Around twelve o’clock in the afternoon, Dumbledore came. He looked solemn; he was wearing a set of dark maroon robes and the frown wouldn’t wash off of his face. He nodded curtly to us as we let him enter. James led him to the living room and Dumbledore’s deep, immaculate voice slowly spoke through and bounced off the walls. “I have met and talked with the Order about Mr. Orson. We will hold a funeral for him tomorrow, friends and family only. Members will be patrolling it consistently, making sure that no mischief of any sort occurs.”

“Do you expect any?”

“Well, we’re not sure,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But there’s still that chance that we’re not so willing to take.”

“What’s going to happen if Death Eaters do show up?”

“War,” he said softly. He handed over a piece of folded up parchment and left. “See you tomorrow.”

I unfolded it.

You are respectfully invited to attend the funeral of Mister Nivy Jackson Orson, husband of late Mrs. Sydney Orson, from his late residence, yesterday morning at 8 o’clock.

Funeral services are at the Waycaster Long Church at 10:30 o’clock.

The next morning we all woke up slowly. No one wanted to go; yet at the same time, we did want to be there. It was almost like turning in a paper: you could work so hard on it and want to turn it in just for that reason, but you’d rather just forget it all and not get a grade whatsoever.

We Apparated at the designated area in the church and looked around nervously; not many people were there and the ones that were: we didn’t recognize them.

Remus sighed and I took James’ hand. It was as cold as ice… almost as cold as when I found Mr. Orson…

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind, a task I’d been doing very well for the past few years, and we went to the room where his casket would be placed. The funeral director smiled at us weakly as we went in and offered his “sorry,” which I didn’t really accept, because he most likely didn’t know Mr. Orson or even really care that he was dead. It was just more money for him.

This funeral was a lot different than my great-great grandmother’s, whom I’d only met once when I was six and didn’t even remember. However, I could automatically tell this was a wizard’s funeral; instead of paintings of fruits and valleys, there were moving horses and trees blowing in the breeze. I looked at them thoughtfully before James pulled me to a seat under the ‘Friends’ section.

“James, why are we sitting here?”

“We’re not family.”

“We’re the most family he has; look, there’s not even anyone sitting over there.”

I stood up and a man in a black suit approached us. “Are you Miss Evans and Misters Lupin and Potter?”

“Yes…” Remus said nervously, and I saw him tense up.

“Before Mister Orson died, he instructed in his will a few things, some which will be discussed with you at a later time. However, right now, it was his last words that certain friends of his, though not blood related, would sit in the ‘Family’ section.”

I nodded. “See, James?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I just thought it would be rude to go over there like that. I guess not.”

Then it started. Two slow songs were played that sort of made you think about Mr. Orson; how original he was and how sad it was to see him gone.

Then people came up; a friend talked about the first time they met, another spoke about their times in college; a boy got up and said how one of his Healing potions had saved his life.

The funeral director turned to the family section them smiled down on us. There were now about three other people there, all with tears in their eyes. “Would any of the family members like to say anything?”

Remus stood up. We clasped him on the back as he went up to the podium. “Hi, my name is Remus Lupin. I don’t know any of you, and I’m not really related to Mr. Orson, but I feel I should be. I’ve know him since I was just a kid, when I was bitten by a werewolf.”

A few people gasped, and I actually saw one woman pull her daughter closer.

Remus continued, despite the announced hostile atmosphere. “As many of you know, Mr. Orson… God all mighty, my father, the closest thing to a father I’ve ever had, made many accomplishments in his lifetime. He made a potion to make me reasonable when I transform into a werewolf, so I can understand what’s going on, so I can easily fight the urge to bite people. This potion has helped me so much because not once, not once, have I lowered myself to the level of those who bit me. Mr. Orson taught me how to trust people when those I trusted abandoned me. He took me in a cared for me when no one else would… He helped me realize that what had happened to me… it’s not a problem. It’s something I can learn from and help others with. I just hope you all realize that this man… he’s gone. He was a light of hope in our steadily darkening world, and he’s gone. I just hope that you all have a part of him in you that you can carry onto others.”

Remus stepped down and came back to sit with us. His body was shaking slightly and he had tears dropping down from his eyes. I looked around and saw a few others crying, some just looking sad and murmuring to each other.

“Anyone else?” the funeral director asked, and before I knew what I was doing, I went up there.

“Hello… I’m Lily Evans. Remus Lupin, who just spoke, is one of my best friends. For the past few months, the potion that has helped Remus stay so sane… well, Mr. Orson has been teaching me to make it. When I first met him, I thought he was crazy. He was wearing plaid pajama pants with a purple vest, and bunny slippers like they were the best thing in the world.” A few people laughed, and I was sure that they had known his odd fashion sense too. “At first, Mr. Orson had seemed a little weak… and then I noticed his gold pipe he was always chewing on. I’d asked him a couple of times why he did that, but he never really answered me. Then, a bit before Christmas, which he spent at our house, he told me a secret he’d been keeping. He was dying.”

I saw James’ mouth drop open and a few people gasped again.

“He had two cancers that were taking over his lungs, throat, and mouth. He didn’t tell anyone because he didn’t want anyone worrying. I think he only told me because he wanted to stress the importance of me finishing the potion in time. I accomplished it the day before he died. Now I’ve never met a man who drinks tea late at night or who doesn’t have anyone to spend a Christmas with except for three teenagers, or a man whose favorite colors are lime green and bright orange put together… but I’ve never lost one either, until now. Mr. Orson was ready to die, but I wasn’t ready to see him leave. I’m going to miss his quirky smiles and his over-used phrases such as ‘Call me Nivy’ and ‘Almost, Miss Evans.’ I just pray that, for the sake of you all, you knew him well enough to miss those things, too.”

With that said, I went to sit back with James and Remus, who were both crying softly now.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Lily?” James asked as we walked out to where he was to be buried.

“I don’t think he wanted me to,” I replied, and took his hand. I was relieved when he didn’t pull away. “He didn’t want to be treated any differently by you two. I mean, you were his sons… he didn’t want you to be his caretakers. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t have tried, because you would’ve. He just wanted you to love him for who he was, not that he was dying.”

We were almost to the graves when we were pulled aside by the same man. “I’m sorry to bother you now… but there is simply no other time to address this matter. Please confirm again that you are Miss Evans and Misters Lupin and Potter?”

“We are,” we agreed in unison.

“All right,” he said, and he pulled out a long, rolled up piece of parchment, which he quickly unfolded. Mr. Orson’s handwriting was scribbled all over it. “To Miss Evans… Thanks you for everything you’ve helped me with. I’ve never had a daughter or a woman in my life since my wife died. I learned so much from you as a person. I want you to have one hundred galleons. Put them to good use.

“To James, my son. You are an amazing man, and you will go far. I want you to have all of my books on how to become an Auror. I also give you one hundred galleons. Put them to good use.

“To Remus, my son. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve grown up right before my eyes, and I don’t think you’ve ever known how much I cherished seeing you every month. I give you my twenty acres of land, my house, my plane, and one hundred galleons. Put them to good use.”

The man coughed. “He also has a joined gift: To James and Lily, the future Nivy and Sydney. I give you the house you’ve been residing in. I’ve never seen it in such good hands.”

James and I looked at each other, and all we could do was smile.

“He was an amazing man,” I said. “Scratch that. He is still an amazing man.”

James nodded. “Yeah. But what is this about a plane?”

“Mr. Orson was never one for Apparating,” Remus grinned.

We got to his casket and I let James and Remus go first. After they were gone, I approached it. There he was, lying as if he was asleep. Of course, I could see the makeup, and I could feel how cold he was from were I was standing, but it was kind of nice just to pretend.

“Hey,” I said quietly, and I began to cry. “Thank you for everything. Thank you for trusting me and helping me… thanks for the house. I just hope I gave something back. I love you… Nivy.”

We left shortly after. It was time to go home, pack out things, and return to Hogwarts.