A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. You know this already. Do I have to say it every freaking time I put up a chapter?
Chapter 4: A Cousin's Funeral
Her friend was still lying on the stairs, only now she was straightened out and covered with an extra blanket from the laundry room. Alana knelt down next to her cousin's shape and let a solitary tear fall from her eyes. It shimmered gold until it hit the blanket, where in was immediately soaked into the soft fabric.
"Oh Maggie." She whispered as she slowly lowered the blanket from her cousin's face. Another tear slid down her cheek and onto Maggie's face, where is glowed softly for a brief moment, then disappeared. "What am I going to do with you?" she closed her eyes and thought back to the funeral ceremonies at her home. She only remembered one, her grandmother's. She had only been about seven years old and didn't really understand what was happening. She did remember that her granddad had been killed during a battle for he was still very young for a man of his kind, barely past his prime. She recalled a ceremonial table, glass and dark iron, with symbols etched into both. Symbols of life, death, rest and purity. There was also a sword, the most important part of the ceremony. All the spells for cleansing the dead person's spirit, sending the spirit to its final resting place without stopping and the fires that consumed the body were channelled into the sword. After the funeral was over, the sword was a lasting memorial to the person and contained a small portion of the person's personality or their compassion. A part that would always remain with the family as a memorial and an instrument of protection, for the love of a person is a more powerful defence than any spell.
Alana slowly gathered her thoughts and all the necessary spells she would need to materialized the table, sword and everything else needed for Maggie's burial. She rose to her feet and headed straight for the courtyard between the north and south buildings that formed Whitehall's dormitories and classrooms.
In the courtyard, Alana found a shaded spot, under a large and ancient oak tree. there she stretched out her hands and concentrated hard on the funeral table she remembered from her youth. Within seconds, a large globe appeared in front of her, pulsating slightly as Alana's concentration wavered. Soon enough, the table stood directly where the globe had been just moments before. Its thick glass surface etched with hundreds of tiny symbols, painted over in silver, just how it had been ten years ago at Deaglan Lucas's funeral. The wrought iron bars wrapped around the edges of the glass and twisted around each other in intricate patterns all the way down to its feet, which were clawed, like a hawk's, and held a large sphere of jade each.
Alana did not stop to admire the piece, but continued on right away. She summoned a sword to her side, which was much easier than the table, because the details were less important. She rested the swords golden hilt against the tree and bolted back inside to fetch Maggie, who she lifted off the stairs as if she were a rag doll instead of a sixteen year old girl.
Back in the courtyard, Tonks and a few other people Alana had not met yet stood around the oak tree, studying the sword and table.
"Excuse me." Alana said shortly "Could you please move away so I can put her down and get on with the ceremony?"
"Oh, uh, yes. Sorry." Tonks replied, backing away from the tree, only to bump into the table and send it crashing to the floor.
"Tonks, why don't you go inside dear." a short, red haired woman said impatiently. "I'm sure this girl will want to be alone when she's doing the funeral." the man standing next to the woman, also with red hair, lifted the table back onto its feet.
"Hello!" he said when he was finished. "I hear you're the only one here to get away from the, uh, attackers." He wasn't sure if he should tell her they were wizards.
"Yes, I got away from the Deatheaters." Alana replied shortly. She really did not want to talk about it. She stormed passed the pair and place Maggie on the table as gently as she could manage.
"You knew what they were?" he asked, completely surprised. He wouldn't expect a young witch to go to a muggle school. "Are you a witch?"
Alana stopped aligning her cousin's body and looked down at her hands. She wasn't quite sure how to answer his question. To an extent, her answer was yes, but she was also much, much more than that.
"Yes, I'm a witch." She said, hoping he wouldn't ask her about a wand.
"What's the name of the school you go to?" Alana panicked when that question came up. She didn't know the name of any wizarding schools except for the one Dumbledore taught at. Of course this man would know the school, he was from Britain, any children he had would attend that school.
"Arthur, stop bothering the poor dear. She's had a very long night. I'm sure she doesn't want to be bothered by silly questions like where she goes to school." The woman stepped towards Alana gave he a small hug, which completely surprised the girl.
"I'm Molly Weasley." She said "And this is my husband Arthur. Do you need any help here or would you just like us to leave?"
"I'm Alana and I would appreciate it if you at least went inside but it would be nice if you would stay near by. I'm not exactly sure how to do this and knowing my luck, I'll burn myself or something." She wore a weak smile on her face, the kind that meant she felt stupid admitting how clumsy she was.
"Alright dear, we'll be in the sunroom if you get into any trouble." Molly the Alana another quick hug and hurried off with her husband.
"Do you think we should let her do this?" She whispered to Arthur "That sword looked awfully sharp and she's going to have fire too. I certainly wouldn't let any of our kids do anything like this."
"Of course the sword is sharp and don't worry about her." he wrapped a reassuring arm around her waist. "I'm sure she'll be fine. She seems like a very strong girl."
Alana watched the Weasleys walk out of the garden and disappear into the school building. She then turned back to the tree and grabbed the sword by its hilt. She studied the sword for a few brief moments, noticing that she had set a large sapphire into the pommel and the black scabbard engraved with silver vines, much like the ones covering the walls of the courtyard. Alana unsheathed the weapon and spun it around a few times, making her fighting arts lessons from home flood back into her mind.
After getting the feel of the sword, She held the blade point up, straight in front of her face. Once the sword was in position, she quieted her mind and brought forth the spells she would need for sending Maggie to her final rest, those meant to break all nine bonds that held a spirit to life and kept it from being swept away by the river of death. She channelled all the charms through her hands to the hilt of the sword and when she let the last one flow into the golden handle, she spoke a final word laced with power, which allowed the spells to travel to the blade.
The ancient magic shone like hot oil as it slid down the blade, wrapping it in a warm golden glow. As the very tip was enveloped in the light, Alana lowered the blade and turned to face Maggie.
"Margaret Turner, I bid you farewell. May the river of death take you swiftly beyond its final bend. Do not tarry, Do not stop, no matter what. Lest your spirit be recalled to life in a body not your own, for a half life of servitude to the necromancer that brought you back." Alana made up a final right, since she didn't know the real one. She remembered signing at her grandfather's funeral, but hopefully that wasn't a necessity.
She had to pause for a moment and gather her thoughts and strength. The next part was the place she was unsure of. She couldn't remember this part from anywhere. So with doubt all to forward in her mind, Alana lifted the sword high above her head, point facing down towards Maggie's chest. After a deep breath, she plunged the blade into her cousin and let loose all the spells contained within the metal.
Before Alana knew what was happening, the sword grew white hot in her hands and bound the skin to the hilt. A great flash of light burst from the sapphire and flung her into the upper branches of the oak tree as Maggie's body was cremated into a shimmering ash.
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley. She had glanced out the window just as the burst of bright light exploded from the sword and dashed out the door as soon as she saw Alana's limp body fly through the air.
"Poppy!" she shouted out for the nurse just as the branches supporting Alana snapped and dropped her to the ground. Mrs. Weasley had whipped out her wand but not in time to stop Alana, she slammed straight onto the grassy lawn . She rushed to the girl's side and eased her head onto her lap.
Alana's face was a wreck. The branched had cut her in a hundred different places and blood was streaming down her cheeks. She had deep purple bruises surrounding the gashes and her eyes, which were only partially closed, shone as red as the blood staining her skin.
Damn it! Mrs. Weasley thought in a panic. I knew something was going to go wrong. She was not as skilled at healing magic as Madame Pomfrey was and didn't want to chance messing it up and hurting Alana even more. Instead, she conjured a large cotton cloth and a bowl of water to clean the cuts and wipe the blood away.
A moment later, a grey haired woman scurried into the courtyard and knelt beside Mrs. Weasley and Alana's motionless form.
"What happened?!" She asked frantically, lifting Alana's arm to check her pulse.
"I'm not really sure." Mrs. Weasley responded, placing the blood soaked cloth back into the dish of equally blood stained water. "She flew up into the tree and the branches wouldn't support her so she fell. I didn't get to her fast enough to try to catch her."
Madame Pomfrey wasn't paying much attention. She was checking Alana for more cuts, any broken bones or signs of a concussion. Her face was bleeding again so the nurse picked up the cloth and gingerly started to clean away the fresh blood.
"We need to get her to a bed I think. It'll be easier for me to heal her. She's got a fractured wrist and a concussion besides the cuts and burns." she paused to examine Alana's red and blistered palms. "She'll probably have a few cracked ribs too and her shoulder is dislocated. Pretty lucky really, after falling from that high. She's lucky she didn't break her neck." She conjured a stretcher and eased Alana's limp body onto it. She levitated the stretcher threw the school and into the headmistress's old quarters. There, she healed all of Alana's cut and broken bones, but had no way to fix the concussion, so she left the girl to sleep and rejoined the others downstairs.
So what will happen to our new tortured soul? Pretty stupid ain't she? Please, somebody, review for me. You can flame me so much it makes hell look like the artic circle but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! That is all.