Twenty-seven: Funerals of the new year
Charlie's burial was a closed casket service. She hadn't wanted to know the details, she'd told herself. And still she hadn't been able to stop herself from lingering in the hallway when Moody talked to Dad alone and used words like 'mauled' and 'Fenrir Greyback'.
It was a private affair, restricted to family and Order members. The snow had stopped falling by then and had been erased by the sun of the new year. It left only a barren ground for her four brothers to carry a shining black coffin to the cemetery. Not Godric's Hollow this time. Ottery St Catchpole's cemetery, where Weasleys had been buried for centuries, and where the war had already seen Cedric Diggory interred.
They all gathered around the coffin, shuffling closer as if physical proximity could somehow make it less awful. Ginny stood next to Mum and didn't let go of her hand, squeezing it every ten seconds just to make sure she was still there. Still alive. Fred and George stood so close they almost seemed like the one person they so often appeared to be to other people. Percy was crying softly, accepting a handkerchief from Dad without further comment. And Bill stood at the front with Fleur next to him.
He told them about growing up with Charlie in a tremulous voice that somehow still carried all the way across the cemetery. About the brother he'd been closest to in age and had seen evolve from child to man, though his eyes still lit up the same way whenever he saw a dragon no matter what age. Quiet, reliable Charlie who had never hesitated when asked for help, including when Dumbledore had come knocking. Brave, tireless Charlie who had fought the war as vigorously as anyone.
After Bill, Dad took the word. His speech was more halting and he was robbed of his voice by grief twice. But still he pressed on and shared the miracle that had been their second child, the one most with his head in the clouds literally and figuratively, until the world demanded he had come down. And now, that was where he would remain. But they would remember him, in the little things in life. That one hill he'd crashed into during a particularly daring Seeker dive. The first day of Spring that always saw him running through the garden, no matter the weather. Every dragon they'd ever see. Charlie would never leave them.
Each of them tossed a white rose on the coffin before they committed Charlie to the earth. Through it all, Ginny felt numb. It seemed impossible that Charlie was gone too. Somehow, she thought that after Ron, that would be it. That they had already paid the price of war. Now, she couldn't help but wonder if they would ever stop paying it.
Scrimgeour was waiting for them at the gates. At least he had shown the courtesy of leaving his escort a bit further away, though they watched him like a hawk. He himself had yet again aged a decade and earned a new scar, but still struck Ginny as combative.
"My condolences," he said and Ginny could see he meant it. "I did not know him well, but I witnessed his bravery myself on the twenty-sixth."
"Thank you, Minister," Mum managed to say, before drifting past him. As the rest of the Weasleys and the Order streamed out, Scrimgeour fell in step next to her.
"Miss Weasley, do you have a moment?" he asked.
"Leave her alone, Rufus," Moody said, positioning himself between her and Scrimgeour. "This is not the moment."
"I disagree, Alastor," Scrimgeour said calmly. "We are up against the wall here."
"My answer hasn't changed since last time, Minister," Ginny interrupted curtly.
"As you wish, but do consider that the circumstances may have changed with Dumbledore's passing," Scrimgeour said, at least possessing enough decency not to push the issue. "May I have a word with you as well, Alastor?" he asked and the two grizzled ex-Aurors detached themselves from the group.
Tonks fell into step instead, this time bereft of any colourful hair or strange facial feature. Instead, she looked depressingly normal, her hair a faded grey. When Ginny caught her eye, she sighed, a sound to perfectly encapsulate the day.
"I'm sorry, Ginny," she said.
Ginny vaguely remembered they'd been at Hogwarts together and though there was so much she wanted to ask, so much that she'd never be able to ask Charlie himself, she couldn't bring herself to do it now. So instead, she just nodded.
They gathered at the Burrow afterwards, her mum all caught up in preparing the food. She moved through it almost mechanically, hands busy as her mind mourned. Ginny thought of the conversation they'd had on Christmas and realised that the day where they'd truly be able to let go was far away still.
It made her not want to leave for Hogwarts. Would everyone still be here next time she came home? And what world would they live in then? A whole generation was slowly dying in this war. Death Eater fought Auror and Order, while Muggles died simply for being born. It was too much, far too much. And still there was no end to it.
Mind swimming as it was, she almost didn't notice when Astoria stepped into the Burrow. All in black, for once without accessories and looking utterly out of her depth, she hesitantly crossed the threshold, as if expecting to be sent away any second. She hadn't been invited to the funeral, but Ginny had owled her and begged her to come afterwards. Secret organisations or not, war be damned, she needed a friend.
Astoria took one long look at her and then the hesitation disappeared. She hurried towards her and gave her a hug. The kind she'd been getting from her mum ever since they'd gotten the news, only this time Ginny could let go, something finally breaking through the numbness, through a cold harsher than any Dementor had ever inspired.
"Oh Tori," she sobbed softly into Tori's hair.
"I'm so sorry Ginny," her friend said, carefully releasing her and guiding her towards a couch in the corner of the room, then settling down next to her.
"What are we supposed to do now? Dumbledore's gone. Charlie's gone," she said, her voice catching.
"What we always do, we keep going," Astoria replied, handing her a handkerchief. "But not today. Today, standing still is already more than enough."
"It just doesn't feel real," Ginny stammered. "Because how can he be gone? How can this be real? Haven't we lost enough?"
"More than enough," Astoria said softly. "I'm sorry Ginny, I just - just don't know what to say."
"Tell me we'll get them for this," Ginny said.
"We will. They're going to pay, no matter what it takes," Astoria promised, with an intensity that finally made her understand why this gentle girl had been Sorted into Slytherin.
When she couldn't sleep that night, when Charlie and Ron, Hermione and Harry, Luna and Neville all clamoured, she thought of that iron resolve. She would get them.
Before she returned to Hogwarts, Dad took her aside. Her brothers had all left the house by then and Mum had ventured outside again for the first time in a week. She herself hadn't been sure what to do, the remaining homework looking distinctly unappealing, but still about the only option that still remained. Until he had knocked on her door.
He came inside, hesitantly and sat down on her unmade bed as she turned her desk chair towards him. His face and handwringing told her it was no accident he had waited for this talk until mum had left.
"Ginny, before you return to Hogwarts, we need to discuss a few things," he began, his tone so grave that for a second, Ginny wondered if he was going to ask her what she knew about Horcruxes. "I have been speaking with Moody and Snape. For now, the Ministry will still hold. It appears You-Know-Who has not yet recovered from the battle on the twenty-sixth. Snape isn't sure what curse Dumbledore used, but it was a nasty one and it gives us a bit more time," he said.
"That's good, right?" Ginny said. Dad nodded.
"That said, we still suspect the Ministry's fall is a matter of months. And with Dumbledore gone, that means Hogwarts will not be safe either. If it falls while you're still at school, please keep your head down. You-Know-Who's more moderate advisors have convinced him to spare the school. At least the Purebloods and Halfbloods."
How twisted it was that such advice was to be considered moderate.
"So if a Death Eater is installed as headmaster, I just go along with it?" she asked, incredulously.
"That is exactly what we're asking from you, yes," Dad admitted. "Even if the Ministry falls, we'll keep fighting. And I can't promise we'll send you back for your sixth year. But until then, do whatever is necessary to make sure you make it back to us safely."
Ginny shifted in her seat, a hundred awful visions flashing before her eyes.
"Promise me you will, Ginny," Dad pressed.
"Fine. I promise," she said, looking away.
"Thank you," he said, kissing her on the top of her head.
Liar, Tom hissed as her father left her room. It had been sensible advice, but Dad didn't know about Horcruxes and immortal tyrants.
Bill sought her out as well, a gentle knock on her door late at night when Ginny couldn't sleep and every shadow looked like Dolohov.
"Ginny, you're awake?" he whispered.
"Come in," she said and watched as her brother shuffled in, his face ghostly in the light of his Lumos.
"I wanted to talk with you before you left tomorrow," he said, sitting down at the end of her bed.
For a moment, she felt like she was six again, Bill consoling her after Fred and George had made her cry and then teaching her how to get even. He'd taken being a big brother just as seriously as Percy, but he'd interpreted it very differently.
"What, to tell me to be careful?" she asked, resisting the urge to roll with her eyes.
"Would that help?" he asked, crooking an eyebrow and despite herself, Ginny smiled for the first time ever since that dial had fallen down.
"Not really."
"I thought as much. No, you were right on New Year's Eve. This is everyone's war. It's the only way we can win. You know what to do at Hogwarts?"
"Tear Dumbledore's office apart for clues," she said promptly.
"Exactly," he nodded. "And if you want, tell your Slytherin friend."
"Astoria? You trust her?"
"That's not the question is it? It's whether you trust her. All I know is that this is too big to face alone. You need an ally at Hogwarts. If not her, McGonagall."
McGonagall, who had been so kind and courageous when she talked to Ginny in her office. It was tempting to tell her, even more tempting than it had been to tell Scrimgeour. But she already had the burden of a whole school to bear now and she couldn't help but think that maybe Dumbledore had been right in withholding this particular piece of information.
"I'll tell Astoria," she said and Bill nodded.
"Good. If you find a Horcrux, write to me and Fleur. Don't go after it alone," he said.
"I won't," she promised and this time she meant it. She had already held one Horcrux in her hand and it had fooled her easily. Now, with its whispers still lodged in her, there was no telling what the next would do.
"And please, please be as careful as you can be. This family can't afford to lose anyone anymore," Bill said. "Hogwarts is probably still safe for now, but it won't last. Snape says-"
"Dad told me," she interrupted him. "I know."
"Alright, best of luck little sister," he said, pulling her in a hug.
"You too big brother."
HOGWARTS MUGGLE STUDIES PROFESSOR MISSING
Her family was one of the first on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, at Ginny's own insistence. They didn't say much as they parted, everything had already been said at home, but when Mum hugged her, it was a hug as fierce as she'd ever received.
"Please come home safe," she whispered in her ear.
"Please be still here," Ginny said back.
"Always, my sweetheart. Always," Mum told her, eyes blazing in a way she knew all too well from looking in the mirror. "We're done losing the people we love."
An impossible declaration, but it was all they could give each other there and then. Ginny hugged her again, then fell into Dad's arms.
"Remember what I said," he told her. Ginny just nodded, unable to lie to his face again.
She found a compartment watching over the entrance. Even accounting for those who had stayed at Hogwarts, and hadn't that been a minuscule number this year, fewer people trickled in than usual. Not the Slytherins though, most of them buoyant and loud. The only ones not unnerved by the Aurors on the Platform, the only ones not looking around as if death lurked around the corner. But the other houses were diminished. She spotted the Creeveys, but few other Muggleborns. With their greatest champion fallen in the Ministry's atrium, she could hardly fault them.
Even the D.A. was reduced in numbers. Chang and Corner stepped through the barrier, as did Katie, Lavender and Seamus, but not Justin Finch-Fletchely, Anthony Goldstein or Dean Thomas. Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan and Zacharias Smith entered together and looked rather lost without Justin. The Patils only arrived five minutes before the train left, still arguing with their parents until the conductor blew his whistle and they leapt on the train. Of their new recruits, only Demelza and Astoria returned, the latter entering her compartment slightly out of breath.
"Sorry for being late. Our breakfast philosophising got out of hand," she said, throwing down her trunk with slightly more force than necessary. Ginny knew better than to ask. "What's the headcount?" she asked.
"Diminished," Ginny admitted and then, barely daring to voice the question. "Did anyone-"
"Die?" Astoria interrupted. "Not as far as I know. Apart from that one assault on the Ministry, the Dark Lord's been quiet. I suppose he's satisfied for now. Everyone is just terrified and I can't blame them."
"The Dark Lord?" Ginny echoed, hearing that particular term for the first time from the mouth of Astoria.
"Merlin, sorry," she said, slapping her forehead. "It's just, well, my parents insisted I use that term. At least since Dumbledore…" Her voice trailed off. "They didn't want me to draw even more attention to myself than I did by being friends with you. At least they haven't told me to cut ties yet with you."
"And would you?" Ginny asked cautiously.
"Ginny, I'm here, aren't I? And that's not changing," she declared. "I've already painted a bullseye on my forehead last semester and I'm quite happy with the look. Let them come."
"That sounded almost like an invitation," Nott said as he entered their compartment, smirking. "I'm sorry my Christmas gift was so late, Weasley."
Astoria had her wand out in a second, but Nott just looked at it contemptuously.
"As if you'd dare. You should take a page from your sister's book - she almost threw herself in my arms just now. She knows who has won, and who has lost," he said.
The scars on his face had faded, but were still visible if you knew where to look. Ginny didn't draw her wand yet, if only because she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from using the Transmogrifian torture again.
"Leave, Nott," she warned, not in the mood for any games.
"I just wanted to make sure you got my Christmas gift. I'm sorry it was late, but Greyback was never very punctual. Did your brother's scars match yours or-"
BANG.
Ginny was pulling out her wand, a thousand horrible curses on her mind and damn the consequences when Astoria's stunner hit Nott with such force that he slammed into the door with a loud crash that made Ginny grateful there were no teachers on the train.
"Thank you."
"He had it coming. Fucking bastard," Astoria said as she marched to the stunned Nott and kicked him in the face, breaking his nose with a satisfying crunch. "He's getting off lucky all things considered," she added, dragging him into the hall and tossing him down face first. Ginny could hear something else crack and she doubted it was the floor.
Only then Astoria cast the reviving spell on him. Nott came to, coughing, clutching his nose and with murder in his eyes.
"You'll regret that, Greengrass," he warned her, blood dripping down his chin and on his hand. My father-"
"Will hear about this? Sorry darling, Malfoy's already got that line. Crawl back to your compartment, maybe Daphne will kiss it better for you."
"You've chosen the wrong side, bitch," Nott muttered as he stalked off, still clutching his nose.
"I doubt it," Astoria replied before slamming the compartment door shut, the glass shaking in its frame. "So. With that out of the way, how about exchanging gifts?" she said, beginning to rummage through her trunk.
Ginny decided she could trust Astoria with Horcruxes. Or anything, really. No matter how much her family had her speak of Dark Lords and Mudbloods, this was who she was at the end of the day, the girl unafraid of breaking a Death Eater's son's nose.
"Can you meet me in the Room tonight? There is something you need to know."
Astoria looked up from her trunk and blinked. Something in Ginny's tone must have told her how important it was.
"Of course," Astoria nodded. "If you're sure. I'd understand if-"
"Tori, shut up. I trust you," Ginny said and how good it felt to say those words.
"Thank you," she said seriously, before an impish grin passed across her face. "Now, how about gifts?"
Astoria took it all in with grim-faced seriousness as Ginny told her of a man who wanted to live forever and thus tore his soul in seven pieces and then hid six of them. She paled when Ginny told her of a diary that had come to Hogwarts in their first year and found that for a while, her body could do with two souls, at least until it had grown weary of playing with a Basilisk and the castle's inhabitants. She didn't tell her of the Tom she could still hear inside her head, but she did tell her of a ritual of resurrection in a graveyard, and a secret organisation under the banner of a phoenix.
Finally, she told her of a hunt for six objects, now down to four. A cup, a locket and two more and why that meant they would need to break into their late headmaster's office and hope that McGonagall hadn't cleaned it out already.
Through it all, Astoria's green eyes grew as wide as saucers as Ginny's story progressed. But she didn't run away or left Ginny wondering if she'd have to learn the memory charm. Instead, she nodded throughout, looking just as determined as she had when she'd cursed Nott.
"All right," she said finally. "You take the name Dumbledore's Army rather literally, don't you."
"I'd understand if this is-" Ginny began, but before she could decide what 'this' really was, Astoria interrupted her.
"Ginny, shut up," Astoria said. "We're in this together."
Weasley and Greengrass. It wasn't the same as Potter, Weasley and Granger. That she knew all too well. But it still gave her hope.
Dumbledore's funeral the next day was everything that Charlie's hadn't been. A grand open casket service, well-attended, except for the Order members who had conducted a separate ceremony for their leader and mentor, and utterly impersonal. Wizards and witches told the mass of black dress robes of wisdom, power and, in Scrimgeour's case, sacrifice. While Dumbledore had been all that, she couldn't help but feel it hardly encapsulated him. Perhaps if they would have spoken of school songs, brightly coloured robes and cauldron cakes, it might have felt more like the dotty headmaster the school had known. Something told her, he'd have much preferred being remembered like that.
Then again, what did she know? She wasn't even sure if she mourned Dumbledore himself, or the loss of the one man who could have shouldered the burden of this war. The loss of an easy solution. Did that make her a bad person?
Only at the end, something changed. A wizard, so old he looked closer to death than life, all grey hair and wrinkles, was droning on about Grindelwald and the war until a Phoenix's cry pierced the silence. A single tone that spoke of unending grief, held far longer than any normal voice could bear, before it morphed into a requiem. Up there in the cold sky, Fawkes flew and sang and sang and sang until Ginny could feel the grief inside her. And though she had been sure there were no tears left to cry this time, that the war had finally left her numb, she still cried. The lament told her it was alright. And as her eyes slid down from the sky to the tomb, she saw all were just as moved as she was.
The song ended on a last mournful note, held even longer than the first, as Fawkes landed next to the coffin, all eyes on the remarkable companion of this remarkable man. Slowly, flames spread across the coffin, not burning but caressing until they had risen so high Dumbledore and Fawkes were obscured from sight. When they retreated, both were gone, leaving a shining white tomb in its stead, without inscriptions except for the carving of a phoenix.
Ginny was sure the old man in the front hadn't been finished yet, nor were the other officials still lurking at the front, but none dared to speak after that display. Instead, people slowly rose, drifting back to Hogwarts or Hogsmeade. Hagrid could be seen sobbing still on three chairs, even as the Professors led their houses back to the castle. Before she could walk inside, however, McGonagall stopped her.
"Would you walk with me, Miss Weasley?" she asked, her face still glazed with tears.
"Of course, Professor," she said, after some hesitation about whether to address her as 'headmistress'. But on today of all days, that felt wrong. Judging by McGonagall's lack of reaction, she felt the same. They set off around the lake and the edge of the forest as people milled around the tomb, studying it with an awe that bordered on the disrespectful.
"I was sorry to hear about Charlie. He was a fine man and I feel blessed for having had him in my house," she said.
"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said.
"I understood you met with the headmaster several times this year?" McGonagall asked.
"That's correct."
"Professor Dumbledore was with me when the call came on the twenty-sixth. We were going over budgets," she said, her voice betraying just how asinine a way she considered that to have spent her last moments with the greatest wizard of their time. "And before he left, he wrote down a quick letter for you." She reached into her pocket and produced a thin envelope. "He recommended you read it in his office. The password hasn't changed," she said as she handed her the envelope.