Twenty
The next day was the funeral. I wasn't ready for it at all, but deep down I don't think I would have been ready for it if it had been delayed a year. That night my uncle Lupus had shown us upstairs to our bedroom. I had been surprised that he hadn't put us in a separate room, but I didn't complain either. I woke up the next morning to a hand running itself up and down my back and Severus whispering "Acacia." He'd wait a couple of minutes and then whisper it again, louder. "Acacia."
I moaned loudly against the mattress. I did not want to wake up.
"Acacia, you need to wake up. It's time to wake up now. Come on." He was shaking me now. I didn't want to be shaken. I wanted to go back to sleep. And I let him know this by extending my left arm from underneath the warm cotton comforter and lifting my middle finger for him and the entire world to see. Judging by the exasperated sigh I heard from directly above me he was not impressed. I dropped by arm and curled it back up underneath me, expecting to be left alone for a while. Instead I got the covers ripped off me and I curled up in the fetal position, moaning in protest.
He leaned down and pulled the pillows off my head and I looked up at him, my brow furrowed and my lips pouting.
"Come on," he said sternly. "You wanted to go today and now it's time to get up and go. You're a strong woman. You can handle this." He offered me his hand from the side of the bed. "And I'll be right there beside you the whole time. I promise."
Well, when he put it that way. I slapped my hand into his and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I hunched over and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. This was going to be a long day. But I could smell sausage and french toast downstairs and that would certainly help get the ball rolling. Severus handed me a towel and pointed me toward the restroom that opened off our bedroom. I raised an eyebrow to him. He was pointing me toward my own bathroom? Judging by the look of him he'd already been there. His hair was wet and sleek and falling around his face in little ringlets. He smelled like my soap - coconuts and jasmine, but that familiar scent of cinnamon and sage was still lingering around him.
I took a quick shower, as quick as my three foot hair would allow, and dried off. I walked back into the bedroom planning to pick out a robe to wear to the funeral. I had brought three different sets of dress robes with me, unsure of which looked the best. When I walked into the bedroom Severus was sitting by the open window in a wooden rocker, the white sheers blowing around him, reading my Chuck Palahniuk book. I wasn't sure which one it was. He had laid out my black dress robes on the bed. I looked from him to the robes and back again.
"I always loved those robes on you," he told me without looking up from his book.
I furrowed my brow. "When have you ever seen me in those robes," I asked him, puzzled.
"You wore them to your first Christmas Ball at Hogwarts, two years ago. You were walking around the gardens, which I had been assigned to chaperone, alone. Dumbledore had decorated them with faeries and you had your hair up in a twist from which half of it fell out and down in ringlets. In that light -" He didn't finish. He didn't need to. "Those robes look the best on you."
I just stood there, floored. I didn't even remember my first Christmas Ball at Hogwarts, let alone seeing Snape there. How on earth could he have remembered that.
"Close your mouth. You'll catch a fly. And get dressed or we'll miss breakfast. I'm famished." All that without even glancing at me.
I dressed quickly, charmed my hair dry, and styled it. I put on a quick touch of make up, something I never did but which my mother was always begging me to do, and was finally ready. I stepped out of the bathroom to find Snape standing with his hands behind his back, waiting to inspect me. He looked me over once and smiled so slightly that the untrained eye wouldn't have been able to observe it. He opened his arms wide and I stepped into them. I hadn't realized it until I'd gotten it, but I'd needed that hug desperately.
We walked down the wooden stairs to find my entire family crammed into the kitchen, eating breakfast somberly. Normally breakfast was a convivial time, where everyone was talking animatedly and joking happily. Today even Amanda seemed tranquilized. I got Snape and I each a plate but when I sat down to eat I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just kind of moved my food around a little to make it look like I ate more than I did and then I tossed the rest of it in the trash.
Before any of us were ready it was time to go.
A witch or wizard's funeral is not like a muggle's funeral. For starters it's almost always held outside. Church is a thing almost unheard of to the wizarding world. We don't attribute a deity to spirituality. Spirit is magic and we worship it by practicing it righteously. The most obvious incarnation of spirit is nature and as such, events such as weddings, funerals, and when possible, births, are all held outdoors.
We all apparated to a graveyard about twenty minutes from the house, where all the members of the family were traditionally buried. Two coffins were set up above the graves and a very old wizard was standing at the head of them. A few of the other, farther removed members of the family were already there. We all stood around the coffins for a few moments, contemplating the events of the past few days in silence. A few more people I had never met showed up, most likely friends, and then the old wizard at the head of the coffins cleared his throat, commanding our attention. We gave it readily.
"The lives of Carla and Marcus McMathewes were cut short far too early," he began. Many of us nodded in assent. "There is nothing one can say to make the pain stop for those of us who loved them, or to right the wrong that has been done. But it is important to remember that no amount of grieving will bring them back." At this I felt Severus' hand on my back, as if he wanted to emphasis this point to me. I moved in closer to him. "We need to remember also that what we send out will come back to us threefold. Carla and Marcus were good people." He motioned toward me, then. "Their daughter, Acacia, is also a good person. We must all rest assured that whomever has caused this grief on their family will be dealt with accordingly. In this life or the next. We should not go seeking justice, for it will be dealt. What we should do is try to pass on the legacy of Carla and Marcus through ourselves and our actions. In our everyday lives let us emulate their goodness and steadfastness." My tears, which had started upon seeing their coffins, were flowing like little rivers down the continents of my cheeks now. Snape had his arm all the way around my shoulder and I was turned toward him, almost crying on his shoulder, but not quite. "Peace be with you all." And that was it. Like I said, wizard funerals aren't all woebegone like muggle funerals. The gravediggers appeared then and prepared to lower the coffins, and everyone stepped forward to toss a flower on the caskets. Myself, I tossed a white lily on each of their coffins before turning and walking away, Snape holding my left arm to steady me and me staring at the ground the whole way.
The next day was the funeral. I wasn't ready for it at all, but deep down I don't think I would have been ready for it if it had been delayed a year. That night my uncle Lupus had shown us upstairs to our bedroom. I had been surprised that he hadn't put us in a separate room, but I didn't complain either. I woke up the next morning to a hand running itself up and down my back and Severus whispering "Acacia." He'd wait a couple of minutes and then whisper it again, louder. "Acacia."
I moaned loudly against the mattress. I did not want to wake up.
"Acacia, you need to wake up. It's time to wake up now. Come on." He was shaking me now. I didn't want to be shaken. I wanted to go back to sleep. And I let him know this by extending my left arm from underneath the warm cotton comforter and lifting my middle finger for him and the entire world to see. Judging by the exasperated sigh I heard from directly above me he was not impressed. I dropped by arm and curled it back up underneath me, expecting to be left alone for a while. Instead I got the covers ripped off me and I curled up in the fetal position, moaning in protest.
He leaned down and pulled the pillows off my head and I looked up at him, my brow furrowed and my lips pouting.
"Come on," he said sternly. "You wanted to go today and now it's time to get up and go. You're a strong woman. You can handle this." He offered me his hand from the side of the bed. "And I'll be right there beside you the whole time. I promise."
Well, when he put it that way. I slapped my hand into his and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I hunched over and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. This was going to be a long day. But I could smell sausage and french toast downstairs and that would certainly help get the ball rolling. Severus handed me a towel and pointed me toward the restroom that opened off our bedroom. I raised an eyebrow to him. He was pointing me toward my own bathroom? Judging by the look of him he'd already been there. His hair was wet and sleek and falling around his face in little ringlets. He smelled like my soap - coconuts and jasmine, but that familiar scent of cinnamon and sage was still lingering around him.
I took a quick shower, as quick as my three foot hair would allow, and dried off. I walked back into the bedroom planning to pick out a robe to wear to the funeral. I had brought three different sets of dress robes with me, unsure of which looked the best. When I walked into the bedroom Severus was sitting by the open window in a wooden rocker, the white sheers blowing around him, reading my Chuck Palahniuk book. I wasn't sure which one it was. He had laid out my black dress robes on the bed. I looked from him to the robes and back again.
"I always loved those robes on you," he told me without looking up from his book.
I furrowed my brow. "When have you ever seen me in those robes," I asked him, puzzled.
"You wore them to your first Christmas Ball at Hogwarts, two years ago. You were walking around the gardens, which I had been assigned to chaperone, alone. Dumbledore had decorated them with faeries and you had your hair up in a twist from which half of it fell out and down in ringlets. In that light -" He didn't finish. He didn't need to. "Those robes look the best on you."
I just stood there, floored. I didn't even remember my first Christmas Ball at Hogwarts, let alone seeing Snape there. How on earth could he have remembered that.
"Close your mouth. You'll catch a fly. And get dressed or we'll miss breakfast. I'm famished." All that without even glancing at me.
I dressed quickly, charmed my hair dry, and styled it. I put on a quick touch of make up, something I never did but which my mother was always begging me to do, and was finally ready. I stepped out of the bathroom to find Snape standing with his hands behind his back, waiting to inspect me. He looked me over once and smiled so slightly that the untrained eye wouldn't have been able to observe it. He opened his arms wide and I stepped into them. I hadn't realized it until I'd gotten it, but I'd needed that hug desperately.
We walked down the wooden stairs to find my entire family crammed into the kitchen, eating breakfast somberly. Normally breakfast was a convivial time, where everyone was talking animatedly and joking happily. Today even Amanda seemed tranquilized. I got Snape and I each a plate but when I sat down to eat I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just kind of moved my food around a little to make it look like I ate more than I did and then I tossed the rest of it in the trash.
Before any of us were ready it was time to go.
A witch or wizard's funeral is not like a muggle's funeral. For starters it's almost always held outside. Church is a thing almost unheard of to the wizarding world. We don't attribute a deity to spirituality. Spirit is magic and we worship it by practicing it righteously. The most obvious incarnation of spirit is nature and as such, events such as weddings, funerals, and when possible, births, are all held outdoors.
We all apparated to a graveyard about twenty minutes from the house, where all the members of the family were traditionally buried. Two coffins were set up above the graves and a very old wizard was standing at the head of them. A few of the other, farther removed members of the family were already there. We all stood around the coffins for a few moments, contemplating the events of the past few days in silence. A few more people I had never met showed up, most likely friends, and then the old wizard at the head of the coffins cleared his throat, commanding our attention. We gave it readily.
"The lives of Carla and Marcus McMathewes were cut short far too early," he began. Many of us nodded in assent. "There is nothing one can say to make the pain stop for those of us who loved them, or to right the wrong that has been done. But it is important to remember that no amount of grieving will bring them back." At this I felt Severus' hand on my back, as if he wanted to emphasis this point to me. I moved in closer to him. "We need to remember also that what we send out will come back to us threefold. Carla and Marcus were good people." He motioned toward me, then. "Their daughter, Acacia, is also a good person. We must all rest assured that whomever has caused this grief on their family will be dealt with accordingly. In this life or the next. We should not go seeking justice, for it will be dealt. What we should do is try to pass on the legacy of Carla and Marcus through ourselves and our actions. In our everyday lives let us emulate their goodness and steadfastness." My tears, which had started upon seeing their coffins, were flowing like little rivers down the continents of my cheeks now. Snape had his arm all the way around my shoulder and I was turned toward him, almost crying on his shoulder, but not quite. "Peace be with you all." And that was it. Like I said, wizard funerals aren't all woebegone like muggle funerals. The gravediggers appeared then and prepared to lower the coffins, and everyone stepped forward to toss a flower on the caskets. Myself, I tossed a white lily on each of their coffins before turning and walking away, Snape holding my left arm to steady me and me staring at the ground the whole way.