Chapter Fourteen
And I Will Always Love You
The weather seemed to mirror the mournful mood that was rife in the air that morning. It was raining heavily, the water falling down mercilessly in droves. Emmy watched it beat against the window of her dorm room, her eyes dry and her spirits low. She hugged her knees comfortingly as she thought of the day to come.
She had been unable to sleep, so had whiled away the hours staring out of the window, watching the murky shadows dance in the rain outside. Lily, Aretha and Mary were sound asleep, probably dreaming sweet things. Emmy could only keep replaying what happened that day in her mind. It haunted her constantly – the hopeless look etched on her auntie's face would stay with her for the rest of her life.
The clock chimed faintly; she turned to look at it. The face was luminous in the darkness and declared to her that the time was half past six. She tipped her head back and groaned. She hadn't been able to cry since in her free lesson a few days before, when she had suddenly run away. All of her tears seemed to have gone away now. It was strange.
A faint scuffling sound alerted her to another's presence. She looked around to see a male form standing at the door in shadow. Subconsciously she backed up against the window, her pale arms still wrapped around her legs, warming herself in the cold window.
"Emmy... is that you?" he asked – she could quickly tell that it was Sirius. When he stepped further into the room, Emmy could see him a lot better as it was beginning to go light outside – so they were no longer in the blackness Emmy had been in all night, but deep grey.
She sniffed in response, and he took it as invitation to sit opposite her in the window sill. She didn't mind – Lily and the others showed no sign of stirring and it would soon be time for Mary to get up and go and find Claude.
"It'll be fine," he promised her, squeezing her arm comfortingly.
"It's not me I'm worried about, it's Caitlin," she confided quietly, glancing once more out of the window, the view obscured by the relentless rain.
"She'll be fine – she's with us," he reminded her, following her gaze and focussing his own eyes on the outside world.
"But I've been in a house with you these past few days, she hasn't!" Emmy persisted. "I had friends ready made... she didn't. She's had to make completely new ones."
"People have been friendly towards her and she seems to have made plenty of friends," Sirius answered.
"Yeah, she's had boys queuing up to be friends with her," Emmy smiled sadly.
"It's better than nothing," Sirius pointed out, "at least they'll be protective of her. And I saw her walking to one of her classes with Autumn Timmins, she's a nice girl."
"But unfortunate to have ended up with Peter as a Potions partner," Emmy spluttered.
"She did look better once the hair had grown back," Sirius laughed quietly. "See? She's coping fine. This weekend is going to be difficult for her – for the both of you – but she's going to be seeing Tom, right? And Tom will look after her."
"Tom looks after her from a billion miles away," Emmy added.
"He sure does. Now, do you want me to leave you in peace so you can get dressed? We're meeting Caitlin by the Ravenclaw tower in half an hour so she doesn't have to walk by herself," Sirius said. He quickly embraced her before leaving the room.
Finding herself comforted by Sirius' words, she quickly dressed herself in a blue skirt and a cream lace blouse – her aunt and uncle had written in their will that they didn't want anybody to be dressed in black at their funeral. It was too sombre a colour, apparently. Emmy ignored the part of her brain that was telling her it was a sombre occasion and picked up the bag she had packed the day before, containing her pyjamas and clothes for the next day.
When she exited the dorm and went down the stairs into the common room, she saw James and Sirius waiting for her, both dressed in suits – but not black. Sirius was wearing a suit of navy blue and James a deep green suit which made his hazel eyes look more green than brown.
"Would it be inappropriate of me to say you look nice?" James asked. Emmy shook her head, smiling meekly. "'Cause you do."
"Thanks," she murmured, "shall we go get Caitlin?"
Emmy dreaded to think what sort of state Caitlin would be in. Caitlin was always the more dramatic of the two, with a large, singing and dancing personality that lit up any room within seconds. Now she was slightly more reserved... and, though Emmy complained about some of her cousin's traits before, such as her exhibitionist tendencies and her overly flirtatious ways, she kind of missed them. She wanted Caitlin to be back to how she was before – independent, vivacious and playful. Maybe saying a proper goodbye to her parents would give her closure, and the freedom to regain her old personality, knowing her parents would still love her no matter what.
They walked silently through the corridors of Hogwarts, Emmy walking in the middle of the two boys, who towered over her comfortingly. Nobody else was up, and the sky outside was still a murky grey colour that seemed to poignantly echo the mood of the day. They followed the labyrinthine passages with ease, knowing exactly where to turn and where to carry on. Eventually, they found themselves by the Ravenclaw tower, being solemnly greeted by Caitlin, who, though she had dark circles under her eyes, she still looked radiant. It was also quite evident that she hadn't been crying – at all. Her face was dry and her olive eyes weren't red or puffy, just sad-looking.
"Are you ready?" Emmy asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Caitlin replied boldly, standing up and approaching them wilfully.
The silence continued; it covered the four teenagers like a blanket as they slowly meandered through the corridors, looking forward. They wandered down the staircases (taking special care not to fall off of a changing staircase – and, in Sirius and James' case, not to try and jump off the changing staircase and land on one six floors below in a moment of daring, as they had done frequently before) until they reached the Transfiguration courtyard, which they crossed to enter the stone hallway which led to Professor McGonagall's office, from which they were taking the portkey.
The moving portraits followed them with their eyes – a wizened man with jovial lilac hair and blue eyebrows, both of which were standing on end as if an explosion had taken place (his portrait label described him as Barnabus Stigg, Experimental Potioneer) waved at them cheerily as they passed and a young girl dressed in a champagne-coloured dress with a wreath of roses on top of her head, weaved into the golden ringlets which curled beatifically down to her shoulders, curtsied politely. She blushed as Sirius averted his eyes from staring ahead to give her a small smile – as though she was merely a portrait, she was technically a fifteen-year-old girl who was rather susceptible to any form of male attention. Her name was Arabella Kingston, and she had been the daughter of the legendary warlock explorer, Christophe Kingston, who was so protective of her that he shielded her from any male eyes until her fifteenth birthday, upon which she captivated the heart of every man present and then died because of the shock of it all.
Sirius smirked as they walked on, Arabella following him through the portraits, skipping happily and stopping suddenly if he looked round. He could even charm the portraits.
Professor McGonagall's office soon came into view – the door was flanked by flickering candles that cast an orange glow over the lightening corridor. James knocked and the door was quickly opened by McGonagall herself. Her lips curved into a sad smile as she ushered them in.
"Good morning," she said quietly as the teenagers assembled in.
"Morning Prof– Mum, Dad?" James gasped. Charlie and Dorea Potter got up from the velvet armchairs by the fire (not dissimilar to the ones in the Gryffindor common room) and smiled at their son – and the three other teenagers who were like their three other children.
"We thought we'd get the portkey with you," Charlie explained as Dorea hugged all of her brood lovingly, "so you didn't have to go by yourselves."
"It goes straight to the cemetery, my dear," Dorea whispered to Caitlin soothingly. She nodded and gave her a brief smile.
"It leaves in two minutes," Professor McGonagall informed them, gesturing to the cracked silver mirror that lay arbitrarily on top of a low bookshelf underneath the window.
"They'll be back tomorrow afternoon, Minerva," Charlie told the Head of Gryffindor House, and she nodded understandingly.
The mirror began to glow an ethereal shade of ice blue and the six people touched a finger to it. The felt the familiar but strange feeling of being pulled inwards, as if gravity was forcing them towards the mirror, and they were spinning uncomfortably. They felt weightless, as if they were flying... it didn't seem long before Charlie told them in an calm voice to let go of the mirror. They all did as they were told and felt as if they were freefalling, leaving earth and spinning into nothingness... but as they fell, the blurred pictures of the outside world came together and they could see the quaint graveyard, blooming flowers flourishing on random graves and the grass green as an emerald. They all stretched out their legs and finally felt the floor beneath their feet – they were now standing just outside of the graveyard where, in just an hour, Caitlin's parents, Emmy's aunt and uncle and Charlus and Dorea Potter's closest friends were to be buried.
It was going to be a long and hard day.
Caitlin didn't know why she wasn't crying. Her eyes felt completely dry as she stared at the wooden coffins either side of the hole dug into the ground, where her parents would soon be laid to rest. She had been crying for the past two weeks, but now ... it seemed that it had all stopped. That she could now cope.
"Caitlin, would you like to say a few words?"
She was suddenly snapped out of her reverie and she felt the eyes of all the people who had come to say goodbye to her mum and dad rest on her. Self-consciously, she nodded, and launched into what she wanted to say. This was important. She wanted to do her parents proud. She wanted them to know that she was proud of them and thought them the bravest people she knew – apart from Tom and Emmy, who just reacted so quickly on that day, and got her to safety. Emmy, who had struggled with the sight of what was going on inside the house, who coolly dragged her away and into Tom's garden. Tom, who had been her rock since what had happened. She wrote to him all the time, and he listened – or rather, read – and responded to her hopes and fears. He made her feel utterly complete.
"I haven't really prepared anything particular to say... but I know what I do want to say, if that makes sense," she said, shaking her head. The assembled people smiled solemnly.
"My parents, Steve and Gemma Piper, were the two most amazing people I ever knew. Even though they held such dark and dangerous jobs, they were always there for me, to teach me, to love me and to encourage me to reach for the stars and follow my dreams. You could say they were very special people. I want to share some stories with you, just quickly, to illustrate how special they actually were.
"They met at Hogwarts – they were both in Gryffindor, and both in opposing friendship groups that only spoke to each other if there was a prank war going on. They were the first to admit attraction and to start dating each other. I remember my mum telling me when I was about seven years old, after I asked her, what my dad did for the first Valentine's Day they shared together, when they were fifteen. She told me that he had taken her out to the lake at Hogwarts, sat under the oak tree with her, and presented her with his watch – which had stopped. She asked him why he was giving her a broken watch, of all things, and he replied, 'Time stopped the minute you said you loved me.' My mum wore his watch the rest of her life, and it was her wish that she was buried with it.
"One time, when I was probably five years old, and full of the flu, we realised that I had left my favourite picture book at our grandma's, bless her soul, when we had visited a fortnight previous her house in Australia. I was adamant the only thing that would make me better was that picture book – and my dad held my hand the whole time whilst my mum organised a portkey to my grandma's house so she could get my picture book.
"It was moments like these," Caitlin continued, her eyes still dry and her spirits strong, "that made me realise just how lucky I was to be their daughter and to have them as my parents. They were the two of the bravest people I know – the only other people who equate to them in bravery, who saved our lives the day my parents died, are my cousin Emmy, my closest friend Tom and Charlie and Dorea Potter. My parents didn't escape with their lives – but I know they are here with me, all the time, and I feel proud to have ever known them – and I will always, Mum, Dad; I will always love you." She positioned a long-stemmed rose on each of the coffins and nodded at Emmy.
"Now Emmanuelle would like to say something too," the priest said – and Emmy glanced at him irritably when he used her full name.
"As you may know," Emmy began, "my uncle Steve and auntie Gemma have looked after me since my parents died when I was five. They have treated me as their own daughter and I have wanted for nothing – they have showered me with the same love and attention they have shown to Caitlin and they hold a very special place in my heart. Firstly, because my uncle Steve always called me Emmy. Always. He corrected everybody for me whenever they called me Emmanuelle" – the priest reddened slightly as the mourners smiled – "and always told me his jokes. They were never very funny, but I found them funny, because it was he who told them to me – he was always funny and always made me feel better with his laughter.
"Secondly, because my auntie Gemma exhibited to me how to be a loving person and how to care for other people. That's what she did, and my uncle too. They cared for me and loved me. I feel honoured to be their niece – and I know that they will always, along with my own parents, be watching over me and Caitlin and looking out for us all of the time. Thank you, auntie Gemma and uncle Steve, for merely being there and loving me."
As Emmy and Caitlin finished, the grey clouds seemed to disappear and unleash the warm golden sunlight, the rays of which hit the coffins as they were lowered into the ground. Caitlin looked up to the sky – she knew. She knew that her parents were looking down on them now, and that the sun was because of them.