Acceptance Of The Dead

We must learn to accept,

The dead normally cannot be reborn.

The wizards have to learn the concept,

That the future may sometimes be forlorn.

A gust of strong wind nearly blew Skye off her perch in the tree, and she struggled to hold on. Why she was there, even she had partially forgotten. Just a week as an owl had totally exhausted her.

First it was the food. Owls usually eat frogs and rats. But not humans. She had to force the slimy creatures alive down her own throat, while wondering if she would ever find Peter-the-rat again. She could not bear the taste of them – who could? But in order to stay alive, she had to.

By pretending every one of them was Peter.

Next was the method of travel. Flying. Before then, she only flew for emergency purposes or under the full moon. Now, it was all the time. Her wing muscles were tired and used. And worst of all, she could no longer pull out her wand and use it.

For the first time in many years, Amurila was alone. No one was left to help her. James was dead. Lily was dead. Sirius was as good as dead. Peter – Wormtail – was a traitor. And Remus, Remus thought she was dead, like the rest of the wizarding world. When he was sent to Azkaban, Sirius let slip the fact that she was at Godric's Hollow when Voldemort attacked. Naturally, she was pronounced dead.

She missed her wand. She missed food fit for human consumption. She missed James. She missed Lily. She missed Sirius. She missed Remus. she missed everybody. But most of all, she missed her life. What would she not give to have herself back again?

And that was why she was perching on a tree on that stormy day, in danger of falling any second. To feel herself back in the wizarding world. To see a ray of hope in her bleak situation. Even though there was nothing cheerful about where she was. At the joint funeral of James, Lily, Peter. And herself.

She was attending her own funeral.

The caskets were brought out. James and Lily looked so peaceful, as though they were merely in a deep sleep. It broke Amurila's heart to see them like that, leaving behind their son parentless in his cruel relatives' home. But since she was not human, Skye could only sob mentally.

The guests started to trickle in. Among them, Skye spotted Peter's mother, wailing gently into a handkerchief. She felt a pang of sympathy for the poor woman, thinking that her own son, a Death Eater who faked his own death, was dead. The entire Order, at least those who were still alive, turned up. Among those thronging in, Remus Lupin plodded in.

Studying Remus carefully, Skye noticed fresh bruises on him, and dark shadows under his eyes. A shocking fact surfaced in her's mind as her keen eyes noticed all the injuries. It had been the full moon yesterday. And he could manage to attend the funeral today. How could I ever have thought he was the spy for Voldemort?

But another sight caught her eye. Two one-year-old boys were sitting side by side on a twin-seater stroller. One was rather obese, while the other – Harry – looked scrawny and underfed. And the couple pushing the stroller were the Dursleys She recognised Petunia, looking like a horse as always.

As Skye continued watching, astonished that they would actually turn up for the funeral, the fatter boy began shoving Harry. Evidently, he did not have enough space, due to his large size. Poor Harry was squeezed to one side, and when he retaliated, the man spoke up, "Harry, don't push Dudley. You have enough space."

Enough space? He's squashed! Skye bristled indignantly, ruffling her feathers. The injustice of the Dursleys proved even more that Harry should not be sent to their home. Why couldn't Remus take him? And the answer came back to her in another flash of anger. Because he's a werewolf.

The service continued around them, but Skye was in no mood to listen. She simply watched Harry throughout most of it. It was a pity Remus did not see Harry, or he would definitely have done something about it.

"… and we will remember them forever," the priest ended his speech and the coffins were lowered into the graves. Amurila breathed a sigh of relief. The monotonous tone had bored her like a long History of Magic lesson, and she was happy to get it over with.

The guests began filing down the aisles to the tombstones to pay their respects and take their leave. She wanted to go when everyone had gone. An owl acting like a human would be a dead giveaway – and she needed to be free to surveillance the area.

She was taking James's last words to heart, "Keep Harry safe." Remus, possibly unconsciously following her thinking, purposely waited to be the last.

Placing a white lily – the flower of death – upon James's coffin, Remus whispered, "Rest in peace, my friend, knowing you are avenged. I love you more than a best friend; you have been like a brother to me. Farewell."

"Lily, the flower of your namesake now rests upon you. May you rest in peace like James. I love you too, my sister. Farewell."

"Peter, even though you were always the slightly weaker boy in the Marauders, you stayed true towards us. Despite your outward appearance, you were brave enough to go after that spy, Black. And for that, I love you too. Farewell."

It was the last coffin. Skye had no need to strain her ears; her keen owl hearing could catch all of his words. She needed that, words of remembrance from one of her best friends, to survive the years that lay ahead.

"Amurila, you were the only girl in the original Marauders. Of course, when Lily was accepted, that was another matter. But from the moment I met you on the Hogwarts Express that day, I knew you were someone special. Just by the fact you were willing to help me in my times of need, I love you too. Farewell."

By then, all the other guests had gone. The tombstones were littered with white lilies. A swift gust of wind blew most of them down the hill. Watching the tokens of remembrance rolling down the slope, tears started welling up in Remus's eyes. He wiped them away quickly, more as a force of habit than an impatience for the sign of weakness.

If owls could cry, Skye would be howling with tears by then. But they could not. With a jab of his wand, Remus placed Permanent Sticking Charms on all of his flowers. The ghostly howl of the wind sounded as black clouds started gathering. A storm was approaching.

Skye fluttered down from her perch as the first raindrops fell. She landed on the graves of James and Lily in turn, silently delivering her message to them. Behind her, she could feel Remus's startled gaze on her.

"It can't be…" he mused, finally breaking the silence. A flash of lightning and clap of thunder accompanied his words.

Yes it can, Moony.

"No. you're just a snowy owl that looks like Skye. Ariel's dead. And nothing can reawaken the dead," Remus spoke, more to convince himself than to answer the owl's unspoken words.

Skye's steely stare unnerved him so much that he turned away, the rain splashing on his face. Both of them were getting soaked, but neither cared. "Farewell, my friends," Remus whispered before Disapparating with a 'pop', partially covered by the sound of rain. And with that 'pop', Skye's last hope of being recognised vanished like a bubble popping in the air.

You accept the dead, Remus. Will you accept the living?