The End of One Life but the Beginning of Another.
5th of August was the date of my grandmothers funeral, it was held at her estate and had hundreds of people there; I think at least half didn't even know her. There was a sign standing at the gate that read "Sylvia Vates. May She Rest In Peace." It didn't feel real, I was placed next my parents yet I didn't even know there faces, they were strangers to me. Everything about that entire day was so surreal and it didn't hit me until I was in England.
I remember it being a nice funeral, with people saying a billion nice things about her, and giving their condolences to me, my parents, James and my extended family, as small as it was. I did speak to James at the funeral, or he at least tried to speak me, he asked how was my school, and I said good, he asked if I liked quidditch, I nodded, I believed he realised I wasn't going to speak, but now I wish I had, I wish I spent every available moment speaking to my brother for I'll never get the chance again, not in this lifetime.
I was asked to speak at the funeral, and looking back now I'm glad I did, even if I didn't make any sense. My speech went a little like this;
"My Grandmother was an amazing woman. I know that that sounds incredibly cliché, but she was. She raised me single handily since the age of seven and as a result I not only saw her as my grandmother but my mother as well. She was always there for me, she'd be my shoulder to cry on, the person I'd share anything and everything with, and she was also the person I would celebrate with. She was rock, she was everything I know… knew even. I will always miss you, Gran, and I will forever hold you in my heart."
I remember that at that age I didn't like crying in front of people, and I tried so hard not to that day but I couldn't help it. Today I'm just grateful I didn't break down entirely, that happen when I got to Potter Manor.
Her death wasn't a shock, she was old and sick but the huge change in my life after her death was, I think that's what made that time in my life so hard for me, the sudden and shocking change in direction my life took.
I had packed my things the day before the funeral, so I was ready to leave and start again, in a way, in England, the country I was born but yet was foreign to me. When I arrived at Potter Manor with my family they showed me to the room I had as child, it hadn't changed, I was given a six year olds bedroom, and expected to feel at home straight away. Potter Manor was beautiful in those days but to me, at that time, didn't feel at home, but did once and it did again but only when he came to stay, I never realised that it was him that made me feel at home then, a person I had only just met but someone I knew would be my everything one day.
I stayed lock in my room for the next 2 weeks, my meals being brought to me by the house elf, Masey, bless her sweet soul. She was the only one I ever let see me the way I was then. I was a complete wreck. I think most of the time Masey would just come up with snacks for me to see if I was ok. I had never really seen house elves in any kind of light before this, but Masey made me actually see, I saw her as a friend, a part of my family. I started seeing her kind as what they were, they were slaves but not in the common sense of the word, they wanted to tend to our every need and desire. James did try to get me out of my room. He said things like "You said you liked quidditch, didn't you? Why don't you come out and play? I see you watching." and "I have chocolate if you want some, but you're going to have to come out." and other sorts of things. I hadn't known he'd seen me watching. I'd spent some of my day just sitting by the window, watching him play quidditch, wishing I felt like playing to, but of course for those 2 weeks I couldn't make myself want to do anything.
My mother and father also tried, by saying they want to get to know me again. I wanted to get to know them to, but I just couldn't bring myself to, I had fallen so deeply and so very quickly into depression, and as I said before it was him the got my out, not only of my room but out of my depression. It still lingered around for at least 6 months maybe a year after the funeral but I learnt how to deal with it.
The only person, other than Masey, I talked to during those two weeks was Annie, by owl of course, I told her about the funeral and my new life, and my old become new family and she kept me filled in about things happening in France, with her family and with our friends. The only downer about France then was that her creepy, stalker brother, once my boyfriend, was obsessed with me. He never did understand that we were over until James spoke to him, but that's a story for later.
I spent my time looking out my window, not really watching anything but watching everything. I also spent it reading, listening to the wireless and thinking about where my new life was going to take me when I let it.
It was on the thirteenth day of my self inflicted confinement that James told me that his friend was coming to stay the next day so this was going to be the last time he would try to get me out and he was yet again meet with no reply, I wanted to tell him not to give up on me, that I would come out soon, but my words got stuck. I think that was the day I started to make my self want to come out, to get to know my family, and that's what I did, when he came to stay.