บท 38: The Black Funeral
As winter gradually approached, Draco's great-grandfather's (from mother's side) health declined more and more. Finally, at the beginning of December, Pollux Black left the world of the living.
On the day of his funeral, the Malfoy family arrived at the Ancestral Black Family's Graveyard wearing black robes and with suitably sad expressions on their faces. The weather reflected the occasion very well - the day was gray and dreary, with an occasional drizzle from the sky.
After greeting the relatives and offering condolences, Draco separated from his parents, who were busy talking with Ministry officials and other important guests.
Despite the fact that not that many people were related to (or even liked) Pollux Black, he had been a well-known and respected man. After the announcement of his death in Daily Prophet, half of the Magical World arrived to offer their condolences. The Memorial service's location, which was just beside the graveyard, was overflowing with white flowers. Draco recognized some lilies and carnations, however, many of the plants were unfamiliar to him due to their magical nature.
"Draco, my condolences," offered Daphne when she arrived with her family and saw the blond boy sitting at the side by himself, staring at various funeral flowers in a daze.
"Thank you," Draco snapped out of his thoughts and turned to smile at his friend. "Where's everyone else?"
"They should arrive soon," Daphne glanced around uncertainly. They called each other in the morning, arranging to come and console Draco together, but, apart from herself, others were nowhere to be seen.
However, the place was so crowded with witches and wizards, that even if they have already arrived, it would have been impossible to see them.
"Never mind," sighed Draco and redirected the conversation to other topics. He wasn't that distressed over Pollux's death and didn't need his friends' well-intentioned comfort.
Although the mourning guests were supposed to speak about Pollux's life and achievements, many people's conversations eventually diverted from the main topic. Draco met Pollux only once in his life and he didn't feel any particular closeness to the man, so he naturally didn't have anything to say about him - be it good or bad. Daphne was even less familiar with the man - having never met him before.
After fifteen minutes of pointless chatter, Draco grew bored of the conversation and decided to look around. When he looked over to the Black family's side, he noticed that even Pollux's wife - Irma Black nee Crabbe - wasn't particularly sad over her husband's death. In fact, she looked like she enjoyed the attention quite a bit. Important people from the Ministry came and went to offer her their condolences and she stood in the center of the commotion.
As a stark contrast to Irma's indifference, Cassiopeia Black (Pollux's sister) was trying hard to contain her tears. Draco almost couldn't associate this sad and mourning woman with the fierce muggle-hater that he met when he was first introduced to the Black family. Cassiopeia was surrounded by other women, who were trying to subtly uplift her mood by offering comforting words or silly stories about her brother's youthful misadventures.
After an hour of mingling and receiving the guests, the ceremony gradually began. First, the music started playing. It had a magical feel – although Draco didn't see the source of it, the sound could be clearly heard everywhere around the graveyard. The music wasn't overly sad or emotional, however, it brought out the emptiness in people's hearts. Those, who knew Pollux personally, felt a greater sense of loss compared to those, who didn't.
Funerals were just like that – people may not always feel sad over a loss of a person, however, when the mood was appropriate they would still cry that it was unfair and remember the deceased warmly. The previously quite lively crowd was now sad and somber. Some witches were dabbing their eyes with napkins as they cried silently. Even Daphne, who had been unconcerned earlier, had watery eyes. Draco silently extended a handkerchief in her direction without looking at the girl closer. After all, he was a gentleman and it would have been impolite to stare at a girl's tearful face.
The Black family's members and their relatives waved their wands and silky white ribbons flew out, going below the black coffin, where Pollux's body was resting. The coffin was lifted up. It looked as though gentle white waves were carrying the coffin and the mood turned serene. Pollux lived a full life and his death wasn't a tragedy. Rather, it was nature's course - something, that witches and wizards understood and accepted since long ago.
The coffin flew first, while the procession of people silently followed. The line of people, who were all dressed in black colors, was very long, stretching through the whole cemetery. The last journey of Pollux Black, a respected member of the Wizarding World, was solemn and noble.
When they finally reached the place where Pollux would be buried, the coffin was gently lowered onto the ground and the silky white waves vanished.
Every guest, who came to offer their respects to the deceased, took out their wands and created flames, which were directed at the coffin. Draco also joined in – with a quiet whisper of 'Incendio' a white flame ignited in his hands. The blond boy threw it into his great-grandfather's coffin and, for the first time during the whole event, he felt some sense of loss and sadness.
The magical flames seemed to know the intentions of the casters. The fire, which enveloped the coffin, gradually merged and became white. When all of the flames were joined together, there was a sudden flash and the polished black coffin disappeared - it was buried underneath the ground. In its place was a simple black gravestone, mirroring others in the cemetery.
The magical energy, which Draco hadn't realized was gathering, dissipated and the depressing atmosphere was lifted as though it never existed. People, who had previously felt grief and emptiness in their hearts, now felt acceptance.
Finally, one by one, each guest went forward to place a flower onto the ground and quietly left the graveyard. When it was Draco's turn to approach, he walked forward and saw an epitaph on the gravestone:
'Blessed sleep to which we all return'
'Pollux Rigel Black'
Even though no one thought of inscribing these words beforehand, they still appeared on the stone. The sentiments of the people, who gathered here today, were reflected in these few simple words.
'Rest well,' Draco thought in his heart as he turned away.
---
Pollux's death didn't, in any way, affect Arcturus' plans to visit his old friend in Russia. On the 18th of December, the traveling Black family members and Draco gathered in the Black Manor.
Aside from Arcturus, his wife Melania and Draco, Cassiopeia Black and Lucretia Prewett nee Black also decided to join them on this trip. They, as experienced Wizarding World's socialites, were familiar with other countries' families as well, so there was nothing wrong in visiting them for the duration of festivities.
The only thing about this trip, which made Draco regretful, was that he had to leave his familiar at home. Russia wasn't a country where one could show off a phoenix without earning unwanted (and often unwelcome) attention.
In Russia, phoenixes were known as Firebirds. Although they were very coveted and admired by many, they were also often seen as a source of trouble. Firebirds weren't native to their country, so seeing one was akin to getting a premonition of arriving future troubles. As such, many people only wished to obtain the birds' feathers, tears or other things, but never the whole bird!
"All ready?" Asked the Black Patriarch when everyone gathered at the entrance hall with their shrunken and lightened suitcases. After hearing the sounds of agreement, Arcturus activated the portkey:
"Portus activate."
The whole group felt a pulling sensation at their navels. In a few seconds, they reappeared standing at a brightly lit and spacious manor's foyer. Traveling thousands of miles within a few seconds was really more comfortable compared to sitting in a plane or train for hours at a time.
"Dobro pozhalovat! Welcome, my dear guests!" An old gentleman greeted the group with open arms and smile as he descended from a wide staircase. He spoke his native language, which was Russian. As everyone else had no problems understanding it, they all replied in the same way.
"Dmitrij, it has been 14 years, if I am not mistaken!" Arcturus was equally as happy to see the man.
"Haha! It's to be expected – we are no longer young and have our own responsibilities. It's not like the time when you traveled after finishing school, while I accompanied you here and there. Ah, how much fun did we have…" lamented the Russian man with a smile.
Lord Dmitrij Sokolov was a few years younger than Arcturus. However, from his appearance, one would have thought that he was only in his fifties or sixties, rather than almost 100 years old. Wizards aged slower, but this man aged at a pace of a snail!
But, this was to be expected because Sokolov family's talent was related to their longevity. It wasn't hard for them to live out 150, sometimes even 200 years! Even Lord Sokolov's father, the Patriarch of the family, was still alive and happily enjoying his holiday in Australia.
"Ah, charming as always Cassiopeia and the lovely Lucretia. It's been so long," Dmitrij didn't forget to greet his other guests. "Melania, you look well! And this must be Draco, right?"
Draco bowed politely and answered fluently in Russian, "Lord Sokolov, it's a pleasure to meet you. I will be bothering you for the next two weeks."
The man laughed and patted Draco's back so hard that the boy almost fell over.
"Call me uncle Dmitrij, uncle! No need to be so formal. I and your grandfather are old friends. We may even be distantly related – Arcturus' great-aunt is my great grandfather's wife… I think," the man turned silent for a moment as if he was trying to remember the whole family tree. Draco felt that he shouldn't bother – the boy wasn't interested in his ancestry to such minor details.
Lord Sokolov also didn't ponder on the problem for too long. His eyes caught sight of someone else standing at the door and he quickly waved at them, indicating to come closer.
"Draco, let me introduce you to my adopted son, Aleksandr Sokolov. Alex, here, was adopted by me when my brother – his real father – passed away due to some unfortunate circumstances. He will keep you company during your stay. I am afraid that my other son's are too old to entertain you for long!" the Russian man laughed and pushed his son to introduce himself.
"Hello, Draco. I am very pleased to meet you. I heard a lot about you from others," Alex greeted with a polite smile.
Draco closely observed the other boy. They were a bit similar in appearance as Alex's hair was also blond, although it was of a bit deeper color, leaning towards yellow, unlike Draco's platinum hair. The Russian boy's eyes were bright blue. Although he had a smile on his face, those eyes didn't show any emotion and were rather cold.
Draco got chills as he was stared down by this slightly older in appearance kid, who was supposed to stick with him for the duration of his stay.
Despite his uncomfortable feeling, Draco still politely introduced himself, not leaving the other boy hanging.
"You boys can go and look around the manor. Two days later we will have Yule Ball here, so you shouldn't wander in the ballroom, however, everything else is fair game," Dmitrij finally waved the children off and went back to conversing with the adults.
"Come, I will show you where you will be staying," Alex seemed to be aware of his duty and wanted to fulfill it well. The smile which he directed at Draco was calm and never-changing, as though painted on his face.
Draco reluctantly followed the gracious boy, feeling like he was entering a lion's (disguised as a sheep) den.
Couldn't he relax for once?
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง