Chapter 283 - Three Funerals

The day of the funerals was rather solemn as the masses gathered to witness the funeral of Abraxas Malfoy and that of T. Rosier. Lucius Malfoy was rather pale and wane in stark black as his newly wedded wife clasped his hand. The day strangely enough was rather sunny with blue clear skies as if in ironic contrast to the solemn event that was taking place.

The pureblood graveyard was rather silent except for Mrs. Rosier, who loudly wept as she clung to the figure of her large husband. At their side are their two remaining children, a nine-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter. The two children understood that their brother was dead. They'd swiftly come to understand as neither of them had been present at the Wedding being too young to attend.

The wizard clergy member stepped forth and began the solemn ceremony. If the clergy members words brought those in mourning any comfort it went unnoticed as their faces did not change. However, it was only the start and the ceremony would last for some time, before those that knew them came up to speak including family members. And not to mention the Minister of Magic Eugene Jenkins who would speak at the end.

Elsewhere on the green grassy lawns of the Prince Manor, Reginald Prince solemnly carried the corpse of his wife wrapped in a silver sheet. Behind him trailed the pale figures of Georgine, Rowan, and Severus. Dressed in solemn black, they followed in Reginald's steps and tossed white flower petals on the ground as was tradition to do so in the wake of the deceased.

Behind them came the Verninac members, who were also dressed solemnly in black began to ring the small bells in their hands as if saying goodbye to the ceased. The Verninac cousins did not resemble Sirsa or the twins very much with the exception of their dark hair and pale complexion.

Beyond that, the Verninac relatives were rather fair and charming much like the Parisians usually are.

Among the Verninac's were a few weeping male and female cousins, who'd been once been very close to Sirsa in their youth. One of them, Noebella, an older woman with salt-peppered hair and clear eyes tries to stifle her sobs as her husband wraps an arm around her waist.

Sirsa and Noebella had been very close once as they had attended Beaxubatons together. But Sirsa had married an English wizard and she had married, Victor Dubois, a French wizard. And though they kept in touch via letters it was never the same. And now it was much too late, they'd never have a chance again to speak face to face. Unable to stand the pain, Noebella hides her face in her husband's dark robes as he steadies her as they continue forward.

Trailing behind the Verninac's are Dawn, Tadbey, and the rather quiet Laldey, all in black. It was uncommon for a house elf to attend their master's funeral, but the Prince's weren't quite like any other family. At the house elves' side is Sir Knight Prince as his ghostly form glistened in the sun.

Everyone comes to a halt as Reginald Prince tenderly and with great care lowered his wife on top of the pyre. A gentle breeze began to brush their cheeks as if to dry the mourner's tearstained faces. The white petals that been tossed on the ground began to flutter around them as if to say that she was there with them.

Clearing his throat, Reginald steps back and turns to face the crowd. "My wife, Sirsa Prince, was a loving wife, mother, and grandmother. She was brave to the end much like she'd always been. I will forever be grateful that she chose to spend the time that she had together with this unworthy old man," Reginald paused unable to control his voice.

After what seemed like many minutes, Reginald said, "And for that, we shall always remember her."

Sir Prince Knight strides forward and comes to rest next to Reginald. Reginald moves aside as Sir Prince Knight begins to sing of soft goodbyes. Sir Knight Prince's voice rose higher and higher as each one of the mourners came forth and placed a flower on the pyre. As the last of the mourners finished, Sir Knight Prince's voice trailed off as Reginald pointed his wand at the pyre.

The pyre burst into flames and unlike normal fire, this one consumed the very bones and flesh. Despite the heat of the fire, the fire did not escape the wooden pyre and within minutes there was nothing but ashes not even bones. In silence, they all waited for the ashes to cool until at last Reginald was the first to grab a handful of ash.

"Ashes to ashes and dust to dust," Reginald murmured. "May we meet again in the next life in that which lies beyond."

Tossing the ashes into the air the cool breeze carries the dust away as one by one each of them comes forth and does the same until all the ashes are gone. The Verninac cousins understood the purpose of burning the corpse to ashes. Once necromancy had been a tool to cause pain via the tomb raiding of enemies to create forbidden things included using the dead flesh of one's enemies.

Many purebloods no longer practiced the wise old tradition, but the Prince's had never forgotten their roots. And though indeed there were gravestones to visit, they were simply markers to mourn the deceased. For no, body ever lay beneath the stark ground.

The Verninac cousins muttered their quiet, tearful goodbyes as Dawn and Tadbey escorted them to the main hearth to floo back to their hotels. They understood that this was not the correct time for them to give their condolences. And the Prince's preferred to lick their wounds in private. There'd be plenty of other times for the Verninac's to do so.

Inside the Prince manor, everyone sat in the dining room. No one spoke nor touched the food that had been placed before them by Dawn. Reginald finally glanced up from his own reverie and took his silver spoon. "Let us eat," Reginald hoarsely said. "Eating is for the living."

Georgine took her cue from her brother and slowly took a sip from her bowl of soup. Rowan was next and to her utter surprise, she found that she was hungry. Seeing Severus refusing to eat, Rowan places his spoon into his lap. Severus stares at Rowan with angry eyes. "Starving ourselves will not bring her back," Rowan simply said.

Severus looked as though he wanted to punch her in the face, before limply falling back against his seat. "I know," Severus whispered through clenched teeth.

"We all do," Rowan quietly said. "Grandfather was her husband, Aunt Georgine was her sister-in-law, and we are her grandchildren. We all loved her in our own way, very much so."

Severus bitterly says, "But mother didn't even come."

There is a long pause of silence as the dining room becomes still once again. "She wasn't formally invited," Georgine finally croaked not daring to glance at her brother at the present moment. She could feel the waves of cold fury pouring off of him.

Even if Eileen hadn't been formally invited to the funeral, she was more than welcome to attend. Eileen was their only daughter and would have never been stopped for attempting to mourn either of her parents. But Eileen had not come. And for that, neither she nor her brother would ever forgive Eileen. From this day forth, Eileen was as good as dead to both of them forevermore.

After a moment, Rowan softly says, "Some things are much more complicated than they intially seem."

Severus clenched his spoon that much tighter in his fist in response, and stubbornly digs his spoon into the soup and began to eat. They all did frankly as for better or for worse, they were all fueled by something that was not sorrow. And sometimes that is better than feeling the bleak emptiness from within.