Chapter 65

"Thank you very much for coming; it means so much to all of us," said Arthur Weasley, shaking Dumbledore's hand. Dumbledore only nodded by way of reply. He was near the end of his strength, the visit to the Burrow being his fourth such call of the day. Ernie MacMillan's family had handled the news with tremendous calm and courage, but after that, things had been much more difficult. Dumbledore's visit to the mother of Marietta Edgecombe had been truly terrible. Mrs. Edgecombe was a widow and Marietta her only child. Mrs. Edgecombe opened the door to her small home, wearing an apron covered with a thin dusting of flour; she had been making a batch of her daughter's favourite scones which she would send with the family's Great Horned Owl the next day. But one look at the headmaster's face had told her all, her expression of friendly greeting changing to one of sick horror as her legs collapsed beneath her. Dumbledore left her in the care of Saint Mungo's. His next visit was to the small hamlet of Ottery St. Catchpole, not far from the Burrow, to give the unfortunate Xenophilius Lovegood the news that his daughter was dead. Dumbledore spent quite some time with the poor man in an effort to console him, but the following day Dumbledore would learn that Voldemort's gang had claimed a final victim, Luna's father having taken his own life. And now it was time for the memorial service for Ginny. It was good that the Weasley clan was performing the service so soon after hearing the news; from his long experience in such matters, Dumbledore knew that the entire family would be living unable to function until the service was said and done.

Dumbledore had arrived late, and the ritual he had come to see was was almost complete. Arthur conjured an extra chair for the headmaster, and he joined the family in the back yard. The chairs were arranged in two horizontal rows facing a small lectern, at which each mourner took his or to her turn saying what was to be said about the deceased. The non-family members were last in precedence, and Dumbledore arrived as Harry, the final speaker, was at the lectern.

Dumbledore cast covert glances at his fellow mourners. Imogen and Hermione were red-eyed, and the younger Weasley boys were faring no better. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked like dried husks, as if when they lost their daughter they had lost their joy in life as well. Dumbledore listened attentively as Harry denoted Ginny's better qualities.

"Another thing about Ginny," Harry continued, "was that her faults did her almost as much credit as her good qualities. More than a few of us felt the power of her Bat-Bogey hex; Ginny when angry was incredible. There is no doubt she belonged in Gryffindor, too. She wasn't just brave: she was fearless. She proved that beyond a doubt in the way she died." Seeing Harry was at the end of his remarks, Arthur Weasley stood, and said, "Harry, I've heard what happened from Ron, but I'd like to also hear it from you. Tell us all what happened, back in the Ministry."

Harry looked out at his audience, and saw the nods. Harry knew that there could be no better tribute to Ginny's passing than to describe the manner of it. In short, simple phrases, unpolished but more powerful in their straightforward sincerity than anything a more practiced but disinterested orator could have said, Harry described the last minutes in the aptly named Death Chamber, ending with Ginny's final, voluntary journey through the archway and into to the void. As the account reached its conclusion, the only eyes not dry belonged to the headmaster. But he was not unaffected.

Dumbledore rose shakily, and would have stumbled had Arthur not seized his arm.

"What's wrong?" asked the eldest Weasley.

" ... Didn't know ... must get back ... Hogwarts..."

Disengaging himself from Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore drew his wand and disapparated.

"Should you not follow him, Arthur? He's clearly not well." Mrs. Weasley thought Dumbledore had looked as confused as her own father in his final days. There was a brief discussion among the older Weasleys about what to do, but it ended with the loud pop of the re-apperating headmaster, his arm intertwined with another who had accompanied him. And this other was a young girl. The girl looked up, and threw back her dishevelled red hair.

"Hi, everyone" said Ginny. She looked around, and then giggled. "I don't shuppose there'sh many that bin to their own funeral." Dumbledore let go her arm, and the girl stumbled. Ginny fell to her knees, and was violently and disgustingly ill.