Bleeding Heart | REMUS LUPIN

Chapter Eighteen

The password to get up to Professor Dumbledore's office was 'Fudge Flies'—the Headmaster had given it to Ivory in a note explaining what would happen on the day of the funeral. Marlene was the one to say the password, uttering it for the gargoyle that stood in front of the passage to the office. The gargoyle then stepped aside, making way for the eight students to enter. A circular staircase, which ascended slowly as soon as they stepped onto it, brought them up to the office.

Ivory was the first to reach the door and knocked three times. It swung open seemingly of its own accord—when she looked inside the office, the elderly professor stood beside his desk, his wand pointed at the door. He had been in the middle of surveying a small trinket through his half-moon spectacles.

It was an office unlike any that Ivory had ever seen. The Headmaster's office was a circular room emitting strange sounds from all corners. The lone trinket that sat on the desk was not the only curious-looking object that the room contained, for it was full of strange silver instruments. Some of these instruments even spewed smoke of different colours. Atop a wooden shelf was the Sorting Hat—seeing this sent a wave of nostalgia through the students occupying the room. On the walls, there were numerous paintings of past headmasters and headmistresses—portraits of them. Most of them had dozed off, or were at least pretending to, but there were a few that were immersed in whispered conversations with each other.

Dumbledore's gaze shifted from the trinket on his desk to his eight students as they filed into his office. As he watched the look of wonder in their eyes upon seeing his office—they had never set foot in it prior to that day—his facial expression softened. He beamed at them, new crinkles appearing beside his piercing blue eyes. He nearly always wore purple robes; however, he wore black that day, which caused his students' eyebrows to raise.

"Good afternoon, Miss Perkins," said Dumbledore with a nod of his head, his bright smile never fading.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Ivory said in response, offering him a small smile. She worried that it was visible she had been crying; but then she realized that it was ridiculous for her to even care that Dumbledore knew she had cried.

Dumbledore walked around his desk and came to stand closer to where his students were. He then addressed the rest of them. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen."

There was an awkward chorus of greetings; Sirius curtsied and Remus whacked him on the shoulder.

The tall, bearded man then turned to Ivory and again spoke to her directly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, bringing her gaze to him. "I would very much like to accompany you to the funeral to pay my respects, however it did occur to me that I would be intruding if I attended."

Ivory's lips parted in slight shock and she looked him directly in the eyes. "Not at all, Professor," she said truthfully. She was touched by his thoughtfulness and did not attempt to hide this, giving him a genuine smile. "I would like it if you came."

"Splendid," said Dumbledore. He then looked out at the rest of them. "We will be arriving by Portkey."

"Is that the Portkey, Professor?" James asked, pointing at the trinket.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "It is rather small for the nine of us, however at most we need a finger on it. Shall we?"

Marlene, Alice, James, Peter, Lily, Sirius, Remus and Ivory all crowded around the desk and reached out a hand, placing one finger each on the odd instrument. Professor Dumbledore circled around his desk and did the same. As soon as he touched it, they were off.

The sensation Ivory experienced was as though she had been yanked upwards violently by something that was hooked onto her. She felt a spinning feeling and looked to her side to see Remus. With her gaze locked on him, she was able to steady herself when she felt her feet touch the ground.

She felt queasy when she was back on solid ground and she was unsure of whether it was due to nerves or the travelling by Portkey. Remus must've noticed, because he fleetingly grabbed hold of her hand in his. As he did this, Ivory's heart leapt—but he seemed to get embarrassed much too quickly when Marlene's eyebrows raised at the pair of them. He squeezed her hand and then let go, disappointing Ivory (though she never would've admitted it with all of her friends there).

Dumbledore whirled around to look at the funeral home—they had appeared directly in front of it. There were a few witches and wizards Apparating around them and then entering; Ivory recognized only two as her parents' neighbours and figured that the rest must have been people who had worked with one of them.

"I'll be going inside," Dumbledore told them. "Do not feel obliged to hang around me, I would not want to burden you with my presence." His words juxtaposed his tone, which remained light and happy.

"Aw, Professor, don't say that!" said James with a smirk. "We love you."

"Oh, yes, I know. I simply feel old standing next to all of you young people," Dumbledore retorted, winking at Ivory. He then turned around, his robes billowing in the wind around him.

"I aspire to be that man one day," said Sirius to no one in particular. "Such good retorts and robes for all occasions."

James grabbed Lily's hand, then said, "Well... whenever you're ready, Ivory."

Ivory looked towards the building and thought about them—her parents. Their bodies were right inside there, through those very doors. They were each in their caskets at the front of the room—she could almost see it in her mind. It made her feel sick. They were so close, yet so far away... gone forever.

"No," said Ivory, biting her nails. "Just go on in without me, I just need a minute."

James shrugged indifferently and tried to walk away, but Lily yanked him back, scowling at him. She smacked him in the forehead with the back of her hand. "Whaaaaat?" the bespectacled boy asked his girlfriend, massaging his forehead with his thumb. "She said she needed a minute!"

Lily ignored him and turned to her best friend. "Ivory, are you—"

"Lily, go in!" Ivory snapped. It came out slightly more abruptly than she had meant it, but she didn't care. She felt like she couldn't breathe and all she wanted was to be alone, just to have a moment to compose herself.

Lily seemed to get the message, for she nodded and backed away, taking James along with her. They whispered something to each other and then he wrapped his arm across her shoulders.

"C'mon, Wormtail, let's follow their lead," Sirius said to Peter. "I'll be James and you can be Lily."

"Why am I always Lily?" Peter demanded.

"Because I can do James better," Sirius said with a smirk. "Just gotta mess my hair up a little and we'll be good to go." He shook his head in an attempt to mess up his silky hair, but it remained impeccable. Then he draped his arm across Peter's shoulders and together, they walked in.

Alice, who had been somewhat quiet all day, was exchanging a nervous look with Marlene. "Ivory, do you want us to stay with you?" Alice asked carefully.

Ivory shook her head profusely. "No. No, no, no," she said too many times. "No, I'm alright, I just... go ahead, Alice. Marls. Go on, seriously. I'll be there in a minute."

As she watched Alice and Marlene retreat towards the funeral home entrance, Ivory's stomach flipped and her breathing became incredibly shallow. She turned to Remus, who was the only one who hadn't left her and was grateful that at least he had remained rooted to the ground, even when she had insisted that everyone else leave. She had wanted him to stay with her, anyway...

Only him.