Severus and Harry watched the funereal procession pass. Men and women in mourning walked past them. They finally joined the crowd. Harry kept an eye on Nora, making sure she didn't disappear in the confusion.
They stood on the ancient field.
Neville cleared his throat. "I thank you all for coming here today. It's heartening to know so many people cared for my wife, especially in these moments of extreme sorrow. As many of you may know, her death was not a sudden one. Luna had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer seven months ago. Not even the Wizarding doctors could do anything about it. It attacked her brain and then her magic. In the end, Luna was unable to perform even the simplest of spells… not even an Accio or a Lumos. She babbled a lot by the end, too. A lot of what… of what she said… couldn't be understood." A half-muffled sob. Tears had been running down his cheeks two sentences into his speech, but he ploughed on despite his grief.
"But she was, up until the very end, cheerful and sunny as always. Loving, too. And, while she was still in her right mind – or whatever passed for her right mind – she ensured that Henry and I would be fine after her death. She was graceful until the end. Never angry, never upset, never frustrated. Never worried. She told me that she knew death would take her one day, and if that day was nearer than either of us had hoped, there was nothing she could do. She refused to taint the rest of her days on this earth with anger, sorrow and pain."
He bit his lip and tried to regain his composure. "Professor Snape… he made many potions for her, potions to ease the pain. She was pain-free until the end because of him, and I know that she is as grateful as I am that she did not suffer."
Harry squeezed Severus' arm. Few would be able to tell, but Harry knew that his prickly husband was saddened by Luna's death. He had spent many months brewing for her and come to respect her grace in the face of imminent death. Severus looked at Harry gratefully, placing his hand over Harry's. "Don't leave me," he whispered.
"Never," Harry whispered. "But don't you leave me, either."
Severus shook his head. "I won't."
"I can't tell you how much I'll miss her. How much we'll miss her. I asked her if she wanted us to say any last words of hers here, but she said no. She didn't want to make a 'final statement.' She asked me only to tell you, remember her however you will."
Harry glanced at his daughter. It was the first funeral she had ever attended. She was sobbing. He'd have a talk with her later.
The undertaker placed Luna's coffin in the ground. Neville and Henry threw the first clods of dirt onto her coffin, thus ending the funereal service.
Funereal – adj. 1. Of or pertaining to a funeral. 2. Suiting a funeral; solemn; dark; gloomy; mournful. Word of the Day, January 10, 2001)