petrichor ; harry potter

2.2 | cosmogyral

Cosmogyral
whirling around the universe.

December 30, 2000

Ciana stood in front of the mirror. Looking at herself. At her sickly skin, and hollow cheeks. Her cold eyes were the most noticeable. She was getting better until she wasn't.

She ran her hands through her hair. It was curled, she tried her best to make it look presentable. Her eye bags were covered up with makeup and her chapped lips were covered in lipstick. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Especially with the black dress, she was wearing. It all felt too familiar.

Rebecca's funeral.

Faint memories of that day. Of those months. She wasn't present much during that time. How unlucky could someone be?

She pulled herself away from the mirror and sat on her bed to put her black platform heels on. Another thing to make her feel uncomfortable. It's not like she was going to bury her father's dead body today. Right next to her sister's dead body. Fun, she thought.

She sat there for a moment. Going over the days before. They were filled with tears and screams. Silence, especially. Mrs.Cressida has been planning the funeral, letting her daughter grieve. Ciana felt bad for not helping, but she wouldn't have been any help. Once she leaves to go back to that damned castle, her mother would have time to grieve the loss of her husband. Of her love.

She stood and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before walking out of her room. Her mother had already left for the cemetery, having to make final touches and welcome the people who were invited. Ciana didn't invite or tell any of her friends, she didn't want this to be talked about once she went back. It was only friends of her parents and family.

She Apparated at the cemetery, taking a second to get over the weight of the Apparation, with her loss of appetite, she hasn't been eating. She glanced around, trying to find where her mother was. Once she did, her feet moved on their own accord to where her mother was.

Mrs.Cressida noticed her daughter and immediately excused herself from the conversation. She walked over to her daughter and brought her into a hug, "You got here on time." She sounded relieved.

"Of course I did. I wouldn't miss this."

"Well, come on then," Mrs.Cressida took her hand and brought them over to where her father was to be buried. A sinking feeling resounded around Ciana. People came up to her, gave their condolences, and she would nod with a brief smile. It was all too easy for her, she was too used to it. That shouldn't be normal.

It all happened quickly. In a blink, her mother was moving from her side to give out the eulogy. Ciana watched as her mother stood in front of everyone, wiping at her eyes before taking a deep breath.

"Hello," She cleared her throat, "Thank you for coming, I know it must be out of the blue. It was quite unexpected," Mrs.Cressida took a moment to breathe before continuing, "Dante was the best man I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I still to this day don't understand what made me so lucky to have had him and to have received his love. To be completely honest, I didn't quite like him the first time I met him. He was too confident, and that intimidated me. He wasn't arrogant, but humble. Confident and humble was that man. Everything that he has ever achieved, he has cherished. He always said getting a date with me was one of his achievements, and being able to liv—live every day of his life with me was his greatest one. Giving him a bonus." The crowd let out a laugh, it was good to hear, "Even after everything, every loss, he never let us feel alone. He will never be forgotten, I swear by it, that I will never forget him." A tear fell down her face, just one, even though she felt like letting out hundreds of them. How would she sleep without him by her side, how would she live without him now? She looked out at the crowd, meeting her daughters' eyes. That's how she would live. She would live for her.