Everyone, that is, except Dumbledore. He wasn't happy; he was dead. And his funeral was soon. And I played a role in his death. Before Dumbledore, I had attended four funerals. The first was my mums, but I was young and scared, so I sat in the back and refused to look at the body. After all, it looked exactly the same as it had when she died, and I had been there. A few days after, I looked up to Severus and asked, "When does Mummy wake up?" The second was the first time I understood death, and it was the death of Cedric. My father knew his well enough to be invited, and I came along. Again, I sat in the back of the room and refused to see the body. It seemed too personal for someone like me to do. The last two had been one in the same: the body-less "burials" of my dad and Sirius.
"Get ready, Soph," said Tonks from my doorway the day of the funeral as I sat in my room at Dads house. "We should get going soon." I nodded, and, after a quick smile, she went off to do the same. Scanning my room for something appropriate to wear, I discovered something I had never seen before; a long, black dress with a wide, princess-like neckline, and the sleeves were long but open. Also on the coat-hanger was a black choker with a golden circle attached to the front with a large "S" on it. Below the gorgeous outfit was a pair of black heels that were maybe three inches high, perhaps four, and the straps wound up my ankles a little bit. Something in my gut told me to turn around, and there behind me was Dad.
"Sara loved that dress," said he, the look I was giving him telling him exactly what I wanted to know. "She left it here for Tonks to get eventually and then pass it down to you, but Tonks is taller than Sara was, so-.." Without a second of thought, I crossed the room and hugged him; I even kissed his cheek again. After I let go, Dad walked out so I could finish getting ready.
After changing into the beautiful dress that once was my mothers, I sat down at my vaniety stand to do my make-up and fix my hair. Eye-shadow, mascara, blush, and lipstick carefully lined my small face. Staring at the mirror, however, I just couldn't get my hair right. Pink? No, too exciting. Green? Too Slytherin-y. Red? Too Weasley-y. Eventually, I closed my eyes and just let my hair change by itself. Whatever it was when I opened my eyes, I would go with. When I opened my eyes, my hair was short, framing my face. It had become a pale pink with just enough color to show who it was. Carefully, I stood up and exited the room, going to the living room where Dad and Tonks were waiting. Tonks gave me a nod, and then three of us were off.
Once we were once again on school grounds, I couldn't help but look around to see who was there. Practically all the witches and wizards in England had come to pay their final respects. The Minister of Magic was even in attendance. Glancing around, I saw familiar faces everywhere. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry sat up in the front row. However, Tonks, Dad, and I found ourselves seats closer to the middle. Dolores Umbridge was here, and just seeing her face made my smile fade. Instictively, I grabbed the back of my left hand with my right, the words I'd proudly written still scarred into my skin: "Screw You, Umbridge!" I saw all the Wealsey, all but the one I was really looking for. Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt had come, along with the members of my and Tonks's favorite band, the Weird Sisters. As I was glancing everywhere in front of me and to the left where Dad and Tonks sat holding hands, I didn't even notice as the empty seat to my right was filled. The person to my right tapped my shoulder, and I turned to find Percy sitting next to me. On his other side was the Minister of Magic. Quick so as not to let Dad, Tonks, or anyone else would see, I reached over and hugged him. A smile spread across my lips as his hand grasped mine, and we let them hang in between our chairs below for no one to view. Just then, the service began, and I remembered I was at a funeral. The body became enflamed, and tears blurred my vision for the rest of the service as many great people cried out for the loss of the great man, Albus Dumbledore. And I - I cried out, like all the others, but I was not among the great.