72. Better at this.

Sirius' funeral was a quiet affair. He had few friends to call his own. And the Order was reluctant to attend in concern that such a large gathering of them would be perilous. Instead, most of the attendants to the funeral were those who wanted to support Harry.

Ambrosius was grave and mysterious. He had charmed the surrounding with a spell that played a melancholic song.

Andre's behavior and appearance were appropriately muted. A smile never graced his lips as he stared blankly at Sirius' grave. He had admitted to Harry to having shared some drinks with Sirius and had been hoping to paint the town red with him.

Alana's desire to attend had been a surprise. She had even shown up in the form of a human. She had brought sincere apologies from the nursing staff that had taken care of Sirius. Apparently, he had bonded quite well with the group.

Hedwig watched from her perch on a nearby tree. A couple of other owls had joined her as they paid their respects.

The Weasleys, Hermione, Dumbledore, and Lupin were each mourning their own way.

The greatest source of comfort was Teleute that never left his side throughout the funeral. She was garbed in a fine black dress that brushed against the ground and covered her neck and arms. A dark veil covered her features from view and rested her umbrella atop of her shoulder.

Throughout the procession, she would gently squeeze Harry's hand. It was a welcomed comfort despite his silence.

Time seemed to slip by him. Before he realize, the funeral had ended and most took their leave after saying their condolences. Ron and Hermione were especially reluctant to leave Harry's side, but the Weasley adults felt it was prudent that Harry received some privacy.

Following Ron and Hermione was Dumbledore, "I fear I must take my leave. I wish you well during these troubling times, Harry."

Harry nodded to him. A part of him was quite embarrassed about his little breakdown at Hogwarts. It was relieving that no further mention of that incident was ever brought up. As the man left, Harry frowned. There was foulness to the man that he hadn't paid much attention to previously. Perhaps it was a curse? Perhaps he had been recklessly experimenting with himself? Either way it seemed quite alarming and centered heavily in his hand.

He turned away from Dumbledore and faced Teleute, "Thank you for being here."

Teleute shook her head, "Of course."

If not for circumstances, he would've felt more touched than he did.

"I think you should rest," Teleute suggested as she guided him to a stone bench that was a ways off from the gravestone, but his eyes stayed firmly on it even as they sat.

She opened her umbrella and used it as a cover from the sun. The silence between them was solemn.

At last, Harry moved his gaze from the gravestone. His eyes lowered to his knuckles as he clenched his fist over and over again. "It's amazing how soothing you can be. I wish I could be like that."

Standing here in this grave, just like when she interacted with ghosts, highlighted a beautiful otherworldliness about her. While her expression through the veil was nothing less than sympathetic, what she saw in this grave was different from what everyone else saw. It was as though she had a fondness for every single individual buried here and was lost in a bit of nostalgia.

"Having you here feels so natural. Why is that?" He asked at last. The thought of her strolling through this place alone was not as alarming or odd as it should've been. It simply seemed the natural way of things.

Her reply was a gentle giggle that promised so much but told so little. It was a sound so sweet that it was frustratingly intoxicating. She questioned in kind, "Why do you feel so natural discovering new spells? Why are your eyes such a terrifyingly inviting green? Like you, it is simply who I am. But today is not at all about me. I think today shall solely be yours, my sweet wizard."

"There's somewhere I want to go," Harry admitted at last. His eyes were tired and resigned.

She smiled encouragingly, "Lead the way." Her hand took hold of his and awaited his movements.

He rose and stepped forwards as she followed. The area around them shifted harshly from that of the graveyard into that of a hospital hallway. It was the first time he had ever stepped foot in this particular hallway. Taking one final comforting squeeze, he removed his hand from Teleute's and walked to the door.

His hand gripped the knob and laid there. A reluctant grimace appeared on his features.

"Go on," he heard Teleute say behind him.

Steeling himself, he entered. The sight before him was tense. His relatives were crowding around their child. Petunia looked like she cried all the tears she could and had nothing left. Vernon appeared as though he hadn't had a decent amount of sleep for some time.

His cousin was almost unmoving on the bed. His features were pale and sweaty. A shudder would shake his body ever now and again.

When Harry entered the room, they glared at him as though he was the root of their pain. The pair began demanding answers to his arrival. No further attention was paid to them as he pushed them aside, his headdress ringing almost commandingly.

Harry stared at Dudley's unconscious face. In his mind he recalled the teasing and bullying and had difficulty feeling familial responsibility towards him. Raising his hand, he plunged it into Dudley's chest, to the surprise of the older Dursleys.

Within Dudley there was nothing but encompassing darkness. He was aware there was much to see but sight failed him. An instinctual part of him understood that he could not see for it was not his place. What he was doing was skirting a boundary of sorts and he was being allowed this privilege. Harry knew not if it was out of some fondness, familiarity or amusement, but he took advantage of it. Still, all he could observe was the magic power from the Dementor siphoning something away from Dudley. It was difficult to observe this something despite the dark radiance that came from the magic.

Reaching through the darkness was like shifting through quicksand. Pushing against the resistance, he latched onto the Dementor presence and pulled. His hand flew out of Dudley's chest as though it was repulsed, though it was a gentle push.

Harry struggled to catch his breath from the surprising amount of strain that he had accumulated in this venture. Before his very eyes, Dudley skin gained color and his breathing eased. The Dursleys were quick to push Harry aside and began hugging their son.

Harry watched the family for but a moment before crushing the Dementor essence and removing himself from their presence. He did not relax until he exited the room. "I don't feel any better. What was the point?"

Teleute softly poked his cheek, "The point was that you exercised mercy and had empathy. There is no love lost between you and your relatives. You had every reason to hate them. But after losing Sirius you better understood what they were going through."

He contemplated her words, "Was it the smart thing to do? I put all that effort in saving their son and they couldn't even be bothered to thank me. I at least thought I would have gotten satisfaction from helping somebody."

Teleute removed her veil and looked Harry in the eyes, "I don't know if I would've called this smart. You clearly despise them and might've not lost any sleep should Dudley expire, but I like to think you have greater inner strength than that. I'm pleased with your decision. You demonstrated a value that the Dursleys so sorely lack; kindness. It's a beautiful value to have." As she finished, she raised a gloved hand and gently caressed his cheek and smiled.

Where her fingers traced, his skin grew heated from embarrassment and pleasure from her praise. He returned her smile and whispered, "I know someone with a far more beautiful kindness."