𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗖𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗘

ACT ONE, CHAPTER TEN
dumbledore's funeral.

ALL LESSONS WERE suspended and all the exams were postponed, so Penelope guessed she had studied for absolutely nothing. However, she had told her mind to shut the fuck up for now — there were bigger things than getting good marks in school right now. In fact, she couldn't focus on anything besides what was going on in the world right now. What she had seen up on the tower, Draco's betrayal, her ultimate confession to Ron . . . it was all making her head spin.

On the following days after Dumbledore's death, some students were picked up from Hogwarts. The Patil twins were gone early morning the day after and Zacharias Smith had been escorted from the castle by his arrogant-looking father. Seamus Finnegan had even been in a screaming match with his mother in the entrance hall, Iris accents flying back in forth. He had refused to accompany his mother home, and she had finally agreed that he could stay behind for the funeral.

Penelope had been secluding herself with the company of Tracey and Daphne, and of course, everyone who had been in the hospital wing that night after everything had happened. All of them could tell that she had obviously seen some shit, and once again, just like last year, the only one who really understood was Harry. Ron was being extra supportive, but nobody but Harry understood what it was like to see a fucking body drop from the tallest tower of Hogwarts.

They all visited the hospital wing twice a day. Neville had been discharged, but Charlotte Thomas was rarely seen without him. Bill remained under the care of Madam Pomfrey. His scars were as bad as ever, and to be honest, he kind of looked like Mad-Eye Moody. However, her personality stayed the same. All that changed was that he suddenly had a great liking for very rare steaks. At least it wasn't like Greyback.

". . . so eet ees lucky 'e is marrying me, because ze British overcook their meat, I 'ave always said this," Fleur admitted happily, plumping up Bill's pillows.

Later that evening, Penelope, Harry, Venus, Ron, Hermione, Charlotte, Elijah, and Ginny sat beside the open window of the Gryffindor common room, looking out over the twilit grounds. It was a normal occurrance to see the two Slytherins and one Ravenclaw in Gryffindor tower — nobody really questioned it anymore.

Ginny sighed. "I suppose I'm just going to have to accept that he really is going to marry her."

Penelope shrugged, her legs resting over Ron's lap — ever since the confession, they had been a lot more affectionate with each other. "Venus and I have been telling you since the summer — she's not that bad."

"Well, I suppose if Mum can stand it, I can."

"Anyone else we know died?" Ron asked Hermione, who was reading the Evening Prophet.

Hermione folded up the newspaper. "No. They're still looking for Snape but no sign . . ."

"Of course there isn't," Harry replied angrily. "They won't find Snape till they find Voldemort, and seeing as they've never managed to do that in all this time . . ."

"I'm going to go to bed," Ginny announced with a yawn. "I haven't been sleeping that well since . . . well . . . I could do with some sleep."

Elijah smiled softly at her. "'Night, Gin."

Ginny squeezed his shoulder and waved at the others before departing to the girls' dormitories. The moment the door snapped shut behind her, Hermione leaned forwards toward Harry.

"Harry, I found something out this morning, in the library," Hermione stated.

He now sat up straight, removing his head from leaning against Venus'. "R.A.B.?"

Oh, there's another thing. Apparently, this entire year, Dumbledore had been having private lessons with Harry about Voldemort. Voldemort had split his soul into objects so he couldn't be killed that easily, and that night, Harry had gone to get a Horcrux with Dumbledore. However, the one they had retrieved had actually been fake.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, I've been trying, Harry, but I haven't found anything . . . there are a couple of reasonably well-known wizards with those initials — Rosalind Antigone Bungs . . . Rupert Axebanger Brookstanton . . . but they don't seem to fit at all. Judging by that note, the person who stole the Horcrux knew Voldemort, and I can't find a shred of evidence that Bungs or Axebanger ever had anything to do with him . . . no, actually, it's about . . . well, Snape."

Harry slumped back in his chair, resuming his original position of his head leaning on Venus'. The girl allowed him to do so with no complaints.

Charlotte made a noise of disgust. "Do we really have to talk about him?"

"Well, it's just that I was sort of right about the Half-Blood Prince business," Hermione began.

"D'you have to rub it in, Hermione?" Harry questioned. "How d'you think I feel about that now?"

"No — no — Harry, I didn't mean that!" Hermione looked around to check that they were not being overheard. "It's just that I was right about Eileen Prince once owning the book. You see . . . she was Snape's mother!"

"I thought she wasn't much of a looker," Ron said.

Penelope hit the back of his head gently. "Shut up."

"I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she'd given birth to a—" Hermione started to explain.

"—murderer," Harry finished.

"Well . . . yes. So . . . I was sort of right. Snape must have been proud of being half a Prince, you see? Tobias Snape was a Muggle from what it said in the Prophet."

"Yeah, that fits. He'd play up the Pureblood side so he could get in with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of them . . .he's just like Voldemort. Pureblood mother, Muggle father . . . ashamed of his parentage, trying to make himself feared using the Dark Arts, gave himself an impressive new name — Lord Voldemort — the Half-Blood Prince — how could Dumbledore have missed—?"

Harry suddenly broke off, looking out the window. Penelope frowned at that. She had to admit, she never liked Snape despite being a Slytherin, but she never expected him to be a murderer. And Dumbledore knew everything about Snape, so why exactly did he trust him?

Penelope had no fucking clue.

"I still don't get why he didn't turn you in for using that book," Ron voiced. "He must've known where you were getting it all from."

"He knew," Harry responded bitterly. "He knew when I used Sectumsempra. He didn't really need Legilimency . . . he might even have known before then, with Slughorn talking about how brilliant I was at Potions . . . shouldn't have left his old book in the bottom of that cupboard, should he?"

"But why didn't he turn you in?"

"Dumbledore," Elijah answered simply. "I don't think he would've liked it if he found about the book. Plus, the fact that his handwriting would've been recognizable and the book being in his old classroom . . . Dumbledore probably knew his mother had the last name Prince as well."

"I should've shown the book to Dumbledore," Harry continued. "All that time he was showing me how Voldemort was evil even when he was at school, and I had proof Snape was too—"

"Evil is a strong word," Hermione quietly argued.

"You were the one who kept telling me the book was dangerous!"

"I'm trying to say, Harry, that you're putting too much blame on yourself. I thought the Prince seemed to have a nasty sense of humor, but I would never have guessed he was a potential killer . . ."

Penelope nodded. "None of us could've ever known that Snape would've done something like this."

They all went silent. Each of them started to become lost in their own thoughts, but Penelope they all shared one common thought — the following morning, when Dumbledore's funeral would occur. Penelope hadn't attended a funeral before. Nobody close to her or her relatives had died, so she didn't know what to expect.

The next morning, Penelope woke up after a restless night's sleep. She ignored the stares she got from Pansy Parkinson as she packed up her trunk since the Hogwarts Express would be leaving an hour after the funeral. As she put away her Slytherin ties, she had a very horrible feeling that Hogwarts wouldn't be the same as it was now. Everything was going so downhill.

As she came to realize, the mood in the Great Hall that morning was also subdued. Everyone was wearing their dress robes and no one seemed to be eating. Penelope was in the same boat — all she was doing was stirring her cereal around with a spoon. McGonagall had left the thronelike chair in the middle of the staff table, the same one Dumbledore always sat in, empty. Hagrid's chair was also empty and Snape's had been filled by Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic. Sitting next to Scrimgeour was none other than Percy Weasley.

Daphne and Tracey had already left, much to Penelope's dismay. Tracey's parents wanted her home as soon as possible and Daphne's didn't want her or Astoria to stay for the funeral — so Penelope sat with Charlotte, neither of them saying a word at breakfast. They both ignored the mutterings of Crabbe and Goyle, who looked oddly lonely without Draco bossing them around. Every so often, Penelope would glance over at the spot Draco usually sat in and frowned. She truly didn't think Draco would've killed Dumbledore — she had heard the fear in his voice and saw how he had almost lowered his wand. Penelope wondered where he was and how he was doing.

McGonagall then got to her feet, and Penelope looked up as the mournful hum in the Hall died away. "It is nearly time. Please follow your Heads of Houses out into the grounds. Gryffindors, after me."

They all filed out from behind their benches in silence. Slughorn was at the head of the Slytherin column, wearing emerald green robes embroidered with silver. Sprout, Head of the Hufflepuffs, looked cleaner than Penelope had ever seen her. When they reached the entrance hall, they saw Madam Pince wearing a thick black veil that fell to her knees and Filch wearing an ancient black suit and tie.

Nobody seemed to care that the students were leaving their columns as they headed towards the lake. Penelope and Charlotte drifted away towards the Gryffindor column, Elijah following in suit. Charlotte made her way next to Neville, and the two of them started to whisper with each other. Elijah went to Ginny, and while the two of them said nothing, their shoulders continued to brush against one anothers. Finally, Penelope took Ron's outstretched hand and laced their fingers together, sticking close to him.

They walked out into the warm summer day, and for such a sad occasion, it was beautiful outside. Once they got to the place, hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows with an aisle running down the center of them. At the very front was a marble statue, and all of the chairs were facing it.

There was already an assortment of people in half of the chairs. Penelope only recognized a few — Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, Nymphadora with her hair back to its shocking pink, Lupin (who she was holding hands with), Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur (who was supporting him), Fred and George (wearing jackets of black dragon skin), Madame Maxime (headmistress of Beauxbatons), Tom (the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron), and many more. The castle ghosts were also there, but they only were visible when they moved.

Penelope, Ron, Harry, Venus, Hermione, Ginny, Elijah, Neville, and Charlotte all filed into a row beside the lake — Charlotte assisting Neville in doing so. People were whispering together, but it was much quieter than the singing boards. The crowd continued to grow, and Penelope started to see more people. Cornelius Fudge, the stupid fucking old Minister for Magic, twirling his green bowler hat. Rita Skeeter, clutching a notebook. And the one that made Penelope absolutely furious — Umbridge. She had no idea that that bitch was doing here, but she wanted to put her next to a Centaur again to see what would happen.

Finally, the staff was seated. Scrimegeour was looking grave and dignified in the front row with McGonagall. Then sort of strange, otherworldly music started to play, and Penelope looked around for the sound. She finally found it in the Black Lake. In the clear green sunlit water, inches below the surface, was a chorus of Merpeople singing in a strange language, their pallid faces rippling and their purplish hair flowing all around them. The music wasn't unpleasant at all. It spoke very clearly of loss and despair.

She then heard footsteps. Penelope glanced back to see Hagrid walking slowly up the aisle between the chairs. He was silently crying, his face gleaming with tears. In his arms, wrapped in purple velvet decorated with golden stars, was what Penelope knew with horrible clarity was Dumbledore's body. An image of that very same body falling off the Astronomy tower replayed in her mind — she turned back to the front, a large lump in her throat that she couldn't get herself to swallow. Both her and Ron gripped each others' hands tighter. Penelope felt tears prick at the back of her eyes.

It was hard to see what was happening at the front, but Hagrid seemed to have placed the body carefully upon the table. He was now retreating down the aisle, blowing his nose with loud trumpeting noises that caused people to give him scandalized looks. Penelope reached up and wiped a tear that had managed to fall down her cheek with the back of her hand.

The music then stopped. A small tufty-haired man in plain black robes got to his feet and stood in front of Dumbledore's body. Penelope couldn't hear a word he was saying, but she managed to get a couple over the hundreds of heads — nobility of spirit, intellectual contribution, greatness of heart. She really had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Penelope let out a quiet sigh and leaned her head against Ron's shoulder. There were so many memories, good and bad, as she looked around the scene at the Black Lake. It was hard to believe that somebody like Dumbledore was gone.

Finally, the little man in black stopped speaking and returned to his seat. Nobody else moved to make a speech, which Penelope thought was weird, but she suddenly jumped in shock. Bright, white flames had suddenly erupted around Dumbledore's body and the table it laid on. They rose higher and higher until they obscured the body, and white smoke spiraled in the air and made strange shapes. The fire then vanished, and in its place was a white marble tomb, which encased Dumbledore's body and the table he had rested on.

A shower of arrows then soared through the air — the Centaurs' tribute. The Centaurs disappeared back into trees and the Merpeople sank slowly back into the green water and were lost from view.

Penelope, for the first time during the funeral, then looked up at Ron. His face was screwed up like the sunlight was blinding him, but Penelope knew better. She stood up and tugged on his hand, forcing him to stand up as well as everyone else started to talk now that the funeral was over. All she did was hold out her arms. Ron instantly sunk into her embrace, and even though he was way taller than her, he leaned down and buried his head into her shoulder. Penelope held him tight, just like he had done to her so many times.

"I know," Penelope told him softly as she felt a tear drip down her cheek. "I know, it's okay." She sniffled, tears of her own pooling up in her eyes. Penelope turned and kissed the side of his head. "I love you."

Ron let out a quiet sob, making Penelope shut her eyes and tears fall down her cheek. "I love you."

The two of them held each other for more long moments. Penelope didn't want to let him go until he was ready, which seemed to be minutes. Finally, Ron pulled away, his eyes slightly bloodshot and his face blotchy. Penelope reached up and placed her hands on either of his cheeks. She wiped away a couple of stray tears with her thumbs.

"Guys," Hermione suddenly announced, pulling herself out of Elijah's grip. "Look."

They turned. Harry, still with Venus, was currently talking to Scrimgeour, who looked absolutely livid. Together, Penelope, Ron, Hermione, Elijah, and Charlotte, who Elijah dragged away from Neville and his grandmother for the time being, started to approach Harry. They passed Scrimgeour going in the opposite direction. Finally, they caught up with Harry under the shade of the beech tree where they had sat in much happier times.

"What did Scrimgeour want?" Hermione whispered.

Harry shrugged. "Same as he wanted at Christmas. Wanted me to give him inside information on Dumbledore and be the Ministry's new poster boy."

Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before looking down at his girlfriend. "Will you let me go back and hit Percy?"

Penelope let out a small laugh and held his arm a little tighter. "As much as I would like you to, I'd prefer you not."

"Well, damn, I'll do it," Charlotte cut in. "Let me at him."

Elijah sighed. "No, Lottie."

"Aw, come on. It'll make me feel so much better."

Hermione grinned a little, but her smile faded as she looked up at the castle. "I can't bear the idea that we might never come back. How can Hogwarts close?"

"Maybe it won't," Ron replied. "We're not in any more danger here than we are at home, are we? Everywhere's the same now. I'd even say Hogwarts is safer, there are more wizards inside to defend the place. What d'you reckon, Harry?"

"I'm not coming back even if it does reopen," Harry revealed.

"I knew you were going to say that," Hermione admitted sadly. "But then what will you do?"

"I'm going back to the Dursleys' once more, because Dumbledore wanted me to. But it'll be a short visit, and then I'll be gone for good."

"But where will you go if you don't come back to school?"

"I thought I might go back to Godric's Hollow," Harry muttered. "For me, it started there, all of it. I've just got a feeling I need to go there. And I can visit my parents' graves, I'd like that."

"And then what?" Ron asked.

"Then I've got to track down the rest of the Horcruxes, haven't I?" Harry answered, his eyes on Dumbledore's tomb. "That's what he wanted me to do, that's why he told me all about them. If Dumbledore was right — and I'm sure he was — there are still four of them out there. I've got to find them and destroy them, and then I've got to go after the seventh bit of Voldemort's soul, the bit that's still in his body, and I'm the one who's going to kill him. And if I meet Severus Snape along the way, so much the better for me, so much the worse for him."

There was a long silence. The crowd had almost dispersed now, but Penelope knew she would see Nymphadora back home. A strange feeling settled into her heart. She knew what Ron, Hermione, and Venus were going to do — but with horrible clarity, she knew what she had to do.

"We'll be there, Harry," Ron announced.

Yep, there it was.

"What?" Harry questioned.

"At your aunt and uncle's house," Ron continued. "And then we'll go with you wherever you're going."

"No—"

"You said to us once before that there was time to turn back if we wanted to," Hermione cut in. We've had time, haven't we?"

"We're with you whatever happens," Ron added, Venus then saying that she would never leave his side.

"Yeah," Elijah agreed. "Lottie and I can stay behind at Hogwarts, be your inside eye."

Charlotte nodded, but for the first time, she looked a little scared. "I know I'll be a target, since I'm Muggle-born, but maybe they'll be a little easier on me because I'm a Slytherin . . . at least, I hope." She then squared her shoulders. "I can take it. We're here to help, Harry."

"Maybe not me," Penelope cut in quietly. She could feel Ron's gaze on the side of her face, but she ignored it for now. "You know I support you through and through, Harry — but you're looking for objects to destroy that will help you kill Voldemort. I have a very strong feeling that Bellatrix will be watching me like a hawk now that him and his Death Eaters are running free. If she finds out about this plan, she'll kill you, she'll kill me . . . I will help you however I can in defeating this son of a bitch, but I can't go with you on that journey. Let me distract her for now."

"But P, then we'll be apart—" Ron began.

"For months, I know," Penelope stated, feeling herself get choked up — how could she possibly live without him after all of this? "I know I sound like a fucking coward, but there's no way I can do any of this without Bellatrix breathing down my neck."

Ron looked like he wanted to argue, but Penelope sent him a pleading glance. There was no other way.

He finally decided to move on. "But mate, you're going to have to come round my mum and dad's house before we do anything else, even Godric's Hollow."

"Why?" Harry inquired.

"Bill and Fleur's wedding, remember?"

"Yeah, we shouldn't miss that."

Penelope sighed and looked out at the Black Lake. Even through a dark, twisting path, there was still one golden day of peace left, one that she could enjoy with the boy she loved before he would leave her for Merlin knows how long.

☆ 彡

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