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If he had to say, facing an entire courtyard of drooling boar heads—occasionally rolling their eyes or snorting heavily—Anthony's heart held perhaps five parts confusion, five parts surprise, and the remaining seven parts embarrassment. Considering Sickles and Galleons conversion, base-seventeen wasn't anything new in the magical world. The embarrassment came from the person dressed as a waiter standing before him.
This person's gaze shuttled between Anthony and the empty barrel lid he'd pushed open, stared with mouth agape like a fish just out of water, and said nothing.
"Did you bring it? You fool, why's there been no movement?" A tall figure appeared by the door, glanced into the courtyard, and said, "Oh."
Anthony felt he must say something. He'd been here several times with Hagrid and remembered this filthy barkeep was the Hog's Head Inn's owner. Anthony guessed he couldn't crawl into his barrel in front of the pub owner and pretend to be a follower of Diogenes of Sinope.
"Uh, I'm very sorry," Anthony said. "I didn't expect to appear here either." He spoke truth. If he had to lead to some back kitchen courtyard, he'd rather find himself at The Leaky Cauldron, not this completely unfamiliar strange pub reeking of goats.
"I recognize you," the goat-smelling barkeep said. "You're the one who came with that big fellow, Hogwarts person."
Anthony nodded. "Henry Anthony, pleased to meet you... Though our meeting place this time is somewhat strange." The nearest pig head grunted loudly at him. Anthony moved his feet a bit to avoid its drool flowing onto his shoes.
The barkeep said gruffly, "So, Anthony, how'd you get in?"
"A simple answer is magic," Anthony said and pointed at the barrel beside him. "I was testing something at school, then opened a tunnel—no, I didn't intentionally dig here. This suddenly appearing tunnel exit seems more decided by the castle—out of curiosity I walked out and then found myself here."
The barkeep strode over, roughly grabbed the barrel and looked, and gazed into the pitch-black tunnel with no visible end. Most of his head buried inside, messy gray hair tangled behind.
"Well then, Hogwarts decided to dig a passage in my poor little pub," the barkeep said. Couldn't tell if he believed it.
"If you're willing, we can walk back and prove everything I said is true," Anthony said.
The barkeep shook his head. "No, absolutely not." He scrutinized Anthony with sharp eyes. "What do you do at Hogwarts? Defense Against the Dark Arts? I hadn't seen you before this school year."
He stared tightly at Anthony, sharp gaze as if to dissect Anthony and see straight to his soul's depths.
Anthony suddenly noticed the barkeep's blue eyes closely resembled Dumbledore's. He hadn't paid attention to this barkeep when coming with Hagrid before, perhaps because the barkeep didn't stare so sharply at his customers from behind filthy lenses then, just sat in the crowded pub wiping equally filthy glasses.
"I just started, teaching Muggle Studies to two years," Anthony answered.
"Ha, Muggles!" The barkeep laughed ambiguously. "You teach well, boy?" This sentence was basically casual chat tone. Anthony heard him mutter something like "I knew it."
He answered cautiously, "Probably not bad enough to be immediately fired."
"Albus never fires staff," the barkeep said and turned and roared at the waiter still standing there. "But I'm different! Enjoying listening, aren't you? How long have I said it—go change the sign, do I need to invite you!"
The other paled, reached out and grabbed a nearby pig head, gripped its tusks and hoisted it to the pub entrance. Anthony heard the pig head crash into the crowded bar counter, then a pained cry and several mumbled apologies.
The barkeep cursed lowly. "Temp worker... Soon as I'm back I'll replace him... Wait a moment, Professor." He strode out to supervise the waiter's work. "Be careful, or you'll be responsible for sticking the boar head on your own neck! Pig brain might work better than yours!" At the doorway, the barkeep suddenly turned back and asked Anthony, "Drink something?"
Anthony thought. "Mead, thank you." He'd heard Dumbledore praise this place's mead before, just Hagrid never suggested he order it. Hagrid was the type who liked strong liquor.
He handed payment to the barkeep and the other's expression improved considerably, soon returned with a glass.
The barkeep pried the bottle cap on a boar tusk. Golden liquid flowed along the tusk into the boar's mouth and that pig suddenly grunted loudly.
"I'm truly sorry," Anthony said and accepted the drink the barkeep handed over.
"Nothing, I often have uninvited guests here. You're quite polite among them," the barkeep poured himself a glass too. "The barrel idea's not bad, just poorly timed."
Then the waiter returned carrying an ashen-faced boar head. That pig head had a terrible temper and kept rolling its eyes at the barkeep. The barkeep kicked it.
"Why are there so many boar heads here?" Anthony asked. He almost thought he'd arrived at some dark wizard's strange evil magical ritual site.
"You don't think our sign's always the same pig?" the barkeep said. "They rotate shifts, naturally."
After circling the back courtyard, the barkeep said, "Nothing's missing. Go back, Muggle Studies professor."
Anthony hesitated whether to leave through the front door or directly return through the passage to the Room of Requirement and finally decided to return the same way. Under the barkeep's gaze he crawled back into the barrel, stuck out two eyes, and said goodbye to the staring barkeep. "Well then, see you."
"See you. But listen well—don't appear in my courtyard again, don't crawl out from strange places, Anthony. If you're here to drink, walk in the front door," the other said.
Anthony nodded and secretly vowed unless necessary, he'd never voluntarily step foot in this pub. Their mead was so sweet his throat felt coated with honey.
"I understand, thank you, um... sir," Anthony said. He still didn't know the other's name.
The barkeep sighed. "Dumbledore. Aberforth Dumbledore."
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