Funeral for the Fallen Fifty
Lizzie was dead. Crushed by a giant. Someone other Hufflepuff needed to recite our passages. Me. I tried not to throw up, or faint and smash my head on the stairs of the smoky, bloody courtyard. I had a concussion, and the smell of burning bodies permeated the air, but my nausea had nothing to do with those things.
“Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
“And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing.
“And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing.
“Love suffereth long, and is kind; love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
“Love never faileth.”
The tears wouldn’t stop. I swallowed, trying my best to clear my throat and maintain my voice above a whimper. My congregation, a crowd of weakened, bloodied and fearful children, listened on. A few cried loudly. A few more stared on with deadened looks in their eyes, shell-shocked.
“But whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
“For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”
“And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these…” I choked up. I thought of Alice, her hair blowing along with the ribbon, eyes wide with fear despite her trying so hard to put on a brace face for us. “...the greatest of magics is love.”
I held my wand up for so long that I lost feeling in my arm. Tears had since dried and then poured again, again, and again. She’s gone, Alice is really gone. I can barely understand it. I’ll never share a butterbeer with her again. I’ll never see her smile, or make her laugh, or hug her. I’ll never kiss her.
“When we look at our reflections tonight,” Ernie, our male prefect, began in a solemn vow. “We will know what we did here, we will be proud of it, because it all came from a place of love. It is pure. We are pure.”
Because what else can a Hufflepuff be but a pure soul?
Ernie reassured us as best he can, but we were all put through a meat grinder and somehow survived. How do you comfort someone after that? How does one move on? He could not provide us with any answers, as they did not exist, but the bloody mulch of a boy said, “Go to bed early. We have work to do at dawn.”
The Hufflepuffs made a huge bed out of the common room. We will all sleep together tonight. It’s not as if everyone would otherwise be isolated, with the communal dorm layout, but the concept of the space between beds was too much for some to handle, including me.
I slept next to Ernie. He hugged me when I cried. Night after night, the pillow forts remained.