6 October 1973, Saturday – Hogsmeade.
The weather was clear.
Three little lions, arms full of purchases, walked along companionably.
"Regulus is only in second year. How did he manage to come to Hogsmeade—does he know about the secret passage behind the humpbacked one-eyed witch?" James asked, glancing at Sirius.
"I never told him about it," Sirius replied with a shake of his head. "Hogwarts has more than just a few explorers like us. Regulus has his own sources."
"Damn."
With that, Sirius, Remus, and James—who was juggling an armful of goods from Zonko's Joke Shop—passed the post office on the main street. Owls flitted in and out above them, wings flapping noisily. The three boys then turned down a small lane beside the building.
Sirius frowned slightly, eyeing the weathered wooden sign above the next door, its iron bracket rusted through.
"Oi, is that a severed boar's head on the sign?" James asked cheerfully. "No wonder it's called the Hog's Head."
"This is where Regulus wanted to meet us?" Remus asked doubtfully, glancing at Sirius as the wooden sign overhead groaned in the breeze.
Judging by appearances, this place didn't exactly suit the refined image of a member of the Black family.
"Probably trying to keep things discreet," Sirius muttered, then pushed open the bar's grimy door.
The interior matched the exterior—everything from the ceiling to the floor, from the furniture to the glasses, looked dingy and filthy, rough and cheap.
The air stank of the acrid smoke from low-quality candles, and that scent still couldn't mask the overpowering reek of livestock lingering in the room.
Sirius wrinkled his nose but, out of politeness, didn't let it show on his face.
This bar was indeed—as Regulus had described—"very unusual, you'll definitely find it different."
That Regulus had somehow managed to find a way to praise this place made Sirius shake his head slightly as he turned his gaze towards the bar.
The barman behind the counter was watching them too.
In fact, the moment the three boys had entered, they'd attracted the attention of every wizard in the room—As if three tender little lambs had wandered into a masked pigsty.
Low profile? That simply wasn't possible with Sirius Black—his face practically emitted holy light; no matter where he went, he was always the centre of attention.
The barman was an ill-tempered-looking old man: tall and thin, his beard and hair hadn't completely greyed, still streaked with a golden hue that glowed faintly in the candlelight.
Sirius had the faint sense he'd seen him somewhere before.
What a handsome child. Is that the Black one? Why is he here? Aberforth Dumbledore stared for a moment, then withdrew his gaze.
"I'll have, er, three—no, four Butterbeers," Remus said as he stepped up to the bar. After a brief pause, he added just as Regulus had instructed, "We'll use our own cups."
The barman stared at him. For a moment, it seemed he might lose his temper. Sirius noticed the man's piercing blue eyes beneath the tangle of beard and hair.
He bent down and pulled out four very dubious-looking beer bottles, setting them on the counter.
"Eight silver Sickles," he said.
"I'll pay," James said quickly, handing over the silver coins.
The three young wizards, feeling very much like they had strayed into the Hog's Head Bar, obediently found a table by the wall and sat down. Remus took out four clean glass cups, and Sirius drew his wand, about to cast a Scouring Charm on the bottles.
"Ahem."The barkeep gave a loud, deliberate cough to draw attention. Almost everyone in the bar turned to look.
"Lads, no magic is allowed inside the Hog's Head Bar!" he said gruffly.
He wiped a glass with a filthy handkerchief (which, to Sirius, looked more like a scrap of rag), making his point unmistakable.
If magic isn't allowed, that would certainly explain why the place is so filthy, Sirius thought.
"Sorry," he said with an easy smile, putting his wand away.
Aberforth Dumbledore made no outward reaction, but inwardly, he found himself feeling a touch more favourable toward Sirius. He was aware of some of the goings-on at Hogwarts, and knew that his brother, Albus, had always been a bit wary of this particular boy. He also recognised Remus Lupin—after all, the rumours about the "Shrieking Shack" being haunted had started in the Hog's Head, thanks in part to Remus's cooperation.
Sirius unscrewed the rusty bottle caps, and together with his companions, poured the drinks into their cups. As they sipped, Sirius looked around the room.
"Why are they all covering their faces? Should we cover ours too?" James muttered under his breath.
"Too late," Sirius replied, leaning back in his chair, wearing his signature look of calm confidence.
"I feel like that person is watching us," Remus said, subtly gesturing in a direction with his hand.
James immediately turned his head, while Sirius acted as though nothing had happened, only glancing over casually a few moments later.
In the corner sat a tall, straight-backed figure wearing a mask and a clean black hood.
The only visible feature was a pair of grey eyes—which looked oddly familiar.
Sirius narrowed his eyes, about to take a closer look—
The bar door swung open, and a beam of warm autumn sunlight briefly cut through the smoky interior before being blocked by an enormous silhouette.
It was the gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, wearing his usual beaming smile.
Behind his massive frame stood a young wizard, face partially covered by a handkerchief. A faint smile played at the corners of his eyes—eyes that were unmistakably the same grey as Sirius's.
Aberforth Dumbledore, watching from the shadows, saw the two brothers embrace tightly and let out a quiet sigh.
…
After ordering drinks, five very conspicuous wizards—both in size and appearance—sat together.
There was no helping it. Sirius was too good-looking to blend in, Hagrid was as subtle as a small mountain, and Regulus, who had gone so far as to don a mask, only made himself look more suspicious.
Low-key? Did Regulus even consider being low-key?
Why bother?
Wearing a mask didn't mean he was trying to hide—it only meant he didn't want to openly break school rules.
They were already on Dumbledore's turf… and they even had Dumbledore's direct subordinate, Hagrid, sitting right beside them.
Everything's fine!＼(￣▽￣)／
"Hey, Regulus, what made you think of meeting here?" Sirius couldn't help but ask.
Did that even need to be said?
Coming to the Hog's Head Bar was, of course, part of a Harry Potter-themed tour!
This was where Snape had overheard Trelawney's prophecy, where Harry had held the first DA meeting, and where he'd returned to the Room of Requirement during the Battle of Hogwarts.
As a gamer tourist, how could he not come check it out?
Besides, who wouldn't want to see Dumbledore's own brother with their own eyes?
"This used to be the headquarters of the Goblin Rebellion," Regulus said with a smile. "I heard this bar has many magical secrets. I'm curious."
He lowered his voice and added, "Rumour has it the Hog's Head has a very mysterious connection to Hogwarts."
He deliberately emphasised the word Hog.
Aberforth Dumbledore, listening intently with his ears practically twitching, frowned slightly to himself: Who on earth is spreading these rumours?
"Today, I've arranged to meet our 'teacher' here," Regulus said, lifting the bottom of his mask to take a sip of Butterbeer. "He should be here by now, shouldn't he?"
Sirius suddenly caught on. He looked back towards the black-hooded figure from earlier.
The figure stood and strode towards them.
"Uncle Al." Regulus mouthed silently, eyes shining with excitement.
"You really should be more discreet when choosing your meeting places," Alphard said, pulling back his hood to reveal a strikingly handsome face. "Allow me to introduce myself to your friends—Alphard Black."