Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: The White Tomb

No one spoke much during breakfast. They were all absorbed in their own thoughts as they ate. While Daphne had been to the funerals of her grandparents, this felt completely different.

Dumbledore had been known as the most powerful wizard in the world. His death had shocked nearly everyone, and unlike Daphne, her friends, and Dumbledore himself, other people hadn't even known it was coming.

Daphne's trunk had already been packed, and all that remained now was to attend the funeral. She glanced over at the Slytherin table, which seemed strangely subdued despite many of its students not caring that Dumbledore had died at all. Crabbe and Goyle sat together, but Malfoy, of course, wasn't there. Daphne wondered what they'd be talking about without Malfoy to guide them.

McGonagall got up from her place at the staff table — she'd left the Headmaster's chair empty, despite being entitled to sit in it now — and said, "It is nearly time. Please follow your Heads of House out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."

Daphne stayed with the Gryffindors as they walked out. This would be the last time, anyway, so there was no real reason to follow the rules. It wasn't like anyone would expel her now.

They walked in silence down to the lake, where hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows. At the front was a marble table. Half of the seats had already been filled, by what seemed like every single witch and wizard in magical Britain, and a great deal from foreign countries as well.

She spotted Mum and Dad halfway down one row, dressed in the same black robes she remembered from her grandparents' funerals, their expressions grim.

Daphne herself joined Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron at the end of a row beside the lake, and sat watching in silence as more and more seats filled up. She heard music coming from the lake, and looked over to see merpeople floating just beneath the surface, singing a haunting song that was every bit as mournful as Fawkes's lament had been.

Hagrid now walked slowly up the aisle, carrying Dumbledore's body in his arms, wrapped in purple velvet spangled with golden stars. Strangely, the sight did not shock Daphne as she had thought it might. She saw that Ginny and Hermione were crying, but her own eyes were quite dry. She'd done her crying last night. Right now…right now just wasn't the time for it.

She watched Hagrid place Dumbledore's body on the marble table, or tried to, at least, over the heads of the crowd that had assembled. Hagrid retreated down the aisle, still crying, taking his place next to Grawp, who seemed to have gained enough manners to understand he had to be quiet for the time being. Perhaps being moved to a cave in the hills near Hogsmeade had been good for him, which was apparently a place Dumbledore had found for him. It occurred to Daphne that she hadn't even asked Firenze if he'd been allowed back in the Forest yet. Well, there was no more time, now.

The merpeople stopped singing and came above the surface, and a small wizard got to his feet, stood in front of Dumbledore's body, and began to give a speech.

Daphne didn't really listen. She didn't know who this particular wizard was, and so it didn't matter to her what his thoughts on Dumbledore's life and achievements were. Had it been McGonagall, or Flitwick, or Sprout, or any of the other teachers, she would've been interested. Now, all she could hear were hollow words.

It wasn't, of course, as if she'd known Dumbledore very well. She'd spoken to him often enough, certainly far more often than most other students had, but she knew next to nothing about the man himself.

She was certain, however, that someone else's recollections wouldn't make her understand her old headmaster any better. Dumbledore had made sure she, Harry, and the others understood what they needed to understand. Everything else was immaterial.

In spite of all his flaws, he had certainly been a brilliant man and a highly gifted wizard. And, of course, he had been the only person Voldemort had ever feared. Had been the only person Grindelwald, Voldemort's predecessor as the most evil wizard in living memory, ever feared as well.

She glanced to her side, where Harry sat, looking just as absent and pensive as Daphne felt. Would Harry be able to match that reputation? Would Voldemort fear him as well? If it was up to her, he would. He would rue the day he targeted Harry, and Harry would bring him down. The image of the clearing came unbidden to her mind, but she pushed it away. Harry would not die. Voldemort would. As soon as they'd taken out his Horcruxes, he would pay for everything he had caused, all the lives he had ruined.

Daphne looked around. Anywhere was better than looking to the front, where the small wizard was still giving his eulogy. She saw the centaurs in the shade of the trees, their bows by their side. They, at least, seemed to listen to the speech.

Daphne wondered what Snape would've thought, had he been here. Dumbledore had been the reason he hadn't been thrown into Azkaban, the one who had kept everyone else off his back while he shamelessly favored his own House and spited everyone else. And now Snape had become the one to kill him, everyone's dark mutterings proven correct at long last…and his one true sacrifice possibly unknown forever. Strangely, she felt more sadness about that than she did for Dumbledore, because at least she knew that Dumbledore had been dying from the curse anyway.

The small wizard now took his seat again, and a few moments later bright, white flames erupted around the marble table, sending white smoke spiraling into the air.

She heard the whistle of many arrows being fired and saw the centaurs' salute gracefully arcing through the sky, landing far away from the crowd.

The centaurs turned around and faded back into the woods, while the merpeople sank beneath the surface and out of sight.

The sun now beat down on a gleaming tomb made of white marble, which had been formed out of the white fire. It was a fitting resting place for such a great wizard, Daphne had to admit.

For just a few moments more, the crowd sat in silence…and then people began to talk again, or rising to their feet to depart. Daphne herself was reluctant to get up, however, and she saw that her friends were feeling the same way. Soon, they would take the carriages back to the station, departing from Hogwarts for the last time, at least as students.

Their parents, as of yet, knew nothing about their mission. Not even Sirius was aware they'd be leaving Hogwarts to go on a mission, a mission which might well turn out to be a fool's errand. Because where could the Horcruxes even be? And without the sword, which they still hadn't gotten their hands on, how could they destroy them?

Harry stood up. "I'm going for a walk," he said.

His voice was flat, and Daphne knew he wanted to be alone for now, so she moved over one seat to sit next to Ginny instead.

She wasn't crying anymore, but looked after Harry with such sadness in her expression that it nearly made Daphne cry.

"He's got us," she said softly, as much to herself as to Ginny.

Ginny smiled ruefully. "Does he really? In the end…it has to be him, right? I…I can't imagine how that must feel." She scoffed and Daphne followed her gaze. Rufus Scrimgeour had caught up with Harry and was now walking alongside him. "Or how frustrating it must be to have someone from our useless Ministry stalking you for a public relations campaign, while they brought that toad here for the funeral after everything she did last year."

"Should we go to him?" Hermione asked worriedly, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Harry can handle Scrimgeour," Ron said.

"What are you going to tell your parents?" Daphne asked.

"I…I don't think you'd like to know," Hermione said evasively. "And I don't want to think about it. Not yet. Just…give me a bit of time, okay?"

Daphne wondered what Hermione had in mind, but she didn't press the issue for now.

"I think we'll just need to wing it," Ron said. "Mum will try to talk us out of it. She won't accept that we're leaving school."

"What about you?" Ginny asked.

"I'm going to tell them Dumbledore gave us a mission," Daphne replied.

"And they'll just…accept that?" Ginny asked.

Daphne nodded slowly. "They will. They know they can't stop me short of hexing me, and they won't do that. They'll understand. They won't like it, but they'll understand."

"We'll understand what, exactly?" Mum asked. She and Dad came walking up to Daphne and the others. "Or weren't you talking about us?"

"I was," Daphne said. She took a deep breath. She'd intended to tell Mum and Dad at home, but she might as well get it out of the way early. "We're dropping out of school to go on a mission Dumbledore gave us," she said. "We don't know how long it will take, but it's more important than getting good grades."

"All five of you are going?" Dad asked.

They all nodded. "Yes," Daphne said. "There's no way we're letting Harry do this alone."

Mum and Dad exchanged a look. "When?" Mum asked.

Daphne glanced at the others. "After Bill and Fleur's wedding, at least, so August first," Ron said. "Mum will kill us if we miss it."

Daphne turned back to her parents. "Well, there you have it."

"So you'll at least be home for a few more weeks, then?" Dad asked.

Daphne nodded slowly. "Yeah, I suppose? I mean, I'll probably head over to Ron's early for the wedding, assuming Harry's going there too, after his last visit to the Dursleys…"

"Alright, then…" Mum said. She seemed strangely agitated all of a sudden. Dad's smile seemed a bit strained, as well.

"You're afraid," Daphne said softly.

"Of course we are!" Mum said. "You can't just drop something like that on us and expect us to be completely fine with it!" She took a deep breath to steady herself. "Look, we'll…we'll talk about it when you get home, okay? And no, we're not going to try and talk you out of it. We raised you; we know how bloody stubborn you are."

Daphne grinned faintly in spite of herself. "Yeah…yeah, we'll talk when I get home tonight."

Mum and Dad turned around and began to walk away.

"That's going to be a difficult conversation, I think," Ginny said softly.

Daphne nodded slowly. "Probably, yes…"

She wondered what her parents planned on saying to her. She imagined it would be a long list of variations on 'be careful and stay safe'.

Before she could really think about it, though, Harry returned from his walk.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" Ron asked.

"Same thing he wanted at Christmas: that I become their poster boy and tell them what a great job they're doing," Harry said disgustedly.

"They really don't learn, do they?" Hermione asked coldly.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Once we're gone, the Ministry won't know where we are, either. I think we've learned concealment spells well enough during our Order meetings, especially since we can all Apparate now. Well, except for Ginny, but she can Side-Along Apparate with us."

"And the Trace?" Ginny asked.

"We'll need to find a solution for that, yes," Harry said. "But we've got a bit of time left before it's time to go." He turned to Daphne. "Can you look into that, maybe? You can probably do it with the least amount of questions asked…I'll ask Sirius as well."

Daphne nodded. "I'll see what I can find out," she said.

"Okay…then…let's get going," Harry said. "I don't know what'll happen, once we set out…but I do know that there's no one I'd rather be doing this with than the four of you, so…thank you. Thank you for coming with me despite how hard it's going to be. You're the best, all of you."

"Good to know we're being appreciated," Ron said dryly.

"It's true, though. We are the best," Ginny said. "Especially Daphne and me."

She grinned at Daphne, who grinned back.

"Hermione knows every book in the Hogwarts library by heart though, that makes her the best," Ron said.

Hermione blushed fiercely.

"Someone get me a bucket," Ginny said with a groan.

"How d'you think I feel when you start snogging two of my best mates in the hallways?" Ron countered.

"Well, you…"

Still sniping at each other, they made their way back up to the castle, from where they'd take the coaches to the station. Daphne just listened and smiled, and for just a few more moments, she pretended that everything was normal.

Short chapter, this one, I know, but this works out better for me. Originally, the funeral would've been part of the last chapter, but I didn't have enough time to write it. Tomorrow, then, year seven will begin. It'll likely be the year with the most departures from the book in terms of what happens on-page, but I haven't got it fully fleshed out yet, so we'll see how it goes.

Closing statements for this year: It's getting harder and harder, which is a bit of an issue given that I have no more buffer chapters stored and so I'm writing a chapter every single day. Where before I could get away with a lot of copy-paste action, this book's structure made that much harder, and next book will be entirely impossible to adapt in that particular way to begin with, meaning it'll be mostly…well, not original, but at least not copied directly, meaning I need to make things up out of whole cloth with very little time to think. Well, as long as I prevent the mess that was Game of Thrones Season Eight, I think I'll be fine…