"It's all a fabrication, meant to build the boy up," continued the shadowy figure at the end of the bar.

"I'm up for as good of a conspiracy story as any, but I've seen the boy," Fabian rebutted. "That's Merlin incarnate up at that school."

"Lies," hissed the shadowy man. "It's nothing more than propaganda, lies by the Ministry to excuse the school of what they've done over there."

Fabian, Salt, and Big looked at each other and burst out in laughter. Even Thomas chuckled, his big belly heaving from the effort. The shadowy man at the end of the bar did not laugh, but he pulled his cloak tighter around him as he bristled.

"You've got no arguments here, but you're missing the point," Fabian said. "You don't just go and kill You-Know-Who without some special magic. I've heard from more than one people about this story in the forest. It's one thing if Salt says something -"

"Hey!" exclaimed Salt.

"-but it's another thing if they're talking about it all over Hogsmeade. The stories about the boy are true, mystery man, but why don't you come over here and have a drink with us. It's a bit dank on that side of this inn."

"Hey!" snapped Thomas, the bartender.

"Only true." Fabian shrugged.

The man in the cloak didn't budge from his spot, brooding silently in the corner. Fabian waited for a moment and looked at Big and Salt. Big just shook his head, reflecting his general disdain for wizards with one mean look over his hooked nose. Salt just wanted to continue telling his story.

"So how'd it go then, Salt?" Thomas asked.

Salt licked his lips, rubbing his spindly fingers together in anticipation.

"The story goes that they were competing in a sort of royal rumble of battles. All four houses were in the forest, battling each other. It was a pitched fight, students falling down everywhere whilst an inferno raged from all the spells. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of burnt clothing as those maniacal students charged again and again at each other. The Potter boy was trapped, pinned from a combination of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors that were both gunning for him."

"I thought it was Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws?" asked Fabian.

"Let me finish my story," Salt irritatedly responded. Shooting Fabian a glare, Salt continued.

"Anyway, the Potter boy was pinned by some Ravenclaws and -"

"-Hufflepuffs."

"-Gryffindors. They had the Slytherins surrounded in a clearing, point blank like Flobberworms in a barrel. Then, they heard a rumble coming from the sky. There weren't any clouds so it definitely wasn't a thunderstorm and it felt like it was coming from the ground. The Potter boy raised his wand and from a cloudless sky, lightning shot towards his wand. He extended his hand and the lightning channeled through his body and he shot it from his fingertips! Zap! Zap! The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors went down and Potter beat twenty of them just like that. They call him The Bringer of Lightning."

"This is the most ridiculous I've ever heard," Big interrupted. "Wizards summoning lightning from a cloudless sky and shooting it from their fingertips? This is low. Even for you, Salt."

"Honest to my third mother, it's true!" Salt insisted.

"That's not how the story goes," Fabian said as he downed another Firewhiskey. Thomas immediately replenished the drink.

"Oh now you know the story!" Big threw his hands in the air in frustration.

"I know the true story."

"Bollocks," Salt interrupted. "My version is the truth."

"Thomas, can you get these two wankers more drinks? They're going to need to settle in if they want to hear what really happened," said Fabian.

Thomas chuckled as he lazily waved his wand and summoned two more drinks for Salt and Big.

"If you want to really know what happened, then pay attention." Fabian leaned forward, his bloodshot eyes looking lively for once.

"I know what happened," Salt insisted.

"Just shut up, Salt, and listen. It's true they were having a battle with all four houses in the forest. No one has disputed that. But the truth is that it wasn't an open battle like you described. It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse as Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had teamed up against Slytherin for slighting them earlier in the year. Gryffindor remained neutral, but they were tactically staying out of the way. You see, I know these things from my days as a Hit Wizard -"

"-of course." Big rolled his eyes.

"- and as I was saying, it was centered around the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs hunting down the Slytherins. After some clever maneuvering from the Ravenclaws, they had the Slytherins surrounded against an impenetrable bush. Come out and give up, they yelled! Potter, knowing that he had no other option, asked the rest of the Slytherins to draw a distraction so he could flank the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs unbeknownst to them. So Potter got around them in the following melee. Once behind them, he raised his hands to the sky and clapped them together like THIS!"

Fabian clapped his hands together above his head, the reverberating sound echoing over and over again in the near empty bar.

"It wasn't a cloudless sky, but a rush of clouds appeared from nowhere as lightning descended from the heavens. Then, the boy shot lightning from his fingertips, striking down the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Yet, he didn't see the Gryffindors standing behind him and they struck him down while he was distracted and the Gryffs ended up winning. That's the real story."

"Bonkers. Absolute madness," Big snorted into his drink, a booger mixing in with the beer.

Salt sniffed, both of his thin hands wrapping around the glass of his drink. "I like my story better."

"But my version is the truth," Fabian smugly replied.

A well settled silence overtook the lot of them for a moment. It was an easy kind of silence, the one held after a strong bout of conversation. After all, these folks had time to kill and nowhere to go. For them, it was just another night slowly circling down the drain. Fabian picked his head up from the bar counter, noticing that the Firewhiskey was finally having its intended effect after his fourth drink.

"That's crazy what they're doing up there. Makes you wonder how the kids feel," Thomas broke the silence.

"You want to know what I heard?" Salt perked up, leaning on the bar counter again.

"Oh, not another one of your stories," Big grumbled.

"Shut up, Big. You're always so damn grumpy."

"You would be too if you had to listen to the drivel you put out everyday," Big shot back.

"I'm trying to tell you why they changed that school. Don't you want to know?"

"Everyone knows why they made the school the way it is," Fabian cut in. "After Dumbledore died, they wanted to make sure they had enough students capable of fighting the next Dark Lord. Why else would they do it?"

"No, no, no." Salt shook his head. "That's not it at all. You're missing a key point. You see, Dumbledore never died!"

Big and Fabian both groaned and even the unknown man in the cloak snickered from his spot in the corner of the bar.

"For fucking Merlin's sake, you're not going on about that again are you?" Big moaned. "Dumbledore died. People saw it happen."

"I swear, you're worse than those travelling Seers sometimes," Fabian added.

"But it's true! Thomas, you're with me on this one right? Dumbledore is still alive!" Salt continued.

Thomas chuckled, his belly rolling underneath his plain white shirt. "You're on your own for this one, Salt."

"Listen." Salt downed the rest of his drink as he launched into another one of his stories.

"Dumbledore never died. All of you know the story. It was the middle of the war against You-Know-Who and it was still pretty much dead locked. Mind you, I was terrified and ready to shit myself at a moment's notice. Those were dark times."

"Dark times indeed," Thomas murmured softly.

"One day, Dumbledore is at one of their secret headquarters and it explodes! Fire and brimstone and the whole deal! There's a traitor to be had and he flipped the whole plot on them, sicking You-Know-Who onto their hideout. There was a major battle between the Death Eaters and the so called Order of the Phoenix. This is where everyone thinks Dumbledore dies."

"That tin foil hat on your head must be heavy," Fabian commented.

"And you're not wrong. Dumbledore did die."

"I thought you said he didn't die? You really need to learn your own stories," Big harped.

"Would you let me finish?" Salt snapped.

"Dumbledore did die, but he was up to some very, very dark magic. Magic that can't even be spoken of."

"Are you sure you just can't pronounce it?" Fabian asked.

"That's it!" Salt threw his hands in the air. "I can't continue on like this. You are purposefully undermining my craft."

Salt pushed away from the bar counter in a huff as Big howled with laughter. Thomas chuckled as he flicked his wand and refilled Salt's drink. Fabian hauled the little man back while he laughed, forcing him to sit back down on the stool.

"Alright, alright! Keep going, Salt," Fabian said.

"And you won't interrupt my story?" Salt jabbed his pointer finger into Fabian's chest.

"Tell the story." The man in the cloak growled from the other side of the story.

For the first time, there was a general uneasiness about the quartet on the main side of the bar. Salt looked over at the man in the cloak nervously, wishing he could at least see his face. Big shifted in his stool, his little feet swinging uneasily as they all stared at the man in the cloak to see if he would say anything else.

"Well," Fabian cleared his throat in an attempt to defuse the tension. "Go on, then."

Salt paused, still looking warily at the man in the cloak. Clearing his throat as well and taking another gulp of his warm beer, Salt continued his tale.

"Where was I?"

"Dark magic," Fabian reminded him.

"Right. Anyway, Dumbledore was practicing some dark magic. Magic that could bring him back from the grave. So You-Know-Who did kill him and everyone saw that, but that wasn't the end of it. On the third day, Dumbledore came back -"

"I think you're thinking of a different story," Big interrupted.

"For the last time, Big!" Salt huffed as he took another drink. "Dumbledore came back and he's hiding in the forest, drinking unicorn blood to stay alive. That's why you keep hearing all those stories about unicorns being killed in the forest! That's the spirit of Dumbledore, trying to stay alive."

"If Dumbledore is still alive, then why is he drinking unicorn blood?" Thomas asked.

"Well, you see, um, he's actually still dying."

"But you said he was alive."

"No, I said that he came back. What you're missing is, um, the fact he needs to drink unicorn blood."

"And why does he need to drink unicorn blood?"

"Because it does stuff!"

"Like what stuff?"

"I don't know! What the bloody hell do I look like? A potions master?! That's just how the story goes. He just needs the unicorn blood!"

"And what does this have to do with why they changed the school?"

"Um, you see, it's a cover. It's a cover for hiding Dumbledore."

"But he's in the forest."

Salt glared at Thomas, the usually taciturn bartender. "You're a right bastard, you know that? You've gone and ruined my story."

"Not much of a story to ruin in the first place," Big mumbled into his drink.

"What'd you say?!" Salt whirled around to glare at Big.

Fabian clasped an arm around Salt, laughing as he did so. "Calm down, Salt. They're just trying to rile you up. I thought it was a perfectly good story."

Salt continued to bicker with Big, starting to lay into dwarf insults as the alcohol took more control. Fabian and Thomas laughed at their antics, enjoying the way Salt's skinny arms would flail about while Big pretended to be a normal sized wizard and jabbed his stubby finger into Salt's midsection.

"I know a story."

The man in the cloak spoke up amidst the rambunctious interlude. The quartet fell silent again, staring at the man in the corner. His warm beer was almost gone, the last dregs being the bubbly froth of his drink. He was still hunched over, his face unseen.

"I heard that the Dark Lord killed Dumbledore. Then the boy killed the Dark Lord, but a small piece of the Dark Lord's soul was still alive."

The man in the cloak shifted on his stool, a row of pearl white teeth finally being shown. Thomas coughed, hiding his face behind his elbow.

"The Dark Lord haunts the halls of Hogwarts, disturbing students in their sleep. That's why they made the school the way it is. It's actually the Dark Lord that's running the school and he's building up an army right underneath our eyes."

Thomas, Salt, Fabian, and Big looked down the bar, bleary eyes staring at the mysterious man in the cloak. There was a heavy silence, one that fell over The Dead End like hands clapped over ears. Then, Big snorted. It was just one ungracious sound, but it set off a chain reaction as the rest of the group dissolved in raucous laughter.

The man in the cloak abruptly stood up, his stool screeching as the wood scraped against the floor. His cloak flew off his head and he was finally revealed. There was nothing that mysterious about him. His hair was long, dark, and oily. His face was round, pudgy and soft like a mango. His cheeks were red as a tomato as the laughter continued even after they realized he had finally shown himself.

"What are you laughing at?! This is a serious matter!" he cried.

"You're a fucking riot, mate," Fabian wheezed out. "The Dark Lord haunting the halls of Hogwarts, building an army. Now, that's quite of a wind up."

"It's true!" The mystery man exclaimed. "He's going to rebel against the domineering Ministry and set us free!"

"I think you've had one too many," Thomas, the bartender, said lightly.

"Haunting the halls," Big said in a merry tune, swinging his mug to and fro as he and Salt launched into a chant.

"What's your name, mate? Come over here and stop being a prick," Fabian implored.

The man in the cloak crossed his arms petulantly in front of him. "My name is Sam and I think I'm going to take a piss and leave this forsaken place."

As Sam, the not so mysterious cloaked figure, was leaving, Fabian lurched from his stool, almost falling and breaking his lengthy nose in the process. This misstep sent Big and Salt into more hysterics as they struggled to find lyrics for Haunting the Halls. Fabian took it in stride, swigging down another gulp of his Firewhiskey.

"Have a little laugh, Thomas!" Fabian yelled at the strangely straight-faced bartender.

"I think you three can more than take care of that," said Thomas, who was curiously watching Sam disappear into the back of the pub.

Fabian figured that Thomas was just making sure he kept track of all his patrons. Needing to relieve himself as well, Fabian made his way towards the hallway that housed the cramped, two urinal bathroom. Letting himself in, the falsely acclaimed former Hit Wizard frowned when he found Sam conspicuously absent from the loo. Unzipping his pants, Fabian called out for the grumpy man.

"Sam?!"

While he was well on his way for another night of copious drinking, Fabian still had enough wits about him to find it suspicious that Sam would claim to go to the loo and then not be found just seconds after Fabian followed him. Fabian had the feeling that the chubby fella believed what he said and found himself suddenly concerned for the well being of the pub. What if he meant danger? The pub might have just been a hole in the wall, but it was Fabian's favorite hole in the wall.

Zipping up, he flushed the urinal and left the loo to find Sam. Figuring he wouldn't head directly for the bar and that it wouldn't hurt to make sure that Sam wasn't doing anything dangerous, Fabian followed the hallways back towards the kitchens. He had rarely been in this particular area, but he figured Thomas wouldn't mind as he was a regular. Creeping slowly, Fabian called out again.

"Sam?" Fabian asked out in a quieter voice.

Pushing open the swinging door to the kitchen, Fabian found it more perturbing when he found no one in the kitchens as well. Usually, Thomas would keep a House Elf or at least a cook back here for late night dinners, but it was strangely empty. There was a cauldron of some sort of boiling in the middle of the kitchen but upon inspection, it was definitely not alcohol as it held some foul odor instead.

Thump.

Fabian jumped as he heard something fall against one of the closet doors. His heart suddenly pounding, Fabian walked slowly towards the closet door, awaiting any movement. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he struggled upon a course of action. Perhaps emboldened by the alcohol in his veins, Fabian threw all caution to the wind and opened the closet door. A thick mass immediately tumbled out and Fabian was shocked to find Thomas the bartender, unconscious and bound by tight ropes.

"Thomas?!" Fabian desperately cried, not understanding how Thomas had so quickly found himself in this predicament.

"I was afraid of that."

Fabian whirled around to find Thomas, the bartender, standing in front of the swinging kitchen doors. Blinking, Fabian looked back and forth between the two bodies, trying to find some semblance of sanity in the situation.

"Why are there two..." Fabian trailed off.

"A locking charm. I must really be out of practice to forget such a simple thing. To be fair, I didn't have a lot of time before you lot came in."

Fabian bit his tongue, such was his discomfort. His head kept swiveling between Thomas, the unconscious bartender on the ground, and Thomas, the strangely regretful bartender in front of him. He hoped it was just the alcohol and that he had far underestimated how much he drank, but there was a tendril of dread that started to creep into the back of his mind.

"I suppose I could Obliviate you."

"Why...why would you Obliviate me?" Fabian wondered in confusion.

Thomas, the one standing, grimaced. "I really shouldn't take any chances."

Fabian ran both of his hands down his face, taking a deep breathe as he tried to calm down. "Chances of what?"

The bartender flicked his wrist wordlessly across his body. His hand moved so fast that Fabian barely realized that he was holding something in his hand. A wand. The bartender was holding...

Pain.

What was hurting?

Fabian struggled to breathe as he felt like he was swallowing water. It was only when he panicked and looked down that he realized his front was soaked in blood. Fabian's hand came to his neck, trying to stop the gushing flow of viscous liquid. He fell to one knee, struggling to breathe as dots swam in and out of his vision. It was like he drowning except he couldn't even muster the strength to take a breath. Fabian just kept swallowing blood.

As he collapsed onto his back, his hands still clutching at his neck, Fabian looked over at the bartender that was standing up. The pain was unlike anything he ever imagined, an anvil on his chest, slowly pushing down and squeezing the life out of him. He kept his eyes on the person that was standing above him as he silently begged him for help. An incredibly stupid question popped into his mind. Who is this man?

The bartender knelt down, watching him die as the smooth velvet of blood fell from his throat.

"Who am I? Well, I suppose that's the riddle, isn't it?"

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Update time: 2 days

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