Confident | Fred Weasley

Chapter 90 | Funeral

Dumbledore's funeral took place at the beginning of July. Fred, dressed in his dragon skin jacket and Sarah, in a black dress, apparated to the outskirts of Hogwarts together.

The weather was lovely, with blue skies and a gentle, summer breeze. It felt odd to be attending a funeral when the weather was so nice.

With a crack, Capri and George appeared behind them. With everyone there, the group began the trek up to Hogwarts castle.

They arrived at the Black Lake, where a large number of chairs had been set up. They found Mr and Mrs Weasley sat in second row, both of whom greeted the group with sad eyes. Sarah was sat between Mrs Weasley and Fred, facing away from the black lake, which glittered in the summer sun.

There were plenty of other people there, too. Madam Malkin from Beauxbatons, a handful of people from the Ministry, faculty members from other schools. In the distance, marching from the castle, were the Hogwarts students and staff. Leading the group was Headmistress McGonagall, looking forlorn. She even saw Rita Skeeter with her notebook in hand, Cornelius Fudge with his bowler hat in hand, and Dolores Umbridge with a velvet, black bow on her curls.

Everyone was sat, with McGonagall at the front beside Rufus Scrimgeour. There were a couple more minutes of whispers and quiet chatter before something strange happened.

Sarah heard music. It was strange, otherworldly music that Sarah couldn't understand a word of. Sarah craned her neck and peered over the person sat behind her, seeing where the music was coming from.

"The merpeople," Sarah gasped, and Fred craned his neck to get a good look.

The merpeople, with their pale faces and purple hair rippling in the water, floated near the top of the lake. Sarah listened attentively to their mournful tune, the sound carrying beautifully across the lake and the grassy banks. Their lament reduced the crowd to silence.

Hagrid, carrying Dumbledore's body wrapped in an ornate and purple cloth, walked between the aisle of the chairs. Sarah bowed her head respectfully, beginning to hear cries amongst the crowd. Hagrid placed Dumbledore's body on the table at the front and turned away, tears rolling down his cheeks.

A man from the Ministry read the eulogy, and Sarah felt Fred grasp her hand. She nodded at him, squeezing his hand gently.

After the eulogy, Dumbledore's body was suddenly encased in white flames. They burnt brightly for a while but then died down, leaving a white marble tomb. It was such clever magic, and Sarah wondered whether that was Dumbledore's idea.

Sarah gasped, flinching as arrows flew in a dome over the sky. The Centaurs had been stood at the edge of the forest. With the eyes of the crowd on them, they disappeared back into the leafy trees. Similarly, the Merpeople returned to below the water, sinking below its unknown depths.

With that, the funeral was over.
  
  
 
Everyone returned to the Burrow for lunch upon Mrs Weasley's insistence. The sitting room was eerily quiet, despite so many people being there. To escape it all, Sarah hurried off to change out of her funeral clothes. She had brought a T-shirt and jeans to keep her cool in the hot weather. Her black dress was lovely, but it was too warm to wear it.

She got dressed in the bathroom, sliding the dress off as soon as she locked the door. The black fabric pooled at her feet when Sarah caught sight of herself in the mirror. On her chest, partially hidden by her bra, was a jagged scar. She ran a finger over the raised skin, a frown on her face.

The night after she had died, Fred pressed kisses all over that scar and told her how much he loved her. The scar didn't bother her so much. It was proof that she had made the revival potion.