Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter...obviously.
Harry Potter's first thought was that his bum was hurting. His second thought was that his glasses had fallen off. Finally though, his third thought was the important one: What had just happened?
"You a'right boy?"
Harry looked at the owner of the raspy voice; he could make out a long, dirty-white beard.
"I—Yeah, my glasses—"
"These 'ya mean?"
Harry took a better look at the elder wizard. The same blue eyes, once another very similar wizard carried, the long white beard, shabby look, and a slightly younger frown.
"Any reason you're layin' down in front of my pub at this hour of the night?"
Had Aberforth not recognized him?
"Huh. Well, follow me in then boy; don't want a dead kid lying near my inn. This place already has a bad reputation as it is."
Harry followed Aberforth inside the pub. How could he not recognize him? And what had happened? Despite his murderous headache, Harry forced his memory.
It had been a normal day after all. He had woken up at the Burrow, spent some time with Ginny and then he, Ron and Hermione had gone to Hogsmead, still in a dreamy daze that the war was finally over. It had been three months and almost all of the Death Eaters had been caught, minus a few escapees who were giving the ministry quite a hard time.
Harry thought harder. They had visited George. He remembered they had helped him with the shop for a couple of hours, they'd even managed to get a smile out of him. They had been to Three Broomsticks. Then, then, then…They'd seen Malfoy. And?
He tried hard but to no avail. He couldn't go any further than that. Besides, something was buzzing.
"I'm askin' if you need a room boy! Merlin, these young people… Heads all up in the clouds."
"I—Thanks. A room would be nice."
"Follow me then."
The next morning Harry woke up with a headache. It took him a minute to take in his surroundings, another five minutes to digest everything that happened .He felt slightly better than last night and went downstairs to the pub to get some answers.
The pub looked pretty much the same as always except when he smiled at Ariana's portrait, the girl shot him an offended look and hid behind a tree.
"So you're up."
"Yeah. Good morning Ab." Said Harry; mentally slapping himself almost immediately.
Aberforth raised his eyebrows.
"Don't remember telling you my name last night."
"You, well, you did though."
"Huh. Don't call me Ab."
Harry felt that he wouldn't be able to get the answers he wanted from Aberforth for he clearly did not remember him. He had to find Ron and Hermione. Hermione would know why Ab was acting like this.
"Those blasted Death Eaters." Aberforth said looking at the Daily Prophet while pouring some coffee for Harry to a rather dirty mug.
"Giving the ministry a hard time aren't they?"
Aberforth's eyebrows shot up.
"The ministry? The ministry ain't doin' anything boy! I wouldn't be surprised if You-Know-Who became the Minister of Magic tomorrow!"
Harry chocked on his coffee.
"What? Voldemort?" He is dead, Harry wanted to say but felt it would be better if he didn't.
"Why so surprised? Don't tell me you've never heard of him."
"Could—could I take a look at that newspaper?"
Aberforth, shooting him an uneasy look, passed him the newspaper.
Harry felt his chest tighten.
September 10, 1978
"It's 1978!" He yelled out, not able to stop himself.
"You know boy, you're the weirdest bloke I've ever met."
But Harry wasn't listening to him. This couldn't be; it was impossible. What in the world was going on?
"I need to see Albus Dumbledore."
Aberforth's face hardened at his brother's name.
"Well, I ain't holdin' you here with chains and handcuffs, am I boy?"
Thanks to anyone who read! I'm actually quite excited about this since I've only written oneshots before. Please review and tell me if I should continue this. Any kind of advice would also be really amazing and would be very much appreciated. Thanks to all!