Seventeen-year-old Lily Potter glared at the dress laid out on her bed. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it — she had picked it out after all — but she wasn’t exactly fond of the reason she had to wear it. Andromeda Tonks hadn’t been what one would call a close friend of the family, as she and Harry had had a fair few battles over a lot of things, but she was Teddy’s gran. Her funeral wasn’t going to be a pleasant occasion for anyone, because she had been the one remaining tie to Teddy’s life.
With a sigh, she donned the dress, which was fittingly all black, as it was the colour she disliked the most, and made the heavy trek down the stairs where her parents and brothers were all waiting. As she’d expected, James was pacing, Albus sitting on the bench next to the door, drumming his fingers against the wood, and her parents in the next room, arguing about something in hushed voices that weren’t quite hushed enough. It was something they’d done a lot since Teddy died.
Eventually, they figured out that they were the ones holding up the trip to the cemetery and came out, Ginny with her jaw clenched and Harry flushed and determined not to look at anyone. No one said anything as they queued up in front of the fireplace, youngest to oldest as they always did. Lily arrived in a nondescript room, which was mostly bare save for the chairs and sofas lining the room, which she had little time to take in before darting out of the way of the grate for Albus, who typically stumbled out of the Floo rather than stepped.
Already, several people were milling about, waiting for the memorial service to start, most of whom were bored enough to mark the Potters’ arrival as a genuine point of interest. By the time Ginny emerged, a couple had already approached. One of the first was Kingsley Shacklebolt himself. The moment Harry emerged, the Minister solemnly shook his hand. “How are you holding up, Harry?”
Using that false mask of calm, almost mirroring the one he’d worn when telling Lily and her brothers about Teddy’s death, Harry forced a smile and said, “Oh, I’m fine. Just bad business, this. Bad business.”
Though Kingsley’s face was measured and blank as usual, Lily knew that he didn’t buy Harry’s nonchalance at all. “Indeed, my friend.” Gesturing toward the restless gathering, he added, “A lot of people have come to show their support.”
Finally, Harry’s façade cracked a bit. “Yeah,” he choked. “I didn’t realise how many people actually knew her. I suppose I just thought of her as Teddy’s gran.”
That statement surprised Lily, since it was exactly how she felt about Andromeda. Granted, everyone was aware of her history as an ostracised daughter of the Black family, but hardly anyone remembered her from then, just as the wife of the since deceased Ted Tonks. She’d never attended any of the gatherings to which she’d been invited, usually saying she was too tired or had things to do that simply couldn’t wait.
The second and third visitors to their party were Ron and Hermione. As Lily had expected, her aunt squashed Harry in a giant hug before making her way through the entire family. Her uncle’s greeting was much more laid back in the form of a slight nod of greeting. It was one of the reasons Lily had usually preferred Ron over Hermione, as he wasn’t prone to public displays of affection.
“Sorry, mate,” Ron mumbled.
“Yeah,” Harry answered.
As Kingsley continued to make his obligatory rounds through the assembled mourners, silence once again prevailed. Lily could see Hermione’s mouth open and close several times, preparing to say something but deciding against it. Ginny simply crossed her arms against the unseasonable draft in the room, and James’s lips were moving soundlessly, likely keeping himself company in a room full of people he barely knew if at all.
It was Albus who broke the awkward quiet. “Ugh, what is he doing here?”
For the lack of anything better to do, everyone within earshot turned to look at the object of Albus’s scorn, and it quickly became obvious who he was looking at. The Malfoys’ presence shouldn’t really have been a surprise, since Draco was amongst the last of Andromeda’s living relatives from the estranged side of her family.
Lily doubted that it was Draco who her brother hated, since they’d never even met as far as she knew, so it had to be Scorpius, the sole Malfoy child. He and Albus had been in the same year, but in different houses. Still, that didn’t prevent Albus from sharing at least one long, sordid story about some damned thing or another, to which no one ever paid attention. She secretly suspected that the dislike was stemmed from Ron’s comments on Albus’s first day at school and was caricaturised from there. Lily had never even met him and only knew him by name and reputation.
But before Albus could regale them once again, an older witch, whom Lily assumed was an employee of the funeral parlour, loudly cleared her throat. Quietly, the procession began filing into the room where the service would be held — the same one that had hosted Teddy’s memorial. That thought brought a chill to Lily’s flesh that had nothing to do with the omnipresent chill in the building.
Inside, there were two columns of chairs split in the middle, giving the room the aura of a gruesome sort of wedding chapel. The front row was typically reserved for the closest family members, but there really weren’t any to be had. Ted’s relatives had not even known Andromeda all that well, Teddy had once said, and she certainly hadn’t been close to the rest of her family. And Andromeda’s mother’s clan, the Rosiers, wasn’t much happier than the Blacks when she married a Muggle-born.
Harry stopped just shy of the first row. Lily knew that her dad was weighing whether he deserved to sit in the front row, and under normal circumstances, she would’ve probably agreed that it wouldn’t have been appropriate. But there really was no one else, and the thought of no one claiming Andromeda as a close member of their family saddened her.
However, when Draco breezed by them, his arm linked with his wife’s and his son right behind, that made the decision much simpler. There was no way that Harry was going to let Draco Malfoy claim the title as Andromeda’s closest family, since he had only spoken to his aunt a couple of times in his entire life as far as Lily knew and likely only at his mother’s bequest.
The wizened old man who was conducting the service had a voice that was oddly incongruent with his towering height, far too small for his gigantic frame. It was more like a croak, and after the first few sentences, drawling out the meaning of death, life, or whatever the hell he was talking about, Lily’s attention quickly waned. To her right, she could see Albus hanging on every word, biting his bottom lip in an effort not to break down like he had at Teddy’s funeral. She doubted he was even thinking about Andromeda. James was half asleep, occasionally jolting back to attention with a start whenever the minister said something at a slightly louder volume. Both Harry and Ginny were staring straight ahead, their faces betraying nothing, but Lily had a good idea what they were thinking. Her dad was doing his best to not look at the casket up front because it made him feel guilty and shameful about Andromeda dying alone, and her mum was probably hoping that she never had to outlive her own children.
Rapidly wishing that the service would end sooner rather than later, Lily’s gaze drifted instead across the aisle to where the Malfoys sat. Draco was on the far end, deep in thought as his eyes bored into his clenched fists on his lap. Astoria had a politely bored expression, not so subtly disguising a yawn. But Scorpius was doing much the same as Lily, perusing the area for something upon which to concentrate. More than a few times, she found her peripheral vision straying due left, if only in curiosity to see if Scorpius had found anything of interest, but he had no better luck in that regard than she had.
After what seemed like hours, the minister began his closing statements at last. They were no more gripping than anything else he’d said, but at least there was a foreseeable end. And when the last sentence finished, Lily had to hold in her sigh of relief. Albus was sitting stark still; James was fully asleep, and her parents were shifting in their seats, looking poised to vault out of their chairs and to the next phase of the funeral at the gravesite.
All at once, the congregation stood and began to file out. As they were the furthest from the door, both the Potters and the Malfoys were the last to leave, and when Lily finally merged into the exiting queue, she found herself elbow to elbow with Scorpius, who wasn’t looking where he was going. When his shoulder ploughed into hers, she instinctually grabbed onto his arm to keep from tipping over into the seating area.
Scorpius looked down at his feet and muttered, “Sorry.”
A flash of annoyance burned in Lily’s gut. He’d almost body slammed her, so the least he could’ve done was act a little contrite. As she steadied herself, though, Albus was gearing up to bend Scorpius’s ear, but before he could so much as squeak out one cross word, Lily narrowed her eyes and hissed, “Don’t even think about it.”
When Albus appeared ready to ignore her, Harry said in a quiet tone that was laced in the sort of steel that brooked no argument, “Time and place, son.”
Grumbling, Albus turned his attention back to glowering at Scorpius and fixedly staying as far from the Malfoys as he could. Before she too resumed walking toward the door, Lily happened to catch her dad and Draco exchanging a look that she didn’t quite understand. However, she shrugged it off and strode forward after Scorpius’s already retreating back, and soon she was next to him again, heading for the exit which was too narrow for both of them to walk through abreast.
Lily had no idea what possessed her to do it, but the second before they were about to pass through the doorframe, she cut briskly to her right, repaying Scorpius the favour by sending him sprawling onto the floor directly behind the last row of chairs. She couldn’t help but think that she was magnanimous in not knocking him into the chairs as he had done to her. And just to punctuate the point she wanted to make, she said in a high, airy voice, “Sorry.” Before he had a chance to respond, she rolled her eyes and darted out of the room.
As she had anticipated, once they were on the grounds, Harry pulled Lily aside, gesturing for the rest of them to go on ahead. “That was uncalled for, Lily. You’re not ten, and I expect better than that from you.”
“But Dad, you saw what he did!” she cried. “He didn’t even care.”
“And if he were my child, he would be getting the same talk.” She opened her mouth to defend her actions, but Harry just curtly shook his head. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. You’re almost an adult, so start acting like one.”
It had been years since Harry had taken that sort of tone with her, and he knew it upset her when he did, but Lily knew it was just the stress of keeping up appearances that made him short with her. “Yes, Daddy,” she said before proceeding once again toward the gravesite, happy that no one had been around to witness her being dressed down like a small child.
Unfortunately, that relief was short-lived. Their delay had only given the Malfoys a chance to catch up, and Scorpius sent her a scathing look, letting her know that he had seen the whole thing. Lily felt her face flush scarlet as she allowed Harry to walk in front of her in case she decided to do something even more childish like sticking her tongue out. When Scorpius followed suit, though, she knew he was mocking her and that it had to stop.
She grabbed his wrist and harshly pulled him to a stop. “What’s your problem, Malfoy?”
“I could ask you the same, Potter.”
Lily gritted her teeth, determined not to let him get to her. “You go around shoving people like a great brute! The least you could do is act like you’re sorry.”
Scorpius snorted in derision. “And I suppose you tackling me was an accident, as well.”
Crossing her arms, Lily said, “That was payback. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.” She turned away from him and back toward the line of people, which was all but out of sight by that point. “Now that we have an understanding, I reckon we should get back. Agreed?”
With a snort nod, Scorpius started back toward his parents, which were the last of the visible funeral attendees. Her hand drifting to her wand in her pocket, Lily briefly toyed with the idea of hexing him but decided against it. She was already in enough trouble with her dad, which would only multiply if Scorpius showed up at the gravesite with boils on his face or anything of the sort.
When the pair of them approached the burial site, though, all of her prior irritation evaporated. Lily felt herself jolted back to six years before, back to Teddy’s funeral, his body committed to the ground mere feet away from the yawning gash in the soil that awaited Andromeda. All of that grief that had assaulted her psyche and gave her nightmares about dying began to loom once more. Was this what it meant to die? To have people yawn at one’s funeral while pretending to pay attention, only to find keeping up appearances more important than to pay homage to the deceased? To intentionally not think about the dead to keep from feeling sick with the knowledge that it would be them some day?
It was simply too much for Lily to process at the moment. Halted just on the perimeter of the gathering, she choked back a sob or two before she didn’t have it in her to fight it anymore. She missed Teddy. She wanted him to come back to mourn his gran like they all should’ve been doing. She didn’t want to be mourned by hollow men with even more hollow respect for her life and experiences.
The hand that lightly touched her shoulder nearly made Lily jump a foot in the air. It was Scorpius, who had likely been the only one who was within earshot anyway, but his look of genuine concern was the most surprising thing. “Are you okay?”
Her lip wobbling, all Lily could do was rasp, “No,” before burying her face in her hands. All she knew was that, when he awkwardly held her to his chest, Scorpius understood.
Just enough.