With spring arriving, the weather in the Scottish Highlands was at its most unpredictable.
The shower in Hogsmeade Village had only just stopped, and shallow puddles still lay in the cracks of the slightly uneven flagstone road.
Pedestrians did their best to avoid stepping in them, lest muddy water splatter their trouser legs.
Dumbledore was among those pedestrians, but he took long strides and paid no attention to the gaps between the stones. With every step, he seemed likely to kick up a spray of muddy water.
Yet the muddy water seemed alive. Rather than splashing onto his trouser legs, it spread outward and silently returned to the cracks.
This time, he did not circle around to the back entrance of the Hog's Head Inn. He pushed open the front door and walked straight in.
A gust of cold wind swept into the Hog's Head Inn with the opening door, immediately drawing Aberforth Dumbledore's attention.
Aberforth Dumbledore held a rag in one hand and a goblet in the other, casually wiping the already cloudy goblet with that filthy rag, as though his job was to ensure it could never be clean.
Feeling the cold wind rush at him, he looked up and discovered that the visitor was Dumbledore. His brow rose, and his hands paused. "Why you?"
He set down the rag and goblet just as Dumbledore reached the bar.
Seeing Dumbledore eyeing the pomegranate juice on the counter, he immediately reached out and pulled the barrel of juice close, moving as swiftly as an animal guarding its food before hiding it beneath the bar.
"What are you doing?" he asked warily, his tone unfriendly. "Don't get any ideas about the pomegranate juice. It isn't for you. I'm not giving you special treatment!"
"I'm a little hurt..." Dumbledore teased, the