Black Truth [READ DESCRIPTION]

chapter thirty-three

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Ties that Bind

"But I don't understand why it's taking so much of his time to organize the funeral. Isn't that what the people he writes to are supposed to do?" Harry mused, sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room opposite Ron and Hermione.

"Well that depends on what kind of a funeral he is going to give his father," Hermione replied crisply.

"Huh?"

"Well, most of the ideas that you and I would have of funerals are more muggle than wizard," Hermione explained. "As muggle-borns began to filter into the Wizarding World, they brought their traditions with them. So the older wizarding families, like Ron's, would probably stay with the strict wizarding traditions."

"So what's the difference?" Harry asked, looking to Ron.

"It's a family thing." Ron shrugged. "Only relations can attend. And then they bury the guy."

Hermione sighed. "What he's saying is, that in ancient wizarding customs there's no wake and no 'funeral' in our sense. Just the burying part, if you want to think in muggle terms. The family members meet at the house of the… person who just died, and they process to the family graveyard or mausoleum. Only those related by blood can then enter the place where the body is going to be buried and… bury the body."

"What's probably taking all of Malfoy's time is fighting everyone who wants his dad to have a more modern burial, with speeches and stuff," Ron mused. "But if there's any family that will stick to tradition like that, it would be the Malfoys."

But Harry didn't process Ron's words, thinking instead of how Hermione had described the burial process. "I'll see you later I have to go talk to Draco."

As Harry hurried out of the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron frowned. "What's he upset about?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied.

Harry stormed through the portrait hole, ignoring Medusa's ranting, and headed straight for the bedroom where he knew Draco would still be working on something. The blond didn't even look up when Harry entered.

"I'm not letting you bury your father by yourself."

Draco paused in what he was writing and looked up at Harry. "This is not up for discussion."

"Bloody hell, Draco, it's not damn healthy what you're doing! Your father died three days ago and all you've done now for two days is push people away."

"There is no other Malfoy family. I will deal with it." Draco began to write again.

Harry glared at Draco across the room for a minute and the blond ignored him. "I'm family," Harry hissed.

The quill shook in Draco's fingertips. "What makes you say that?" the blond asked in a strained voice.

"Your father was a Veriae. You are a Veriae. I am your Veriae bonded. That makes me family, doesn't it?"

"Not by blood."

"Doesn't matter. I can still walk with you, can't I?"

Draco sighed. "You're not going to leave me alone until I agree to this, are you?"

"No."

Draco rolled his eyes and muttered, "Bloody Gryffindor," under his breath before looking up at Harry. "Fine. You can walk with me."

Abandoning his homework for his own sense of urgency, Harry headed for the library the first minute he could after classes had ended for the day. Harry quickly realized that he had no idea where one would store the kind of subject material he was looking for in a library setting, and therefore had to turn to Madam Pince for help. She looked rather surprised when a young teenage boy, Harry Potter no less, asked for where one would find books on wizard etiquette, but she gave him directions to a remote corner of the library and two hours later Harry found what he was looking for.