Aberforth Persecuted

As Hogsmeade's most notorious unscrupulous merchant, Aberforth hated two things above all else.

The first was hearing anyone praise Dumbledore in front of him. It did not matter who said it or how—if someone merely remarked that Dumbledore's beard was white, Aberforth would quietly raise their drink bill by thirty percent.

As for anyone badmouthing Dumbledore... to be fair, although most of the people who came to the Hog's Head Inn were fearless sorts who skirted the edges of Wizarding Law, even they rarely dared speak ill of that headmaster so close to Hogwarts.

If there really was some reckless fool like that, a fifty percent increase ought to make them realize how dangerous it was... In short, Dumbledore's name was forbidden in the Hog's Head Inn.

Besides that, Aberforth also disliked people talking about his treasure: the goat behind the counter, constantly chewing on something at all hours.

If anyone set their sights on it, or drank too much and said something excessive without watching their mouth, they generally did not end well.

Over time, the Hog's Head Inn's regulars had more or less learned the owner's rules and did not deliberately provoke him.

But today, two brainless outsiders had come to the tavern.

"If you ask me, thigh meat ought to be roasted, with black pepper to cut the gaminess and bring out the flavor. Even Headmaster Dumbledore says so," said a young red-haired boy seated at the bar, his expression perfectly serious.

The middle-aged man beside him shook his head. "No, I still maintain that Dumbledore prefers it stewed."

The people nearby were left baffled by their words. Though the two merely seemed to be discussing ways of cooking ingredients, their occasional glances toward the corner of the bar made it fairly clear that the ingredient they