Promise Keeper

The city was something he would never get used to.

The countryside was home for him. He grew up there and, now in adulthood, chose to reside there. Not even Hogwarts and the surrounding areas could be considered a city, and even when he attended as a student, he preferred staying on the immediate campus rather than going to town. The city brought noise and chaos. The countryside brought quiet and peace.

His brother was always the one made for bigger things. That’s just who Albus was. He was big in everything he did. He wanted the world to acknowledge him and was determined to leave his mark. Aberforth was fine with simpler things. He would have been content living on the family’s farm tending cattle for the rest of his life, but running a pub in the countryside also suited him fine. He never wanted to make any waves, he just wanted to live happily. For most of his life, he envisioned his future happiness with his little sister, Ariana.

No one could deny little Ariana was the apple of Aberforth’s eye.

The two were inseparable. While Albus was always off pioneering some radical new future for himself, Aberforth and Ariana were content with sitting on the hillside listening to the wind. Those were the happy days—when he and Albus could stand talking to each other for longer than a few minutes, when his parents were both alive and well, and when Ariana was free-spirited and carefree. They were all happy.

But life is nothing if not unpredictable, and as quickly as happiness is given, it can be taken away.

He hardly remembers that summer. The summer their lives changed forever. Ariana had only been a child then. A young, innocent little girl who knew nothing of the harsh world and was far too trusting. She didn’t know about the violence in muggle’s hearts, how they could lash out at things they didn’t understand. After all, their mother was born to muggles—and although they had never met their grandparents, considering how kind and understanding she was it could be reasonably inferred she had a good childhood. So she couldn’t have known what would happen to her.

He may not remember that summer well, but he remembers that day like it was yesterday.

Ariana, only six years old, never came home after playing in the hilly fields, even after it got dark. That’s when they knew something was wrong. Ariana hated the dark, especially outside. Despite her powers as a witch, she feared what she couldn’t see. The unknown of the darkness scared her.

Aberforth was supposed to be out playing with her that day, but his father needed help fixing the water pump and Albus had disappeared like he normally did, so Aberforth ended up staying behind to help him. Ariana wanted to head to the hills a ways away from their home, to play in an area their mother had fenced off with hedges and called her garden. It was Ariana’s favorite place. Or at least, it used to be—before that day.

Darkness fell, and she still wasn’t back. Everyone, even the sort of self-centered Albus, became concerned. Aberforth wanted to leave with his father to go look for her but was forbidden to. His father told him sternly to stay home with his brother and mother and that he would bring Ariana back himself when he found her. Aberforth remembers watching him leave through the window and disappear into the inky blackness of the night. He refused to leave the window until he saw for sure Father and Ariana were back. He desperately tried to convince himself that everything was okay, that perhaps Ariana simply fell asleep and lost track of time. The worst-case scenario was that she had gotten lost but was otherwise fine. She and Father would walk through that door, hand-in-hand, and Ariana would be a bit shaken, but would soon get over it and be back to her normal shenanigans with him.

But that was not what happened.

He heard his father before he saw him.

He was screaming, his voice wracked with pain and fear as he called out for help. His mother peaked her head out from the kitchen upon hearing his voice, her face blanching. Albus was upstairs, but no doubt he heard it too, as Aberforth could hear a chair scrape against the floor above his head as if someone had quickly gotten up. His mother was beside him at the window before he even realized it. Her hand was on his shoulder, gripping it as if she needed him to steady her. Somehow, before they even saw it, they knew.

His father appeared in the lamplight a few feet away. Upon seeing him, his mother swayed and Aberforth had to grab her to prevent her from nearly fainting. In their father's arms lay what must be a battered animal—bloody and bruised, lying limp and motionless. The only movement was the sway of its limbs as his father ran with it. His father’s face was stained with tears, and he looked desperate and disheveled. It took him a moment to realize the truth—the horrible truth. That was no animal in his father’s arms.

It was Ariana.

His mother screamed. A heart-wrenching and guttural scream as she nearly collapsed. Ariana was the baby of the family, and the only girl, so of course Aberforth wasn’t the only one attached to her. To this day, he never thinks he will hear a cry as awful as the one his mother let out at that moment.

His father rushed in through the door. Now Aberforth could see just how bad the situation was. Ariana was beaten beyond recognition. Her petite little face was covered in rapidly forming blue-black bruises and stained with both dried and fresh crimson blood. It was horrible. Aberforth could hardly imagine any living thing inflicting such cruelty onto another being, much less a sweet little girl like Ariana.

The moment he laid eyes on her, everything else slowed down. He saw Albus rush down the stairs, his mother run towards his father and sister, his father clutching his sister and rushing her to the dining room table—he saw all of it in slow motion. He remained frozen in his place by the window. The world seemed to suddenly be drained of all color. All colors expect the red of his sister’s blood as it dripped onto the floor.

He doesn’t remember what happened after that.

Ariana survived but was greatly wounded. They called a wizard doctor just to be safe, who did all he could to help the child. She had several broken bones and a concussion, but the doctor assured them that she would be fine after recovery, although recovery would be long. The doctor was right in the sense that her recovery was slow but wrong in the other aspect.

Ariana wasn’t fine.

The family would soon learn that the greatest wounds she received were the ones they couldn’t see.

She changed after that. Gone was the bright and bubbly girl, who her family often joked was the embodiment of sunshine. She was still a sweet little thing, but now she was more reserved and fearful. Every loud gust of wind and creak in the floorboard terrified her. She wouldn’t leave the house, and worst of all, she refused to use her magic.

The family wasn’t stupid, they knew what possibilities lay ahead should Ariana keep suppressing her magic. So they did everything they could to make her feel at ease, but it was hard since Ariana refused to speak about what happened, and their mother, now more than ever protective of her daughter, refused to let anyone pry. They just hoped that one day her scars would heal enough that she would feel comfortable using her magic once more.

That day never came.

It developed rather quickly, perhaps because Ariana wanted to escape her memories of the incident so badly. Within a few months, the Obscurus revealed itself. It was a devastating blow to the family, as an Obscurus was considered extremely dangerous due to its unpredictability. If anyone found out, Ariana would be taken away and locked up, and since she probably wouldn’t live past the age of 10, that would mean her final years would be spent in imprisonment away from her family. They refused to let that happen, so Ariana’s condition became a secret.

That night was the first time he ever saw his father get drunk.

The second time came a few weeks later.

That’s when their father figured out that it must have something to do with muggles. Despite the silence surrounding what had happened, their father was sharp. He knew all too well what some muggles were like, and there could be no other explanation as to why Ariana was so scared to use her magic to the point she would become an Obscurus. He also knew how close Aberforth and Ariana were, so he used his son to coax the truth out of her.

Aberforth can still remember the chills that ran down his spine when she told him what happened. How she had just been playing around in the garden when a group of muggle boys suddenly appeared on the other side of the hedge. She had been using her magic, and they had seen it. They forced their way through the hedge—the last barrier that protected Ariana—and grabbed her, demanding she repeat the “magic trick” they had seen her do. Of course, she couldn’t. She was only six. Six-year-old witches could hardly control their magic, much less do it on command. The initial “magic trick” that had sparked everything to begin with had merely been unintentional in and of itself.

When Ariana couldn't replicate what the boys had seen, fear took over, and fear turned people into monsters.

And soon, Aberforth would learn, so did anger.

His father did not initially react when he told him the story. His face was neutral like it always had been. But he swore he could hear a strain in the man’s voice when he told him to go and comfort his sister. He then went and drank himself into a stupor and passed out at the dining room table. Aberforth fell asleep next to his sister that night, clutching her in his arms as if he could shield her from all the bad things in the world. When he woke up early the next morning, the sky grey with only a little bit of morning light, his father was gone.

He would never see his father again.

Life was often made up of defining moments. Certain events would shape the rest of your life until the day you died. Ariana’s attack was definitely one of those moments. It changed everything forever, but the one thing it did was give Aberforth experience with dealing with Obscurus. That greatly helped him care for his son.

Aberforth stopped in his tracks, snapping back to reality. He wasn’t at his childhood home or his countryside pub, but in New York City, searching for yet another remnant of the past. Of his son’s past.

His son.

Aurelius, or Credence, had quickly become a special child to him. From the moment he was born, Aberforth loved him. But the odds were stacked against him. His parents were gone, and he found himself repeatedly butting heads with his older brother over his treatment of Ariana and association with Gellert Grindelwald, whom Aberforth did not hesitate to voice his dislike of. His brother was completely enamored with him though, and would have given him the world should he have offered. Unfortunately, Gellert seemed more interested in what Ariana could provide for the two of them, and Aberforth wouldn’t stand for it. There was just so much going on in his life, and he was so young and didn’t know how to handle it. That’s what led him to seek comfort in that girl’s arms, to begin with.

Selene von Brandt.

She was a muggle living in Godric’s Hollow around the same time as his family. Her parents and muggle older sister were some of the more understanding muggles he had ever met, and although they were unaware of the existence of magic, he had no doubt they wouldn’t cringe away from it should they be allowed to know it. He had seen her a few times since his family moved there, but she had been a shy and quiet thing, speaking less than even Ariana, so he hardly interacted with her.

It wasn’t until he was around 14—well into his schooling at Hogwarts—that he began to speak with her. It had started casually. He had been returning home from the store, with his bag holding a secret stash of Ariana’s favorite candies he had saved up to buy her hidden within when he spotted her near the street lamp. She was staring at the ground in what appeared to be sorrow. He saw a crumpled book in a puddle by her feet. He began to approach her, he couldn’t help himself. Her face reminded him so much of Ariana’s at times. He stopped close to her but didn’t know what to say, so he stayed silent. She didn’t acknowledge his presence, still staring at the book, but she knew he was there.

“That was my favorite,” she said in a barely whisper. “My grandma gave it to me before she died. It has a message from her on the inside cover. It meant more than the world to me and they knew that, yet they still did this. How can people be so cruel?” Her eyes held no tears, but her voice was still laced with pain.

Aberforth reasoned some of the neighborhood children had done this on purpose. He had seen them running around and occasionally taunting different children, although they knew better than to mess with the Dumbledores. He agreed with her. “Yes, people are so cruel. Some take utter joy in taking someone’s happiness and destroying it.” His thoughts flittered to Ariana. Her once joyful smile and her now painful tense one.

She turned to look at him, her eyes an enchantingly dark brown. He felt swallowed up in her gaze. She was the same age as him, yet in that moment seemed so much older and wiser. “Is that what happened with your sister?”

Aberforth stumbled back. Since moving to the Hollow, his mother kept his sister on a tight leash, never letting her leave the house. Most of the neighbors didn’t even know there was a third Dumbledore child. She must have seen the shock and confusion on his face, because she said, “I live right across the street from you. I’ve seen her in the window sometimes. She seems like a sad, broken child. Did someone steal her happiness away?”

His mouth hung open. He didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded and remained silent. She looked back at the book again. “Everyone’s happiness is different. I won’t ask what hers is, nor say in the face of hers that mine was lesser, but in the end, it’s all the same. People want to destroy it no matter what, whether because their jealous or resentful, and once it’s gone, there’s no getting it back.”

She then turned on her heels and retreated down the street. Aberforth stared after her, unmoving, his mind churning over her words. He looked down at the book again, before picking it up.

He arrived home shortly thereafter. His sister greeted him at the door as he entered as she always did. He snuck her the candies before retreating to his room. She looked after him with concern. He never usually went to his room so soon. He usually stayed a bit on the couch talking with Ariana or invited her to his room with him. He did neither this time, instead heading straight up and setting the book on his desk. He didn’t close his door, though—he wouldn’t be that heartless to his sister. He took out his wand and began sifting through his brain to find the spell he was looking for. Ariana peered from the doorway with curious eyes but said nothing.

He recalled the spell and chanted it, letting the magic flow from his wand. From the corner of his eyes, he saw flecks of black substance, like liquid feathers, flittering around Ariana. Even seeing magic triggered her, so he had to keep this brief before she fully lost control. He watched as light consumed the book, as torn pages restored themselves, and the dirt began to clear away. By the time he was finished, the book looked as good as new.

The next day, he walked across the street to her house and knocked on the door. Her sister opened it, and he asked for her. She came, that same monotone look on her face. He then presented her with the book. At first, her face remained the same. He could tell she thought it was a different copy of the same book, which was nice enough but not what she wanted. But then she opened up the cover and saw the message from her grandmother, clearing that it had been even before. Her eyes light up and shock too over her face. She now knew it was the same book, but didn’t know how he managed to fix it. She scanned his face. Whatever look he had must have warned against asking questions, because she didn’t.

She only smiled.

That’s really where things began.

Now here he was. It felt like the saga was at an end. By all accounts, it should have ended three months ago when his son died, but life once again had a way of surprising him.

He had heard all about his son’s life in New York City, living with that Barebone madwoman. It tore him apart to think that he suffered so much, but the young man never spoke of it. He offhandedly would talk about his life, but never in detail. Like Ariana, he supposed some things were thought better left unsaid. But one thing he did talk about a lot was his little sister, Modesty. It seems the two had been inseparable during their time in the Barebone home, and Aurelius’ thoughts were frequently by his lost little sister. He was worried sick about her since the last he saw she was all alone in an abandoned slum house. It ate him alive with guilt that he left her there, but he felt he had no choice. The Obscurus in him was going to be released, and he had hurt enough people already. Plus, he saw the way she looked at him.

She was terrified of him.

The guilt over what he put her through and his regret prevented him from ever seeking her out, but it did not stop him from wondering what became of her and worrying. She was the closest thing he had to family during those years, after all. To say that he wasn’t attached to her would be a lie. Aberforth could see that as clear as day.

It reminded him of him and Ariana.

He wishes his sister could have met his son, even if for a moment. But she had died the year before he was born. They hadn’t even learned Selene was pregnant yet when she passed. Which is why he couldn’t deny his son’s earnest request during his final days.

“I may never know what happened to Modesty,” he managed to choke out, as Aberforth sat next to his bedside, “But I at least want her to be happy, like I have been this past year.” Tears had filled Aberforth’s eyes when he heard that. It gave him such joy to know his son finally got to experience happiness and love before he died, but he couldn’t help but feel that it wasn’t enough. He never seemed to have enough time with those he loved.

His son blinked at him. “Father, could you promise me something?” He stopped for a moment to have a coughing fit before continuing, “I want you to find Modesty. Find out if she’s happy and well. If she is, give her my regards and tell her what became of me. If she is not, please….please promise me you’ll take her away and take care of her as you did me. She may be a muggle, but she is a kind child.”

Even so close to death, his son thought of others. It reminded him of Ariana when she…

No. He didn’t want to think of Ariana then and he wouldn’t think of her now. He realized he was standing frozen in the middle of the sidewalk and, gathering his thoughts, moved forward.

He promised his son he’d find out about Modesty, so he forced Albus to use his connections to find any promising information. Last he heard, Theseus Scamander was personally looking into it. Then, three months later, a letter arrived. A letter with a picture of a little girl with sad eyes in it. The girl matched the description Aurelius had given Modesty, although older, but that was to be expected. Modesty was eight the last time Aurelius had seen her, now she would be about fourteen. She had been placed in a city orphanage after what happened with Aurelius, and while her life certainly wasn’t bad, it wasn’t great either. He looked at the photo of the girl again. Her eyes certainly didn’t seem happy.

So, true to his word, he was going to step in from there. Although it wasn’t suggested, there were no laws stating that a wizard couldn’t adopt a muggle. If one considered it, it was really no different than a muggle-born wizard living with their parents, or a wizard marrying a muggle. It might be an adjustment for Modesty, but with time she’d be okay. Hopefully.

He ignored the fact that it would also be quite the adjustment for him.