A/N: okay, this chapter is going to have a memory of Hermoine's written in `I' "me" format. Its in italics. I hope its not too confusing. This is the chapter…the funeral. I'm not writing a wake, I don't have the will to write that. Funeral. That's it. R&R
Disclaimer: These characters are strictly JKR's. The plot is mine and is not intended to be remade by other authors.
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
"In the Arms of an Angel", Sarah McLaughlin
For the first time in years, Hermoine slept in. Harry could understand, she'd been to hell and back the past few days. Her mothers death really hit her hard, harder than she would let on. If Harry hadn't known her as well as he had he would have never picked up on it. But he did. When she shuffled into the kitchen at 10:30 a.m, he had a pot of her favorite coffee made and a mug set out just for her. Her breakfast was already made and kept warm by a heating charm. She didn't say much, Harry didn't expect her too. There was silence until the clinking of the fork on the glass stopped and he heard a sniffing.
"What about dad?" she said quietly, head hung and hair draping her face so Harry couldn't see her eyes. "He's still unconscious. What are we going to tell him?" Harry was at a loss for words but that didn't matter as Hermoine kept speaking. "I cant very well march up there and tell him his wife died. I don't think his heart could take it…He's going to find out sooner or later." She said with a dry smile.
"Hermoine…" Harry whispered, grabbing a hold of her hand. She squeezed it back, letting him know she was alright…well, as `alright' as could be expected.
"Harry, your late for work." She said, going back to her breakfast. She didn't release his hand though
"No," he shook his head," I owled my boss. He gave me until Wednesday. That gives me four or five days. I'm gonna be here for you Herms." Hermoine looked at him, a battle of her two sides going on behind her brown eyes. Harry knew she didn't want him to miss work for her, but he knew she also didn't want to be alone. The latter seemed to be stronger and she reluctantly nodded.
"I have to owl-" she began, taking another bite of her eggs.
"Already done. I also got Ginny to bring some stuff over so you didn't have to go back to your flat if you didn't want too. Ron said he'd stop by later for lunch…naturally I had to go to the grocery store to stock up."
"Thanks Harry," Hermoine began, holding his gaze," you've really put up with me. It's-its going to be really hard," her voice was cracking and she was struggling to regain her composure," to see her laying there. There's so much I have to do…plan a funeral and have the reading of the will…"
"All in due time Hermoine. First, you need to finish breakfast." She settled for his reply and went back to her meal. Then her head snapped up and she looked at Harry in alarm.
"What? What's wrong?" he asked, instantly on alert.
"Dad…what if he's not better in time for-" she began, terrified.
"He will be. The doctors said he should be waking up soon." Harry reassured her, squeezing her hand. She seemed to be soothes slightly and went back to breakfast.
The couple days went by all to fast for Hermoine. Her parents lawyer had gotten a hold of her and told her the reading of the will would be conducted Saturday, the day before the funeral. Hermoine also went and visited her dad later that day when he woke up, sheer force of will holding her head high. She refused Harry's insistence that he accompany her, telling him it was something she needed to do alone. He reluctantly agreed but told her he was only a second away if needed.
(memory)
I walked into my fathers room, a private room I had reserved for him, at the hospital. I tried to hold my head high and fought back the tears that rushed forward at the sight of dad beaming happily at me.. I had told the doctors not to inform him of mom's death, insisting that I would do it herself.
"Baby girl." Daddy said, opening his good arm for a hug. I hugged him gently, afraid to hurt him.
"Daddy-o." Smiled, calling him my childhood pet name for him.
"When can I get out? I've been so cooped up in here." He said, shaking the sheets with his hand as if to demonstrate his lack of freedom.
"Soon. Doctors want to keep you for a little longer…just to make sure."
"That's good. They wont let me see Lacey though. Do you know why that is, darling?" Dad asked me as I sat.
"Daddy…" I began, getting choked up already. He knew something was wrong, the last time he saw me cry was when I was four and I had ripped my favorite book accidentally.
"Baby?" he whispered, holding my hand. I looked at it, the I.V sticking into the back of it.
"Mommy…mommy didn't do so well." I said. I guess if I don't actually come out and say `She's dead!' then it may not be true…I wish.
"Is she alright?" He asked, now looking alarmed. I shook my head.
"No, she's not Daddy. Mom…mom died two days ago." I said, tears welling up. He looked at me, shocked beyond belief.
"What?" he whispered, his voice hoarse and his eyes glassy with tears.
"Her heart gave out, at least that's what the doctors said. I was right there with her…holding her hand." And that was it. I couldn't help it. I started crying, so hard my whole body hurt and throat nearly bled.
"Mommy's gone, Daddy, she's never coming back!" I cried, burying my face in his hand. He stroked my hair gently, tears falling from his own hazel eyes. He didn't make a noise, I suppose I was making enough for the both of us. We just sat there, my in hysterics and dad crying silently, as he always had, for a long time.
"You-you know what she said to me, right before?" I said, as my eyes slowly dried even though the burning was still there. He looked at me, the question in his eyes.
"She told me she had a dream…Harry and I were getting married and you were giving me away. She said…she said she wished she could be there." I told him, the last few tears running down my nose. "Dad, it sounded like…she just gave up! Like she didn't want to be here any more." I hiccupped. Dad looked at me, concern etched in every wrinkle in his forehead.
"Honey, she would never give up. Your mother was a fighter and a lover, she loved you more than anything in the world. You have to remember, she wasn't afraid of anything. She once told me that she wasn't afraid of death…It was just like taking a trip to America or something." He chuckled but there was no warmth in his laughter. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "When is it?" he asked. I knew what he meant.
"In two days, the reading of the will is tomorrow." I told him. He shook his head.
"Your mom wants to be buried on a cliff overlooking the sea. She told me the exact spot, its in the will. She wanted to be able to watch time go by but see the one thing that wont change." He supplied.
We talked for a little longer, talking softly of memories we had with mom and sharing a few laughs. When I walked out of the hospital and apparated back to Harry's flat, I felt lighter than I had. I was still upset over mom's death and I wasn't sure I could get through the will reading tomorrow, but I knew at least mom was happy wherever she was."
Harry paced in front of the fire place, dressed in his finest black shirt and black pants. Today was the day, the funeral. Hermoine's family had sorted the majority of the paperwork out so all Hermoine had to do was show up. Harry, Ron, Ginny and the rest of the Weasly's (except for Bill and Charlie, who couldn't get off from work) were going to meet them at the funeral home.
Hermoine told Harry that her mother's will insisted on a semi-formal wedding, no suits required. So, Harry and the majority of the gentlemen would be showing up in near identical outfits. Hermoine, on the other hand, spent much more time picking out a black dress she could wear. Harry had to admit, when she descended the stairs, he forgot they were heading to a funeral.
She wore a black dress that hung to her knees. It was snug but not too inappropriate for a funeral. It was a V neck with no sleeves. Nice and simple. Harry noticed she pinned a tiger lily to her right strap.
"You look beautiful, but the flower…?" Harry asked, helping her down the last step.
"My mothers favorite flower was a Tiger Lily. She said it represented fierceness and love at the same time, two opposites. I thought it would be fitting." She said, fixing the flower some more.
"Perfect." Harry said, smiling at her. He handed her coat as they headed out the door to the limo that awaited them downstairs. Hermoine would be riding in it with her aunt and father. Harry was driving his car with Ginny and Ron.
The funeral was set up on a cliff overlooking the ocean, just like Hermoine asked. Her mothers coffin faced South, where warmer weather was (Lacey preferred heat to cold any day). Hermoine had been asked to give the eulogy. Harry looked at her, so poised and composed standing at the podium. He knew she couldn't keep up the façade for very long.
" My mother, Lacey Rose Granger, was a simple woman. She loved her family, her books, her career, her life with all she had. There was never a dull moment with her. She didn't ask for much but gave all she had. She did her best to keep me as happy as I could be.
Mom didn't have a hateful bone in her body. She loved everyone and everything equally. What happened to her was tragic, an accident that couldn't have been avoided. She was ripped from us to early for all of our liking, but I know that she's happier now." There were sniffles coming from the audience. Hermoine's voice cracked now and again but overall she was doing marvelously in Harry's opinion.
"I was with her when he passed away. I remember what she told me, not in words but in meaning, and I want to share it with you. Everyday when I was little, my mom would tell me a bed time story. My favorite was about a princess and a goat. I'm not going to bore you all with the story, but I'll tell you the bare meaning at the end of it. Give what you can without expecting anything in return. Knowing my mom, she would be happy if we all listened to what she had to say and put it to good use at least once in our daily lives. All I ask of you is just to…remember her. Don't weep for her, celebrate her memory, as she would have wanted it. Thank you." Hermoine said. There was a loud applause, accompanied by sniffing and some sobbing from women in the back. Hermoine took her seat next to Harry, the wind biting into her. Soon, the pastor called for the assembly to stand and lay a flower on top of the casket before it was lowered into the ground. Harry watched as the Weasly's trailed solemnly behind Hermoine's aunt and uncle. Harry walked in front of Hermoine who trailed behind with her father. He rested a single white lily on top with various colored roses and carnations. Hermoine let a tiger lily rest against his flower as Mr. Granger put three roses, a white, red and yellow one, in the middle. He rested his hand against the cool wood and bowed his head, weeping openly. Hermoine knelt next to him, her small hand on his and rested her head against his, crying with her father. Harry stood next to Ron, not quite sure knowing what to do. The weeping pair hugged each other when they seemed to have cried for the last time and stepped back. Hermoine took her place next to Harry who wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. Her left hand was cradled in her fathers as they lowered the casket into the ground. The group slowly dispersed, men and women walking back to their cars to head to the hotel Hermoine's family reserved for the `remembrance' party as Mr. Granger insisted on calling it. Hermoine stood there, staring motionlessly at the casket that was slowly being covered in dirt, her family on both sides of her, comforting her as she watched her mothers body disappear from her sight for the last time. She wouldn't cry, knowing that Lacey wouldn't have wanted it, but her body shook. Not from the biting wind or the stinging spray of the sea as the wave crashed angrily far below them, but from the fact that she would never have her best friend back again, and for that she truly grieved.
A/N: Well, I hope you all liked it. It was four pages of small font. From here on out its going to get happier and less gloomy than it has been, I promise. The tough part is over. Remember, at the end of this fic its going to be the happiest part. Kind of going from one extreme to the other. Any way, please review! I got only a few reviews last chapter, I want at least four before I write up the next one. Please, it really doesn't take that long. A review a day keeps the doctor away.
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