Chapter 25: The Funeral
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Sorry folks, going through a bit of a manic phase right now and I'm not up to writing. My brain won't shut up enough to concentrate. I got this out, but… it's short and it took a lot. Sorry if it's not up to par.
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The next day, Sirius and Harry met up with Amelia in her office. They both had trouble getting there. Harry had had to fight with McGonagall to leave the school, but in the end won out because he had the letter from Bones asking him to come. Black had been mobbed as soon as he left his house. He couldn't go anywhere without being so accosted.
"I'm glad you could make it, gentlemen," Amelia said, pouring them both some coffee. It was early enough in the day to still warrant the beverage.
"Thanks, it was a bitch to get here," Harry said, taking the cup. He thought now that Dumbledore was gone that he could get out of the castle unmolested, but he was wrong, and that irked him something fierce. He hated that McGonagall had taken up where the old man had left off.
"Yeah, what he said," said Sirius, putting his hot cup on the desk in front of him, where he could find some room. It was an overly full desk. There was parchmentwork everywhere. He did note that it was less full than the last time he was in the office. He could only ascertain that she must have found some closures to some of her cases.
"Mind your language, young man," Bones said, giving Harry a look. She understood where he was coming from. She too thought the teen would have no problems getting here, but the old battleaxe was becoming an issue. She was bound and determined to be just as much of a problem as Dumbledore.
Harry looked contrite and nodded. "Sorry," he said, and then he looked at her and added, "Why are we here? I mean, are we in trouble?" He didn't think he had done anything wrong, but you never can tell with magicals. He didn't know all the rules, so he didn't know if he had broken one.
"No, did you do something to be in trouble for?" she asked, wondering if he had. It wasn't uncommon for people to trip themselves up when asked that question.
"No, which is why I'm confused," Harry stated, giving her a lopsided grin.
"She wants something, Harry," Sirius said, more used to politics then his godson. "She either wants money, or for us to put in a good word for her," he stated, looking at Bones with a wink. He didn't care. He was happy to help. If it hadn't been for her and Harry, not to mention his solicitor, he'd still be banging about Grimmauld Place.
"That's right," Amelia said, then laid out the plans for the undercover department she wanted to get going, the pros and cons of it and why it needed to be worded the way it needed to be worded. How it could affect the muggleborn if not handled correctly. She was sure to mention Tonks, how she would be helpful, and her special abilities.
"I see where you're coming from," Sirius said, rubbing his goatee. "I don't want anyone thinking the muggleborn are trying to take over the wizarding world. But my question is, are they?" It was a valid question. It sounded like they were trying to take over in a convoluted way. That is what these types of organizations did, in their own way. They tried to rule the world via fear and power.
"I don't think so," she answered, looking thoughtful. "But that's one of the reasons we need to get someone undercover in there," she added a bit forcefully. "If Tonks can determine what they are doing, we can either arrest them, or disband them," she stated, sipping her coffee. That was her hope at any rate. "It will take years for this to happen. It's not something that will happen overnight. I need to sell it to the Wizengamot that way too," she added.
"I can get behind that. I'm not sure how I feel about you putting my baby cousin on the front line like that, but it is her job," Sirius said, lifting his cup and taking a sip. He loved Tonks, but with her clumsiness, he wasn't sure she was the best candidate.
"Tonks is a big girl, Sirius," Harry said, not touching his cup. He had more than enough caffeine this morning. "She is overly qualified for this position. She can get out if things get rough," he added, hoping to make the other man feel better. He really didn't know Tonks all that well. They only spent a little time together this summer, but what he did know about her, she had her wits about her. Her bad taste in men notwithstanding. Though he had been happy to hear that she had kicked Remus to the curb when he came calling.
"You're right, and she has a good head on her shoulders," the overly protective cousin stated. He knew that to be true. Tonks was the best in her class in Auror Training. All but stealth classes. She passed all the other classes with flying colors. She would do what needed to be done.
"So, you'll do it?" Amelia asked, putting her cup on her coaster. It was an old thing that had seen many cups over the years. It needed to be replaced, but she loved that it held grooves that fit all her cups. She looked to the two males and all but pleaded with her eyes. She really needed them to get behind this endeavor.
"Yeah, I'll do it," Sirius said, looking at Harry. He would do whatever Harry wanted. Well, he'd do it anyway, but he hoped Harry would back him.
"I'll do it on one condition," Harry said, tapping his finger on the arm of his chair. "Dumbledore's name is not mentioned in connection with this department in the least. I don't want my name tied to his at all," he added. He didn't want the old man to martyr into it.
"I don't see a problem with that," she said, thinking back to see if the man was in any way connected to the issue. She didn't think he was. As far as she knew Dumbledore had no connection with the muggleborn mafia.
"Then you have my support," the teenager declared. He'd get with his manager at Gringotts and have them set aside some funds to bankroll this department. He was sure Sirius would do the same. They would see if they could get some other backers as well.
"Great, we'll do it the next Wizengamot meeting," Bones stated, and they got down to the nitty-gritty. It took the better part of the next hour, and then Harry had to return to school, but it was all worked out. They would speak to the governing body and then set up the department and get the ball rolling.
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The funeral was not as elaborate as Fudge would have liked it to have been. First off, it wasn't on Hogwarts' grounds. Sirius Black and many others, nixed that right off. They protested that no other headmaster was buried there, and Albus Dumbledore was not going to be the first. It would set a precedent, and they didn't want that.
Second off, there was no band in the parade. He just couldn't drum up enough money for it. He had gone to every rich alumnus that he could, but since he owed them so much money, they weren't willing to dole out more.
Still, he got his parade and a grandiose burial in a predominant graveyard, but no marching band. The casket was elaborate and tacky, just like the old man would have wanted it. It was deep purple on the outside, with a lavender lining. There were pink pillows and blue ribbons. It was just as colorful as he was.
It was an open casket, and Dumbledore was in one of his colorful robes, to match the casket. His hair and beard were combed and laid out in pristine lines. He looked like he was sleeping, with his withered hands hidden in his robes. No one would know that he died from his own folly. As far as most knew, he died of old age.
There were so many flowers that Fudge could have opened his own flower shop. Everyone, and their uncle, sent flowers. Not to mention the ones that the minister had ordered. Some had to be sent away, there were so many. As it was, there was barely any room for the casket. They came in all arrangements and styles. From small wildflower bouquets to huge, detailed preparations. The poorest person to the richest sent their regards to the most well-known man in the wizarding world.
Many people were there, and Fudge did get the band to play at the service. So, there was that. They filled the room that he had rented to the brim. There were people in the courtyard and the street surrounding the building. They poured out as far as they could, until they couldn't hear the speakers that were put on the side of the building for the public.
Molly Weasley was wailing loudly and making a spectacle of herself. She was told that if she didn't rein it in, she would have to leave. There were a few others that were told the same, but she was the loudest. She proclaimed that she had the right to vent her grief however she felt necessary. Her husband tried to control her, but she was beside herself. It took them bodily, hauling her to her feet to finally get her under control. It was only then that she realized that they would throw her out.
The service was long and boring to most, and it was recognizable mostly by who was there, and who wasn't. Most of the predominant figures of the wizarding world were there, except Harry Potter and Sirius Black, and a few others. However, those two were noticeably absent. There were chairs set aside for them up on the stage, right next to Fudge, and there was time set in the speech schedule for them to speak. Both were left empty and people noticed.
The gossip that was happening during the funeral was scandalous. It was more exciting than the funeral itself. Rita had already dug up some interesting facts on the subject of said funeral and was already spreading some of them, via tidbits. And now Harry Potter and Sirius Black were shunning the service. It was shocking everyone to the core. The rumors were flying, and lips were wagging.
"Why do you think he did it?" Neville asked Hermione as they sat and watched another official give another boring speech on the wonders of the headmaster.
"He told you he wasn't coming," she said, straightening her skirt. She had long ago stopped listening to the boring officials. They were all saying the same thing.
"Yeah, but I didn't ask why," he said with a shrug. He had, but he was playing up the people listening to them.
"He hates the old man and won't pretend that he likes him now that he's dead. You'll note that Aberforth isn't here either," she said, pointing to the empty family section. The brother was among the few people that did not attend. Harry, Sirius, Aberforth and one Wizengamot member because he was sick.
"I wonder why no one is making a fuss over that?" Neville said, looking in that direction. He had not noticed that that seat was empty.
"Everyone knows there's bad blood between the brothers. Or they didn't know there was a brother," Hermione stated, looking around and seeing people were listening to them. 'Good,' she thought. She wanted people to know that Dumbledore wasn't all sunshine and daisies. She looked to where the Weasleys were seated and saw that Ron was shooting her dirty looks. He couldn't hear them, but he could see them.
"Still, I get Harry, but why Sirius?" was the next question.
"Sirius still blames Dumbledore for keeping him in prison all those years, and for not getting him his trial when he escaped," she explained, though she knew Neville knew all this. This was for their audience.
"Oh, I see," he said, smirking on the inside.
"I wonder why Rita Skeeter is spreading rumors that the headmaster is gay?" Hermione asked in a stage whisper, looking around like the vile woman was nearby.
"Didn't you know? I heard he was lovers with Grindelwald," Neville said, who knew that from his grandmother. "My gran said that they were childhood friends that grew into more until there was a huge blowout when they were young adults." It was a well-known story at the time, but it seemed to have died over the years. It was time it was revived.
"She would know, she was around then," Hermione said, tapping a finger to her chin.
"That and she was friends with Bagshot, who was Grindelwald's aunt," the sandy-haired teen stated.
"Isn't that woman like over a hundred and fifty years old?" the bushy-haired girl asked, having known that from her book cover.
"She is one of the longest-lived woman around," Neville confirmed.
"I do wonder why no one knows about that now," she added with a reflective tone. "I mean, Dumbledore and Grindelwald," she stated.
"I don't know. You would think that would be something people wouldn't forget," Neville stated, making those around them get thoughtful.
"Well, I'm sure it's nothing nefarious like memory charms, or the like," Hermione stated, giving him a glare. She didn't think it was. Just something simple like something more important came up and people just forgot.
"Well, if the headmaster was so tight with Grindelwald, then that might be why he took so long to defeat him. I wouldn't want to go after my lover," the teenage boy stated. Making those around them scowl. They didn't like that thought at all.
"Still, he should have gone after him much sooner. Many people died," she said, softly. She didn't like the fact that the old man waited. If it had been her, she would have left much sooner.
"Perhaps," was all he said.
"Doesn't this man ever get tired of hearing himself talk?" Hermione said, looking at the man on the stage who was repeating himself now.
"No, they never do," Neville said with a sigh. He too was tired of listening to the officials. They all had the same boring speeches about how wonderful of a man Dumbledore was. Each rehashing his accomplishments and heroic deeds.
The two friends settled back and resigned themselves to listening to more speeches. They wondered if they should have stayed at the castle with Harry and taken the detention and point loss.
After about three more speeches the funeral was over. A long procession and the man was finally laid to rest. There was more crying and mourning, and finally people went home or back to Hogwarts.
"So, how was it?" Harry asked his friends and girlfriend at dinner that night.
"Very fancy," Padma said. She was sitting at the Gryffindor table this time. They would switch off like that. "However, it would have been nicer if you had been there." There was some chastisement in her tone.
"I told you why I wasn't going to be there," he said, putting some roasted chicken on his plate.
She sighed and put some salad on hers. "I know and I do understand, but it was tedious answering all those questions about why you weren't there. The press was tenacious," she lamented. She just didn't know how to handle them. They were like crups with a bone.
"Next time tell them to fuck off," he suggested. He hated the press. They just didn't know when to quit.
"Harry!" she exclaimed.
"That's what I plan on doing. It's none of their damn business," he said, putting some mashed potatoes on his plate, then spooning some gravy on top.
"I can't do that," she said, finding some baked chicken among the dishes.
"I know, but if you're going to stick with me, you're going to have to deal with the press. I'm sorry to say that," he said with a sigh. He really liked Padma, but she really needed to grow a backbone if they were going to last.
"I know," was all she said. She did know that too. She needed to step up and put on her big girl pants. But it was so hard to do that. She was so sheltered, and it wasn't part of her upbringing. She wasn't like her sister.
"I will try to shelter you as much as possible, but there will be times when I can't," Harry said, putting his arms around her.
"We'll help," Hermione said, putting her hand on Padma's arm.
"Thanks, Hermione," Padma said, patting her hand.
"Yeah," said Neville. He felt bad for the girl. He knew what it was like to be shy.
"So, besides fancy and nerve-wracking, how did it go?" Harry asked, taking a bite of his dinner.
"Dead boring," Neville said, cutting up his roast beef. He went on to tell Harry about all the speeches the officials made and how they were all about the same.
"What he said," Hermione said, nodding her agreement.
"You two had no respect for the dead," Ron said, commenting from his place three seats down. "You wouldn't stop talking the whole time." He slammed his fist on the table and sneered at them.
"The speeches were boring," Neville said again. "They kept saying the same thing over and over again. We had to entertain ourselves or fall asleep," he added.
"You were disrespectful," Ron said, pointing his fork at them.
"Bugger off, Ron," Hermione stated, putting a forkful of salad in her mouth.
"Yeah, bugger off, Weasley," Harry said, smiling at the redhead.
"Fuck you, Potter. You didn't even show up," Ron stated. "After all Dumbledore did for you, you didn't even come!" he yelled, standing up and turning in his direction. To him that was the ultimate insult.
"I'm not explaining myself to you," Harry said, remaining seated. He wasn't going to get into it here. Not with Ron of all people. He wasn't going to air his laundry in the Great Hall. He made his position clear once and that was the last time he was going to state it.
"Dumbledore was a great man and you shite on his day by being a big arsehole! You are slime, Potter! You hear me, you are lower than low," Ron was saying.
The twins got up and each grabbed an arm and drug Ron away. "Don't worry, Harry, we got this," they said. They understood why Harry didn't go to the funeral. They knew his story and agreed with him that Dumbledore did him wrong.
"Thanks, guys."
"You're an arsehole, Harry Potter! You hear me, you're a fucking arsehole!" Ron was yelling for all the Great Hall to hear.
"Well, I guess he told me," was all Harry said as he continued to eat his dinner.