Post 61: Bealo...
Jade's cloak whipped out from behind her in the wind, her hair was blowing everywhere. She stood quietly beside Sirius and she felt his warm hand slide into hers.
Remus, who was standing beside Jade, had tears silently rolling down his cheeks and his shoulders shuddered every so often.
As Ophelia's body neared her tomb corridor, Jade closed her eyes, tried not to weep and sang loudly:
Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende
on Meduselde þæt she ma no wære
Bealo...
The door to her tomb closed, and everyone went up to it and threw violets at the doorstep.
It was a wizard's custom to, when dead, be buried above ground, in a small room that may be visited once a year by family and friends. There is no speaking at a Wizard's funeral when they died in a battle.
Jade's song, translated to English, says:
That she is nowhere anymore, for her necessary rest.
And she is the dearest kinsman.
Killing took her...
One by one people left the graveyard of witches and wizards, until only Remus, Jade, Sirius, Lily, James, and Peter were left.
"Come." Lily said, taking Remus through the arm.
"No." His voice was barely a whisper. "I can't"
Jade put her arm on his shoulder. "She would have wanted you to celebrate her life, and remember her always. Her spirit will travel to land of her ancestors. Come."
Arm in arm, the seven friends turned away from Ophelia's grave and walked down the small path leading to the thin black gates of the yard.
Post 62: Fae
"We have a member in the Order." Dumbledore said two days after Ophelia's funeral.
He motioned to a woman standing in the corner of the room they were all in, her face was hiden in the shadows. She stepped forward and Jade immediately realized why. The woman was tall and slendor, her hair was long, dark reddish-brown and curly. The thing that shocked everyone though, was her eyes. They were honey brown, but her pupils were slits like a cats, and when she opened her mouth, Jade noticed she had fangs.
"Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?" Dumbledore said cheerfully.
She looked at him like he was insane, but he nodded to her, so she did.
"My name is Fae Narchannen, in your language it means Spirit Broken. I was born in 1862, making me 141 years old. I'll be 142 in December. I prefer to sleep in the day than at night, I hate garlic, though don't believe those miths that garlic will kill me, I just hate the smell. Oh, my favourite sweet is the Blood-flavoured licorice from Honey-Dukes."
"Very nice." Dumbledore said. "Fae will be joining us in the rebel against Voldemort."
"How?" Jade asked.
"You tell me." Fae said, her eyes narrowing. "What ever needs to be done, I'll do. I can't die unless you shoot me with a silver bullet, and wizards donot own rifels, so no real harm can come to me."
"I know that!" Jade answered. "I mean, Voldemort has control over all dark creatures Grindewald created. How can you fight againt someone who has control over you?"
"He has not yet called me to him. Until he does, I must weaken him." Fae looked down at the ground. "Try to understand, once Voldemort is gone, we are able to die, so we're fighting against him as much as possible. Living forever may be great, but not when you can't sleep peacefully, or taste food. I'm always thirsty, hungry, and never happy. All I know is hate."
She smiled then. "Grindewald's greatest flaw. He made all of his creatures know only hate, but because of this, we hate him. He's gone now, thank you for that, Albus, but Voldemort somehow binded himself to Grindewald, and now he has our control, and I will be a slave once more."
Everyone was quiet.
"I'll kill myself before I do those deeds again. I already have the bullets bought."
Jade's cloak whipped out from behind her in the wind, her hair was blowing everywhere. She stood quietly beside Sirius and she felt his warm hand slide into hers.
Remus, who was standing beside Jade, had tears silently rolling down his cheeks and his shoulders shuddered every so often.
As Ophelia's body neared her tomb corridor, Jade closed her eyes, tried not to weep and sang loudly:
Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende
on Meduselde þæt she ma no wære
Bealo...
The door to her tomb closed, and everyone went up to it and threw violets at the doorstep.
It was a wizard's custom to, when dead, be buried above ground, in a small room that may be visited once a year by family and friends. There is no speaking at a Wizard's funeral when they died in a battle.
Jade's song, translated to English, says:
That she is nowhere anymore, for her necessary rest.
And she is the dearest kinsman.
Killing took her...
One by one people left the graveyard of witches and wizards, until only Remus, Jade, Sirius, Lily, James, and Peter were left.
"Come." Lily said, taking Remus through the arm.
"No." His voice was barely a whisper. "I can't"
Jade put her arm on his shoulder. "She would have wanted you to celebrate her life, and remember her always. Her spirit will travel to land of her ancestors. Come."
Arm in arm, the seven friends turned away from Ophelia's grave and walked down the small path leading to the thin black gates of the yard.
Post 62: Fae
"We have a member in the Order." Dumbledore said two days after Ophelia's funeral.
He motioned to a woman standing in the corner of the room they were all in, her face was hiden in the shadows. She stepped forward and Jade immediately realized why. The woman was tall and slendor, her hair was long, dark reddish-brown and curly. The thing that shocked everyone though, was her eyes. They were honey brown, but her pupils were slits like a cats, and when she opened her mouth, Jade noticed she had fangs.
"Why don't you tell us a little about yourself?" Dumbledore said cheerfully.
She looked at him like he was insane, but he nodded to her, so she did.
"My name is Fae Narchannen, in your language it means Spirit Broken. I was born in 1862, making me 141 years old. I'll be 142 in December. I prefer to sleep in the day than at night, I hate garlic, though don't believe those miths that garlic will kill me, I just hate the smell. Oh, my favourite sweet is the Blood-flavoured licorice from Honey-Dukes."
"Very nice." Dumbledore said. "Fae will be joining us in the rebel against Voldemort."
"How?" Jade asked.
"You tell me." Fae said, her eyes narrowing. "What ever needs to be done, I'll do. I can't die unless you shoot me with a silver bullet, and wizards donot own rifels, so no real harm can come to me."
"I know that!" Jade answered. "I mean, Voldemort has control over all dark creatures Grindewald created. How can you fight againt someone who has control over you?"
"He has not yet called me to him. Until he does, I must weaken him." Fae looked down at the ground. "Try to understand, once Voldemort is gone, we are able to die, so we're fighting against him as much as possible. Living forever may be great, but not when you can't sleep peacefully, or taste food. I'm always thirsty, hungry, and never happy. All I know is hate."
She smiled then. "Grindewald's greatest flaw. He made all of his creatures know only hate, but because of this, we hate him. He's gone now, thank you for that, Albus, but Voldemort somehow binded himself to Grindewald, and now he has our control, and I will be a slave once more."
Everyone was quiet.
"I'll kill myself before I do those deeds again. I already have the bullets bought."
