The Other Dumbledore

(Harry Potter)

 The perspective of Aberforth Dumbledore- a brother

They called me barkeeper, gruff and cold,
A wand long silent, a tale left untold.
But war crept close on windless breath,
And even old goats should fight unjust death.

My brother’s shadow loomed too wide,
A hero's mask he wore with pride.
But I- behind a pub and glass-
Saw truth in cracks the years let pass.

I saw the children- eyes too wide-
Too young for war, yet too brave to hide.
The fear they carried, fierce and raw,
Lit something deep that long ago I saw.

I found my way past blood and flame,
Not for glory, not for fame.
But for the boy who bore the weight,
Of fate my brother helped create.

And as the tide began to turn,
With every scream, with every burn,
I thought of Ari-her silent cries,
How power played and innocence dies.

I fought that night for what I’d lost,
For little kids in a fight they hadn’t caused.
Losing the ones they loved to duels.
With which they had nothing to do.
Losing and suffering Because of someone else’s cruel,
With which they had nothing to do.
The little robes hit home harder than I’d thought,
So I decided to give my wand another shot.

My brother once helped win a war assumed lost,
A jewel, he was, for stopping what he caused.
And though we differed, through and through,
He'd paved a path that I walked too.

Many sought his guiding light,
But he was gone before the fight.
He left his plan in braver hands,
Without the map, without commands.

He walked away, as if so clean,
From all the wreckage he had caused and seen.
As always, dusted off the pain-
Then vanished, free of guilt or stain.

I’ll never wear his grand acclaim,
Nor hear them sing about my name.
But still, through fire, loss, and fray-
I loved our family. That’s more than he can say.

No portraits hung for men like me,
No tales in songs, no legacy.
But in that dawn, when silence grew,
I fought- for love, and what was true.