Chapter 13:

Farewell, Sirius Black:

The moment just after waking always had the bliss that a sleep fogged blankness of the mind preceded any memories. Therefore, Harry lived a wonderful minute in which he simply enjoyed burying his head deeper in the fluffy pillow beneath him.

But this moment went by too fast as his consciousness left the deep, dreamless sleep for good. At once, memory came crashing back, effectively chasing away the previous good feeling.

Sleepily, Harry rubbed his eyes and sat up on the couch on which he had spent the night.

When he had entered Dumbledore's office a few hours ago, receiving another phial of the sleeping draught, Dumbledore had suggested spending the remainder of the night here. That way, he wouldn't have to deal with his fellow students in the morning, all of whom would surely still be talking about the party.

Again, Harry had been surprised that the Headmaster had known about that. But Dumbledore had told him that it had been no more than a guess from his part, since he knew about the Gryffindors and their less than good relation towards the Potions Master. The Headmaster had looked terribly sad as he said that, and Harry had all too willingly agreed to stay here. He was worrying about Dumbledore just as much as the old wizard seemed to worry about him. Again he silently cursed Snape. Why did this man have to bring so much sorrow to the people around him, even now as he was sitting in prison?

"You are awake?"

Harry turned his head and saw the Headmaster come from an adjoining room through a door disguised as a bookshelf, which had formerly lined the wall.

"Did you sleep well, my boy?"

Harry nodded mutely. Sleep was always good. At least if it helped in fleeing the memories and were deprived of nightmares.

The Headmaster pointed his wand at the covers and pillows and without an incantation, the sheets followed the movement of the wand, folding neatly in midair and gliding down into a wooden box that was standing in a corner.

"Adjacent to my bedroom, you will find a bathroom. You can refresh yourself there. Dobby has informed Hermione and Ron to meet us here for breakfast. Also, he has fetched fresh clothes from your room."

"Are we not going to the Great Hall?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Today is Saturday and most of the students will be going to Hogsmeade later on. As for us…."

He didn't finish the sentence but Harry understood anyway.

"Sirius' funeral," he whispered.

"Go and get washed up Harry. Ron and Hermione will be here shortly."

Half an hour later, Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting at a table heavily loaded down with food, which had been set up in the middle of Dumbledore's office. The house-elves had outdone themselves again in dishing up a real feast, but none of those present were mustering a proper appetite.

"Where is Remus Lupin, anyway?" Ron asked after a while.

"Yes. Doesn't he want to come too?" Hermione added.

Dumbledore had explained them earlier, for what reason he had summoned them to his office, but had left out the information as to why Harry had not spent the night in the dormitories. Yet none of the two were rude enough to question their friend about it, upon seeing his devastated face.

Dumbledore put his mug, on which he had nipped, slowly back down on the table and looked as if he would brace himself for a well-planned speech.

"You know that Sirius is still believed to be the killer he was told to be."

The three teenagers nodded but remained quiet.

"Nobody would want to have him buried in an official graveyard. No one wants to know that his relatives and loved ones lie buried next to a convinced killer and this is, unfortunately, what people are seeing in him. For the same reason, we can't bury him here in the school ground, as he would without doubt have liked. Even if we leave the concern and wishes of the students' parents out of consideration, the grave would not be secure of eventual vandalism. Or even worse, someone could retrieve Sirius' body and get him off school ground. This I can't and won't do to him."

"And what are you planning to do then? Just dig a hole somewhere and throw his body in like some kind of garbage?" Harry asked bitterly.

"Of course not, my boy. There is another possibility and this is the reason why Remus isn't here right now. He owns a small cottage in the woods in which Sirius had spent some time after school and lately, hid there quite often. He has liked that place and Remus and I have been thinking that Sirius, under those circumstances, would probably have chosen it for his final resting ground. Remus has brought him there before dawn and we will follow to say our good bye to Sirius and give him the last honour."

They materialized in the middle of a small clearing, just besides a wooden two story cottage.

Harry let go of the old newspaper Dumbledore had charmed into a portkey to bring them here.

"Come with me," the Headmaster said quietly. Without checking if the students followed his command, he started to walk around the cottage, heading into the forest, the three teenagers right at his heels.

They only walked for about five minutes until they reached another clearing, one that was considerably smaller than the one in which the cottage stood. Only a little light managed to penetrate the thick layers of branches and leafs and it reached the moss-grown ground in spotted patterns. Between some large rocks, which looked as if some giant had tossed them there carelessly, a small spring had build, running down like a silvery filament and being absorbed by the thick moss on the ground. To the left, at the boarder of the clearing, an old oak towered proudly like a silent guardian. It's moss and ivy covered trunk was so broad that not even two adult men could have reached their arms around it.

Two metres in front of this tree, Remus Lupin was squatted on the ground, facing away from them. When they approached, Harry saw that the werewolf was crouching at the foot end of a plain wooden casket, one hand absently laid on the rough wood. Just besides them, a long, deep hole was cleaving in the soil, big enough to house the coffin.

Again Harry felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes and bit his lower lip until it hurt.

"Remus?" Dumbledore asked softly.

The werewolf jerked around, pulled from his musings by the Headmaster's voice. As he saw them he smiled painfully. "So you're here at last."

Harry ignored him, going down on his knees besides the coffin. Gently he laid his hand upon the wood, right where his Godfather's chest would be. "Sirius," he whispered, his voice little more than a broken croak.

"When Sirius saw this spot for the first time he instantly fell in love with it," Remus softly explained. "He said that this place is pure and innocent and that here was one of the few places where he could forget Azkaban and feel truly free."

Harry looked up to his former professor. Lupin seemed quite controlled, if one took into consideration that with Sirius, the man had lost the last of his former friends.

The Marauders were no more.

Yet, Harry also knew that this was not the first time Remus was left alone by Sirius. Last time the werewolf had thought that his friend had betrayed James and Lily and killed Peter. Back then, he had been burying Sirius in a hole named Azkaban. Now he would bury him in a different hole. The tears had probably run dry long ago, leaving place to resignation.

Harry felt deep compassion with Remus Lupin. Beaten by life in every possible way, there was barely any room left for joy; only pain, solitude and sadness on different layers. After a while, the pain must develop into such an ever-present companion that it became a constancy in his life.

"He would have liked to be put to rest here, I'm sure," Hermione said, even though a traitorous sob let her voice break at the end of her sentence. Ron laid his hand comfortingly around her shoulders. "I'm sure he would," he agreed, but his voice too was forceless and he had his eyes filled with tears.

Harry's throat constricted, upon seeing their obvious distress; making breathing difficult. He turned back to the coffin. Sirius was in this impersonal thing and in a few minutes he would be lowered into the dark soil. Gone forever.

"Remus?" he asked painfully.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Could you please open the coffin one more time? I want to see Sirius' face when I say good bye."

The absence of an immediate reply made Harry look up. Remus was staring at him with a face full of shocked surprise. 'What the hell…' Harry thought suspiciously.

"Remus," Harry said, this time with more vehemence. "Open this coffin."

Remus threw a help-searching glance at Dumbledore before he lowered his head, evading Harry's eyes.

"Harry," Dumbledore now interjected, his voice hesitating and gentle. "Please don't ask this of us. Keep Sirius in your memories the way you knew him."

Those words however stirred Harry's anger. What was Lupin's and Dumbledore's strange attitude about? It was his bloody right to see his Godfather again if he wished to do so. Angrily he got to his feet, walking over to the Headmaster. "What the hell is going on here? Open that coffin. I want to see him. Why do you want to forbid it?"

"We don't want to forbid you to see him. It's just…"

"It's just, what?"

Dumbledore seemed quite upset and looked like he had to fight with his next words. But then he sighed acquiescent, as if he had taken the conclusion to tell Harry all the bad secrets of the world. "The two men you saw in front of the hospital wing; you know that they have been doing some tests on Sirius, right?"

Harry nodded brusquely. Of course he remembered those two men who had apparently submitted Sirius to all kind of hexes and were even said to have done a complete autopsy on him. Harry had just finished this though, when a terrible foreboding crashed upon him. He suddenly prayed that it wouldn't be what he feared the Headmaster would just be telling him.

"The hexes and curses the two ministry wizard have preformed on Sirius…" The headmaster hesitated, as if he would be searching for the right words. "What I want to say is; they did not care about any damage they may inflict to his body – his face…."

He didn't continue. It wasn't necessary either. Harry could now perfectly make his own picture as to why Remus and Dumbledore didn't want him to see Sirius again. The curses, which one could use to track deep sitting hexes and delusions and literally turned ones insides out, were not unforgivable because they were only practised on dead people, yet they were rarely used because first off, they didn't have any better effect than some, less violent hexes did and secondly, they only left a mutilated mass of flesh out of the former corpse.

Imaging this, Harry felt sick and had to fight the sudden urge to vomit. "Oh god, no. They can't do this. Sirius…Sirius does not deserve this."

He threw a pleading look at Dumbledore. "He has done nothing wrong. Haven't they punished him enough already?"

Harry knew that there was no fair answer to his question and he didn't expect one either. Dumbledore just answered his glance sadly. "You should all say your good byes now," he said softly.

Good byes? Harry didn't want to say good-bye. He wasn't ready yet. Say farewell once and for all and let Sirius go? He shook his head at this thought. Dumbledore sighed again, braced his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him to his side, facing the coffin.

He held his student close, as if he were hoping to lend him some of his own strength by the close contact.

Remus too stood and stepped aside the headmaster, his face as tight and sombre as Dumbledore's. The Headmaster nodded to Hermione and she stepped forwards, getting on her knees and laying her hand upon the coffin's surface, where Harry had had his just minutes ago.

"It has been an honour to know you and I wanted to apologize that we too suspected you in our third year. I wish there would have been more time to get to know one another. Please keep on guarding Harry from wherever you are now."

She stood again and exchanged her place with Ron, who encouragingly patted her shoulder as they crossed.

"I have never really thanked you for Pigwidgeon. Now it's too late. We live too much in the deem that we have all the time in the world. But we shouldn't think like this. Especially in the times we live in right now. I won't forget that again, Sirius. Unfortunately I can only thank you here anymore, at your grave and hoping that you can hear me somehow. Thank you for everything."

He too rose again, standing at Hermione's side.

Dumbledore briefly tightened his hold on Harry's shoulder, in an encouraging gesture. But Harry felt terrible. He felt sick and his legs barely supported his weight, while a thick knot had build in his throat and tears flew freely down his face. Still he managed to get to the coffin, kneeling down besides it. Gently, he brushed a leaf from the surface, which had fallen down from the great oak. He tried to get rid of the knot in his throat by swallowing. This only hurt more though and his vision started to blur in earnest through a curtain of tears. It took him a moment to gather enough strength to speak out the words that were flying around in his head, even if his voice sounded old and hoarse.

"Sirius. You will not have the chance to see Pettigrew arrested and you're not going to live to see your name cleared. Even though you have escaped Azkaban, you have never been really free. Always on the run. Hated and chased like a monster that you never were. Now you don't need to flee anymore. At last you're truly free and no one will ever hurt you again. But I swear to you here and now that your name will be cleared and your death avenged. If necessary I'll look to it personally. Your murderer will get his rightful punishment as well as Pettigrew. I hope sincerely that wherever you are now, you are happy. Farewell, Sirius Black. You have been the best godfather anyone could wish for."

Harry stayed sitting where he was. He had neither the will, nor the strength to move away from the coffin.

He looked up to the others. Ron and Hermione were both still silently crying and Lupin had his head lowered. Dumbledore however answered his look compassionately before he stepped forward too, closing his eyes deep in thoughts, smiling slightly. "I dare to think, old friend, you would never have expected for your death to have such an impact on the people around you. You have friends, Sirius. True friends and everybody who has true friends in life, is a blessed man." He had directed his words straight at the air in front of him, as if he'd expect Sirius' spirit to be just there.

Dumbledore opened his eyes again and pointed his wand at the wooden coffin, which started to levitate from under Harry's hand, shifting sideways and lowering itself slowly into the dark hole. It was gradually eaten from their sight by the blackness until it was gone completely in the depth of the hole under the tree. A murmured spell by Dumbledore, and the hole started to close itself, like a wound in the soil healing really fast. The edges crept together as soil, roots and moss shifted back into place until it looked as if there had never been a hole at all. Only a silvery looking, ten centimetre tall S.B. was engraved in the foot of the trunk, as single testimony for the grave under the roots.

T.B.C.

Okay people, in the second virtual drawer from the right, you'll find some virtual handkerchiefs. Now I would like to know, of course, if I have honoured Sirius enough by organizing a tear jerking funeral, or if the whole thing left you cold. If it did, then I can still blame the translation. (Practical:-P)