I stood up, feeling rather weak. I couldn’t help or stop the tears now rolling down my cheeks. We all had tears. Even Ron was crying. We had been filled with tears from the beginning, but this just made them let it out. That’s what funerals were for; letting tears out and mourning. Showing the person that’s died, you really do care. That person we had to show that we care was Harry. My best friend and Ron’s best friend.
I could now feel all eyes on me, but I wasn't nervous. If I weren't so depressed, I would've been nervous.
I stumbled up to the casket, where Harry lay inside under the white marble cover, motionless and dead. I didn’t need a written speech for this. This would come from my heart. I paid my respects to Harry before I started the speech that would seem to last almost forever.
“My name is Hermione Granger,” I started. My voice quivered for all of the tears. I looked out at the crowd that I now stood before. Ron, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, and even Professor McGonagall were all crying. There were many more, too many to count. I remember all the people that would've been here, had they not been taken from Harry's life. There was Sirius, and Dumbledore. And there were his parents too. Everyone. They all are standing in respect for him, for Harry. I continued sadly.
“And… And I am Harry’s best friend, along with Ron.” I nodded towards Ron, who attempted a smile. He failed and ended up looking like an idiot. I started to feel nauseous, not from nerves, but from the sadness that keeps overwhelming me. I still kept going. This is for Harry. That's what kept me from getting sick.
“We all loved Harry. But not all of us could understand him. I’m not even sure I do yet. But someday, I hope that you all take these words to heart, if not now," I paused and waited before continuing, "Harry wanted to be normal. Most of you can think, he is normal. He’s not mental or he’s not deformed or something that would make other people ‘abnormal.’ Truth is, he actually was abnormal. He was always in the papers for something dumb. Everyone wanted to meet him, or shake his hands or get an autograph. He didn’t want the limelight. He didn’t want fame or glory. But it wasn’t his choice. No, he never had a choice in this. But he wanted the choice. He wanted to live a normal life, with a normal family, with a normal home, and”well, like I said”a normal life. We tried to give him that. We tried our best. But nothing could actually change the fact that he was famous. So, give him a last wish. Let him be normal. Don’t think of him as The Boy-Who-Lived that became The Boy-Who-Died. Instead think of the normal boy, Harry Potter, who was deprived of a normal life, and never got it. So give him at least a normal death. Not the Boy-Who-Lived’s death. Harry’s death. Consider him normal. We all love you, and we’ll all miss you Harry. Goodbye.” I looked at the crowd, who was shocked at this strange speech. Even if I tried to say more, I don't think I would've been able to. The lump in my throat was growing larger as the reality of this funeral hit me.
“Thank you.” I managed to squeak, signaling that I was finished. The clapping was quiet, but I hardly noticed it anyways. Instead, I watched the casket.
“Consider it normal Harry.” I whispered to him, the friend I loved. The friend we all loved. He was gone now. We’d never see the face that hardly smiled, that hardly was occupied with something other than worry.
I took my seat next to Ron again. He patted me on the back and whispered, "That was wonderful." I nodded, but I couldn't speak. The tears kept coming to me and they wouldn't stop.
I hardly paid any attention to the rest of the ceremony. Afterwards, I walked to the casket.
“Harry… I”I”” I dissolved into tears again and fell to my knees. I cried for so long. Who knows how long? 5 minutes? 10 minutes? Does it matter? Lost beyond words, I stood up. I looked down at the casket. I read the words engraved neatly on the top.
‘The Boy-Who-Lived.’
I wasn't angry, but I knew what to do. I looked around to see if anyone was looking. People were exiting and I was alone.
I pulled my wand out of my robes and pointed it at the words. I whispered a spell and watched them change.
‘Consider Him Normal.’ It now read boldly.
I was content. I deposited my wand back into my robes and reread the words.
‘Consider Him Normal.’
Everything was as it should be for a normal man’s funeral. For Harry's normal funeral.
“Consider yourself normal Harry,” I whispered to him and walked away with one last glance at the white marble casket.