Last Legacy - Charlie Weasley

Chapter IV - Rooms and letters

The first time Lya had ever seen a grave was when her aunt passed away. She never believed in spirits or bad omens, but something about death felt unsettling.

Even if the day was quaint, and her aunt laid beautifully in her casket, the then thirteen year old girl knew her life would never be the same.

It had been a summer day, when the ceremony was held. No one wore black, only pink and white, as Pandora would have wanted. They sang songs and lit out fireworks, it was supposed to be a happy day.

Pandora wished for her burial to happen under her favourite tree, a Flora of Saint Helena. The tree stood a few kilometres from Lovegood's home, on top of a mountain. The terrain was just high enough for no brooms to reach, so the only means to get there was walking. Her uncle once told her that it was her aunt's idea. Pandora was so worried in the war that she made sure to keep track of all her friend's wishes for burial. Alya had seen the list once, so she could see her mother's handwriting in her crossed out name. From the five names on the list, only one was still intact: her uncle's.

Pandora and Xenopholius were an odd pairing to most prying eyes, but it was undeniable they loved each other. Pandora, a kind soul, had been very adamant of her parents that she'd choose her husband. It was the only time she ever screamed at anyone, or so Uncle Xeno retold. But even amidst her anger he still thought she was beautiful. He truly loved her through and through. Amidst their grief after the war, losing everyone and everything they'd known, Xenopholius and Pandora Lovegood found solace in each other's embrace.

Alya remembered how her aunt and uncle would dance around the kitchen in the late moonlight, and share small kisses when they thought the girls were asleep. She would tell Luna who could not yet comprehend feelings "see, that's love."

When Pandora wrote her desired resting spot, she knew Xeno would not take her death well. Therefore, she explicitly wrote she wished for it to be the tree that could only be reached by hiking. She wanted her husband to at least get outside to visit her, and he did. Every day, from that one forward, he would wake up at dawn and walk up a mountain to say good morning to the love of his life.

Alya also had memories of after the funeral, but they were vager. She knew Madame Lucy was there, and had talked to her uncle. Two light headed men stood beside one another solemnly, one looked like an actor from a muggle detective movie, and the other like he was badly sick, several scars across his face. She would later know the second one as her professor, the first, never to be seen again.

In all of  the years, her most vivid memory from that day was Luna in her arms crying. The little girl was too sad and hurt to comprehend what was happening. It was the coldest summer's day Alya'd ever witnessed. Blue skies were never comforting from that on.

Now, five years later, she stood at the same spot from all those years ago. In the present, it was raining, and Alya was now 17 years of age, ready to embark on her seventh and last voyage to Hogwarts.

The air was cold and the rain fell strongly on her arms, but Alya did not mind or bother to conjure anything to protect herself. She wanted to feel the wrath of the universe, the same one creating tornadoes inside her heart. Her eyes were swollen with tears, and throat was sore from sobbing. Her cheekbones pressed against her hand, but she was too distraught to even feel the pain.

This visit seemed more ominous than the others. It was the last time she would come to the grave as a student. That thought strained her heartstrings, because it meant she was leaving behind the life she had with her aunt forever. Differently from her yearly routine of going to school and coming back home, she had no memories to know how auntie Pandora would react to anything in her future. She would truly be gone forever.