Aberforth looked at Hector. Not being much of a conversationalist, he didn't know what to do for a moment, and could only stare blankly back at him.
"Um, Grandfather, where am I sleeping tonight?"
Aberforth slapped his forehead hard. "Merlin's beard, how could I have forgotten about that."
He looked at Hector apologetically. "Child, sit for a moment while I go tidy up a room for you."
Displaying a surprising agility that belied his age, Aberforth hurried up to the second floor, and soon a clattering commotion drifted down from above.
Before long, Aberforth hurried back down, a thin layer of dust coating his clothes. He tucked his wand into his belt, rubbed his hands together, and forced an unnatural smile onto his fierce-looking face.
"Hector, let's go check out your room. Do you have any luggage?"
Hector shook his head and stood up.
"Right," Aberforth said, looking extremely awkward. He felt as though his limbs were bound, and the shrewd, capable tavern keeper had suddenly become all thumbs. He wanted to take Hector's hand, but worried his heavy grip might hurt the boy.
Sensing the old man's anxiety, Hector took the initiative and reached out his small hand.
"Grandfather, take me to see it."
Aberforth first grasped the small hand tightly, then relaxed his grip slightly for fear of hurting him. He led Hector upstairs, walked to the very end of the corridor, and stopped in front of an unusually large doorway.
Aberforth pushed the door open. "This is your room. It was done in a rush, so it only looks like this."
He scratched his head, looking into Hector's eyes with hopeful anticipation. Catching his meaning, Hector gave Aberforth a big hug.
Aberforth froze as if hit by a Body-Bind Curse, his entire body going rigid. Having no idea where to put his hands, he finally settled for gently patting Hector's head.
"Get some rest early, Hector. We'll head to Diagon Alley tomorrow morning," Aberforth said. "Grandfather will take you to buy some things."
For a ten-year-old body, all the tossing and turning tonight was still too exhausting. Hector obediently climbed into bed. "Where is Diagon Alley, Grandfather?"
"You'll find out tomorrow, Hector. For now, you should get a good night's sleep." Aberforth tucked him in and turned off the light.
"Good night, Hector."
"Good night, Grandfather."
Aberforth closed the door, and Hector quickly drifted off into a deep sleep.
***
The next day.
"Morning." Aberforth was wiping a glass behind the counter when he saw Hector rubbing his sleep-filled eyes as he came down from the second floor. Compared to yesterday, the tavern was noticeably much cleaner; the dusty windows were bright again, and the air smelled faintly of soapy water.
"Good morning, Grandfather." Hector sat down at the table, and Aberforth brought over breakfast, setting it down. Today, Aberforth had changed into a fresh set of clothes and trimmed his long-neglected beard. He looked much cleaner and more spirited than yesterday.
"Eat up, Hector," Aberforth said, sitting beside him. "We're going to Diagon Alley. You need to pick up a few outfits and buy some books." He seemed quite unaccustomed to his new image, continually straightening his collar.
"And of course, we have to get you a wand. Even though you aren't of age for school yet, I imagine you won't mind getting it a bit early, right, Hector?"
Hector shook his head and quickly finished his breakfast. He was still very curious about the legendary Diagon Alley.
Without wasting any time, Aberforth pulled out his wand and gave the table a gentle tap; the plates on it vanished instantly.
"No time to waste, Hector, we're setting off now." Aberforth opened the door, and Hector darted out first. Seeing the boy so full of energy, Aberforth smiled warmly.
He pulled the door shut, and Hector ran back over to ask, "Grandfather, how are we getting to Diagon Alley?"
"We're taking transport."
Aberforth raised his wand, and moments later, a bus came speeding wildly from the distance. It passed right through buildings without causing the slightest damage, coming to a halt in front of them with a screeching stop that practically flipped Isaac Newton's coffin and slapped him across the face.
A conductor in a shabby uniform stepped off, his eyes glued to his newspaper, completely indifferent to who had hailed the bus.
"Welcome to the Knight Bus, what is your destination?"
"The Leaky Cauldron," Aberforth replied.
Hearing his voice, the conductor lowered his newspaper and glanced over.
"Oh, it's you, Mr. Dumbledore. And this is..."
"My grandson, Hector Dumbledore."
"Ah, very nice to meet you, young Mr. Dumbledore." The conductor greeted Hector, who was standing behind Aberforth. "Hop on, time is Galleons."
Hector naturally knew of the Knight Bus's formidable reputation, and of course he couldn't refuse this mode of transport. Compared to Apparition, one had to admit the Knight Bus was at least a slightly gentler existence.
Wizards really did possess exceptionally durable constitutions—Apparition was an everyday affair, the Knight Bus was a travel essential, and even just going to the bank to withdraw some money meant enduring a baptism of roller-coaster thrills. If you had a weak heart, you would meet Merlin three or four times just spending a single day in the wizarding world.
The moment the door closed, Hector felt as though he were suspended in mid-air. Even though the bus had zero respect for Lord Newton, his own mortal flesh could not escape Newton's laws. Fortunately, Aberforth grabbed him just in time; otherwise, Hector would have slammed flat against the glass at the back of the bus.
Then Hector witnessed the Knight Bus weaving like a needle through the heavy morning rush-hour traffic, pulling off all sorts of defying-physics emergency stops and sharp turns, until the entire bus finally lifted right off the ground, soared over several small houses, and even went barreling straight through a wall, leaving Hector thoroughly baffled.
Seriously, buddy, if you have this kind of ability, why bother following the roads? You could just take the shortest path between two points and steamroll your way straight through. Why make me suffer with all these detours?
Yet it certainly was fast. Within mere minutes, the entire bus ground to a halt right outside the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Hector leaning against a wall and retching his guts out, while Aberforth looked on with a completely calm expression.
"Sorry about that, Hector. The family's Floo powder ran out and I haven't had a chance to buy more, so we had to take this." Aberforth scratched the back of his head and patted Hector on the back.
With great effort, Hector straightened up, took a few breaths of fresh air to slightly ease his intense nausea, and waved a hand at Aberforth.
"It's fine, Grandfather. Where are we going now?"
Aberforth pointed to the tavern in front of them.
"Right here. We enter Diagon Alley from this place."
He then took Hector's hand and led him into the tavern.
"Aberforth, long time no see. Such a rare visitor, what can I get you to drink?" Old Tom, standing behind the counter, greeted Aberforth as they walked in, before finally noticing Hector.
"And this is?"
"My grandson, Hector. Brought him here to pick up some things today."
"Ah, Merlin's beard, a young Dumbledore!" Old Tom looked Hector over carefully, his initial reaction being that this must be an exceptionally well-behaved child, and the smile on his face grew even gentler.
"You don't need me to show you the way, do you, Aberforth?"
Aberforth shook his head. "Be sure to come over for a drink when you have time—not for any particular reason, just to toast this young Mr. Dumbledore here."
"We'll talk about it when I have time." Aberforth glanced back at Hector, gesturing for him to follow. The two of them walked down the corridor and arrived in front of a brick wall.
Aberforth drew his wand and tapped the brick wall a few times. The entire wall registered the signal, then began receding backward like the tide.
"Hector, welcome to Diagon Alley."
The cobblestone pavement was smooth and neat, with medieval-style buildings standing shoulder to shoulder. Everything exuded a strong, ancient atmosphere, the most eye-catching of which was the crooked yet stubbornly standing building right in the middle of the street, bearing the sign: Gringotts.
Diagon Alley on a regular day was bustling and busy, the street filled with wizards coming and going. Aside from the fact that most people dressed rather strangely, it didn't look all the different from any other commercial street.
"Hogwarts term has been in session for a while now; when summer vacation rolls around, there will be even more people here." Aberforth led Hector to the entrance of a clothing shop first. Hector looked up to see the sign: Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
Madam Malkin hurried out, greeted Aberforth, and then her eyes fell upon Hector.
"Mr. Dumbledore, are you here to buy clothes?" Madam Malkin asked.
"Yes, for him." Catching the perplexed look in Madam Malkin's eyes, Aberforth explained, "This is my grandson, Hector. He'll be starting at Hogwarts next year, so I'm getting him some clothes ahead of time."
Madam Malkin was somewhat surprised. Wasn't the new term just getting started? Wasn't it a bit early to prepare now? Still, she didn't say much. A measuring tape automatically drifted over to measure Hector's stature.
"Mr. Dumbledore, would you like custom-made, or ready-made off the rack?"
"Let's take two ready-made sets for now. As for the school robes, there's no rush just yet, though we can go ahead and have one made," Aberforth said with the air of a man of means. Unable to get a word in edewise, Hector could only watch as Aberforth made the arrangements.
"No problem, that will be four Galleons in total. The custom-made robes will be sent over by owl. To the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, if I remember correctly, Mr. Dumbledore."
"That's right," Aberforth replied. He looked down at Hector. "You can go pick out a few things yourself first, whatever you like is fine." Aberforth scratched his head, reached into his pocket, and shoved a few Galleons into Hector's hands.
"Once you've picked your things out, you can wander around the street a bit and buy whatever catches your eye. I'll meet you at the wand shop." Aberforth patted Hector's shoulder. "I need to go buy some Floo powder. We're out of household cleaner too—haven't used that stuff in years."
"You'll be alright on your own, won't you?" Aberforth still looked a little worried.
Hector shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm not a little kid anymore."
Aberforth nodded, crouched down, and tightened the laces on Hector's shoes.
"Then... see you in a bit?"
"See you in a bit, Grandfather."