I take a deep breath as I sit in front of the mirror, wrapped in the bath robe that was left by the door. The elves have been leaving me a lot of clothes, whether as a command from Marie or not, I don't know.

I stare at the reflection. I have never before felt so distant from the girl in the mirror. Her long, curly blonde hair shines naturally in the sunlight streaming through the window. But I know the pretty sheen has been produced by a glitter charm preformed by Lily Evans, who arrived this morning for the funeral.

Her eyes are wide and dark, framed with long, thick eyelashes, and they sparkle. But I know that they look so big because of the eyeliner May applied expertly to them. I know that the eyelashes are so black and defined because of the water-proof mascara on them.

Her skin is pale and stretched tight over the bones. I know it's pale because she wouldn't accept the foundation Maddie was offering. I know it's so translucent looking, like a ghost, because she was up all night, alone in the big bedroom she shared with a Tessie that had abandoned the room in favour of her mothers'. She stayed awake all night dreading today.

I know all this because I was there. All though I admit I had been kind of spacing out while everyone helped me with my make up. I've sent them away now. I told them I could do my hair myself. That was about forty minutes ago. Progress made: I now feel even worse about everything.

I blink and so does the girl in the mirror. I jump back, off the stool and then relax. That's what reflections do; they show us our bodies, the outside of everything. Sometimes I wish they'd show us the inside too.

There's a knock on the door and Lily sticks her head around. 'Oh, you're not ready. Do you want me to help you with your hair? I think if we plait some of it back it would look really-'

'No.' I hold up a hand and she stops coming towards me, her face uncertain. She bites her lip. 'I don't need you to help me. I need to talk to Tessie. Will you get her for me?' I ask.

'Tessie? She's getting ready with her mum. I'll get Jelly or-'

'No, I need Tessie. Please, Lily, tell her I need her-' I break off, holding my breath until I feel the sob die down.

She nods, worried. 'Ok, I'll tell her.' She leaves again. Before she closes the door I hear the murmur of many quiet voices and hurried footsteps up and down the hall, on the stairs. A door slams and someone calls, 'Sorry, sorry!'

I lie back on the bed, legs dangling off the side. I can't process that today is Saturday. The funeral is today. It's so surreal. Only four days ago we were opening presents and stuffing ourselves with turkey. Now I'm preparing to bury my best friend's dad. The mental image comes to my mind again and I can't stop the sob that claws its way out of my throat. The same one has been appearing in my mind all last night and this morning; Tessie and her mother standing beside the hole in the ground as Matt's brothers and mine and Maddie's dads fill it in. Everyone is crying loudly. The part that catches me every time is my lack of presence. It's like I'm looking at it from behind a wall, or through a window; like I'm not a part of it.

The door opens and Tessie pads in, clad in slippers and a robe like mine. She has a bundle of clothes in her arms, which she drops down onto her bed wearily.

'Take your pick. I'm wearing this.' She picks out a plain black dress and black pumps from the heap. She turns her back to me and pulls the dress over her head. It's a loose, satin-y material and comes to her knee. 'Where are my tights?' she mutters to herself. I get the feeling she doesn't know I wanted her.

'Did Lily find you?' I ask her as I begin to sort through the clothes. They're all dark colours, and mostly plain.

'I passed her in the hall on my way here. She asked me was I going to see you. I said yes. She said ok. Then I entered the room.' She shrugs as she digs through her large blue duffel bag.

'Oh, ok.' I spot something dark blue and straight away fire it across the room, as far away from me as possible. It lands on Tessie's shoulder and she quirks an eyebrow at it, then resumes her search for tights. 'Did my mom send you up with these clothes?' I ask. I had asked mum in a letter to bring some dark clothes because I hadn't packed anything suitable for, well, a funeral.

'She was going to bring them up herself, but I said I'd take them because I was coming to talk to you anyway,' she says from the bag. Her head has disappeared into it and her small bum sticks up in the air as she rummages. How strong an expanding spell did she use on that bag?

'What did you want me for?' I stand and hold a dark green dress up against me. 'What do you think of this?' She looks up and shakes her head, frowning.

'Not green.'

'Well, I'm not wearing blue,' I say moodily, throwing the green dress onto the 'no' pile.

'There's a pretty grey one there somewhere,' she says airily. 'Ah-ha!' She emerges from the bag with a pair of diamond patterned black tights and a silver hair band.

'I don't see a grey dress here,' I scowl. With a sigh she crawls over and picks through the pile, then her hand comes out with a dark charcoal grey dress that shimmers in the light. Her movements are shaky and clumsy; her lack of grace hints at her grief.

'You can wear it with my black ankle boots. Your combats are too scruffy,' she says, handing me the dress. I run my hand over the crisp material of the dress. It's the one I wore for Christmas last year. I'd forgotten I had it. It has thick straps and last time I wore it, it came below my knee. I'm sure it'll be shorter now.

'What did you want me for?' I ask again as I slip the dress over my head. It still fits, at least.

'I haven't seen you much the past couple of days…'

'And you wanted to catch up?' I say dryly.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. 'Not exactly. I just wanted to be around you. Steal some of your calm, maybe,' she jokes half-heartedly. I see that she half means it.

Trust me honey, the calm has left the building! I'm a nervous, grief-stricken wreck! I say nothing, instead pulling on my own black tights. I reach for her boots and slip my feet into them. They're freezing!

'Where did you leave these? In the fridge?' I complain.

'Outside the back door,' she admits apologetically.

'Tessie!'

'Maddie brought them in last night,' she says, as if that's some great comfort to me.

'Trying to give my toes frostbite,' I grumble, looking in the mirror. Great! The dark dress makes me look even whiter! If I ever become a vampire, I won't have a problem with the paleness! I won't miss my lovely sun-kissed skin, because I never had it to begin with! 'I'm taking it off!' I announce, dramatically pulling at it.

Tessie catches my struggling hands and pins them to my side. 'Leave it on,' she commands. 'It's nice,' she assures me. 'And do your hair! We have to go soon.'

I brush through my hair and then decide to plait the side fringe. I pin it back and ask Tessie to examine it. I ready myself for criticism.

'Do mine?' she asks, smiling.

!

'Amen.'

'Amen,' we all echo.

Dad and John step out from behind me and join Matt's brothers, Patrick, Neil and George, in lowering the coffin into the grave. Tessie and her mother are standing in front of us with Matt's sisters. They're crying and holding each other and offering tissues to Rebecca, who shakes her head and doesn't take her eyes from the coffin.

Tessie looks back at where I stand with Maddie and Jelly. She looks at me desperately. I free my hand from Jelly, who to clings to Maddie as a replacement. I go to Tessie, carefully avoiding the grave next to Matt's. She pulls her hand out of her Aunt Margret's and throws her arms around me. I hug her and turn my head away as they begin to throw the first shovels of dirt into the hole. Someone holds out a rose to Tessie to throw into the grave.

'Tessie, the rose,' I whisper.

'You do it,' she whispers back.

'Are you sure? You should-'

'I can't,' she whispers brokenly. She sobs and digs her fingers deeper into my shoulders.

'Ok.' I take the red rose from the woman and gently take Tessie's arms away from my neck. I squeeze her hand and then let go, moving closer to the edge of the hole. I stand next to Rebecca. Her lovely face lifts and her chocolate eyes, so like Tessie's, meet mine. She wraps an arm around my shoulders and we drop the roses at the same time.

I feel guilt stab me all over when I look back at Tessie- wrapped in Andrew's arms- and all I can think is

I shouldn't have thrown that rose. It wasn't my job.

!

Everyone is in the ballroom, eating and talking. This is the biggest funeral I've ever been to. Well, it's the only one, really, if you don't include Sir Cheddar, my pet mouse, who died when I was eleven. We buried him in a shoebox in the back garden. It was a quiet gathering. Two people attended the ceremony; Paul, the priest, and me, the mourner. Paul also dug and filled in the tiny hole and I made fairy cakes for afterwards. Well, ok, mom made them, but I stuck the smarties on top!

There has to be about two hundred people at this funeral! Many of them are from the ministry. Aurors, with stories of Matt's bravery. His family are here along with Rebecca's. Friends, old class-mates, everyone is packed into the room that once seemed huge to me. I am now finding it difficult to breathe with all the bodies.

I can't take it anymore! I weave through all the people, ducking under peoples elbows, dodging anyone I think will want to speak to me. I spot Tessie talking to an old lady with her mom. She's looking extremely tired.

I make it out the door, into the huge lobby of the Ashton manshion and see two people sitting on a step, halfway up the stairs. Paul and May are kissing passionately. Ugh, really! People could see them! And everyone knows public displays of affection are sickening! I look around to make sure no one is coming and then I get ready to break them apart. I'm bored, and I want to talk to someone. They'll have plenty for that later. I hear a distinctly male moan from the stairs and duck behind a pillar, mortified. I never wanted to hear my brother make that noise! And now I have, and I want to throw up!

'What you doing behind there?' I look up at the man, startled. He's come from the hall that stretches out in front of me. He's stocky and tall, wearing a dark green cloak. His eyes are yellowy and narrowed at me. His mousy hair is tied back, bits of it escaping. Brown stubble is on his jaws and chin.

'Nothing,' I say quickly.

'How long you been there?' he growls.

'Just a minute,' I tell him. He stares at me shrewdly before opening his mouth, revealing sharp yellow teeth.

'Greyback, there's nothing in there.' The man steps into the hall, and sees me backed up against the pillar, the man glaring at me. He fixes his cloak-black- and closes the door he came out of quietly. He's not as tall as the first man and has longer white hair.

'Who is this?' he asks, inspecting me. Closer up, I see he's not really a man at all, no older than twenty.

'Who are you? Why were you in John's study?' I demand.

'You idiot, Malfoy! He said not to be seen-'

'I know what he said,' the white haired man cuts across smoothly, coldly. He turns to me. 'I think I recognise you. Your father- is he Richard Summers?' the man asks in a calm, polite voice.

'Why are you interested? And why are gate-crashing a funeral?' I ask back stubbornly.

'Does she always answer questions with questions?' Whitey asks Mousy pleasantly.

'She must just not like you; she answered my questions just fine,' Mousy sneers.

'I'm sure,' Whitey mutters coldly.

'What will we do with her?' There's an air of unprofessionalism about these men, whoever they are. And they have me backed up against a pillar. I do not like this. Especially now that they're talking about doing stuff with me.

'Amy?'

Paul! Phew! 'Paul I'm-' Mousy clamps his hand over my mouth. With a look from Whitey, they both turn on the spot and disappear, leaving me alone behind the pillar before Paul appears.

Thanks to all who reviewed and plz do it again! I really need your opinions on the ending of this chapter. I'm not sure if I did it realistically. Let me know what you thought! xxxxx