Facing the pile of parchment drafts, Aberforth Dumbledore asked warily, "What is this?"
"It isn't some strange secret, is it? The kind where, once I pick it up and take a look, I'll be forced to sign some magical contract with you?"
Albus Dumbledore laughed helplessly and shook his head. "Of course not... Have I ever used something like that on you before?"
Aberforth Dumbledore snorted. "You haven't used it on me because I know exactly what kind of person you are..."
"But I know someone... that foolish boy Newt, for instance, was tricked by you using a similar method. You can't deny that, can you?"
"Can I deny it?" Albus Dumbledore shrugged. "You said it yourself—you know exactly what kind of person I am..."
"Still, I suggest you take a look. These drafts contain some very interesting things. You know Wizet has been researching war magic, which means..."
"Wizet and his friends have discussed some interesting topics, and you were part of those discussions too. If you understand a little of what's in these drafts..."
"Then the next time Wizet talks about his magical discoveries, you won't be quite so surprised—or even worried sick for him. What do you think?"
"I need to worry sick over him?" Aberforth Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "He can research whatever he likes. What is there for me to worry about?"
He wore a disdainful smile, yet he still reached out and picked up the stack of parchment drafts. His raised eyebrow remained in place as he began reading.
Watching Aberforth Dumbledore's movements, Albus Dumbledore smiled without speaking and stroked his beard.
Aberforth Dumbledore immersed himself in the stack of parchment drafts, paying no attention to Albus Dumbledore's little gestures.
The contents of these parchment drafts were remarkably subversive, even giving Aberforth Dumbledore a