For Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry Assignment #1
Mythology Task 1: Write about a funeral from the POV of the deceased person.
Word count will be at end.
When he had first woken up, it was dark.
He couldn't hear or see anything. There was a cold breeze, chilly, that he couldn't feel. It smelled damp, like it had rained recently. It smelled of rainwater, of sycamore trees, of air.
He shelled his eyes when light hit him, causing him to flinch. He opened them back slowly when he heard murmuring voices, sniffles, the occasional sneeze, and coughing. He made his way forward, away from the inky darkness he had been in, and stepped out into grey.
It was cloudy, was what he noticed. The clouds looked dark and angry, causing the sky to look a dark grey. There was a breeze again, the same one he had felt moments earlier, and he watched as trees several yards away swung slowly. Figures in black shivered, pulling their jackets or sweaters more snug around himself.
The group moved by him, wearing black. He wondered what happened.
He walked up to s young looking woman, who he recognized to be Hermione Granger. "Hermione Granger?" he asked, reaching out to grasp her by the arm. "Can you tell me—"
He trailed off when his hand went through her arm, splitting apart before coming back together. He stared at his hand, horrified, then back to Hermione, who had shivered. He looked back down at his hand, then reached out again and watched as his hand passed through her arm again.
What was going on?
He saw Hermione shiver, causing the redhead next to her to frown and pull her closer. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she replied. "Just felt a chill."
The redhead nodded. The ginger turned to look over her head and then he saw the ginger's face. He stared, puzzled. That was Ron Weasley.
Then he had a thought. If Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were both here, then where was Harry?
He began to look around, moving forward to travel between the group. He looked at faces, looked at hair to try to find Harry's unmistakeable messy hair.
When he finally caught sight of Harry's hair, Harry was in the front of the whole group, standing near something. He made his way forward, excited, for he had found Harry and he wanted to see if the young man could see him.
He made it to the front,
He watched as all the other's gathered around, watched as Harry sniffed, rubbed his hands together to warm them up, then begin to speak. "Thank you everyone for coming here today," he heard Harry say. "It means a lot, it does. I'm grateful that all of you would come be here for him." He looked down at the Whatever was next to him, then continued on.
"I know he . . ."
He looked away from Harry and to what Harry was standing by, moving closer. It was a gravestone, granite, with words engraved on it. He squatted down to get a better look and read the words.
Remus John Lupin
A man who died for the ones he loved.
Underneath was his birthday and the date he died.
He stared at it, then looked up again as Harry paused his talking to sneeze. Harry continued, ". . . and I know he would have been surprised to see you all here. He's touched all our hearts and I hope he rests in peace wherever he is." He patted the gravestone, then moved away.
He watched as Harry moved over to Hermione and Ron, the two encompassing him in their arms. Harry started shaking, and he wondered if Harry was crying.
He stayed down in front of the gravestone as others began to talk; he listened to each person, listen to them sniffle, cry, and talk about how nice of a person he was. He listened as they trailed off and eventually just stood there, staring at the grave. He listened as they, one by one, left.
He continued to read the words engraved on the gravestone over and over.
He was dead.
He was dead.
He was dead.
[word count: 670]