The Big Dipper

The Funeral

Ursula did not want to go to the funeral.

Walburga Black died March 10th, 1985. Her funeral was held four days later.

It made her nauseous just to think about it. In the days leading up to it, her hands grew twitchier, she ate less, and she couldn't sleep. The morning of the funeral dawned behind cloudy skies. Ursula could barely keep her breakfast down. It wasn't out of an abundance of love for her great aunt that Ursula did not want to go; it was out of terror. She did not know what she was so afraid of ー her aunt was dead, after all.

"I don't want to go," whispered Ursula, tugging on her aunt's hand, now more frantically as the event drew nearer.

"I know dear," replied Narcissa. She could tell her niece was acting peculiar, but there was little she could do about it. "Stand up straight."

"It's time!" called Lucius from the front hall.

When they arrived at the cemetery, there were perhaps a dozen relations already there. It was located in a little wizarding village on the outskirts of London, and was solely for the Black family's use. Ursula and Draco stood dutifully beside Lucius and Narcissa as funeral attendees expressed their sorrow over the loss of Walburga. The deaths of her husband and son in the same year, followed two years later by the imprisonment of her other son ー disowned or not ー had proven quite a shock.

"Lucius, Narcissa dear, how lovely it is to see you. So sad it had to be under the circumstances." The sympathies were expressed by a severe old woman in a pointed witch's hat, who nevertheless appeared rather springy for her age. "Of course, my niece's temperament was what we all thought would get the better of her in the end."

"Great aunt Cassiopeia," said Narcissa. "This is my son, Draco, and my niece, Ursula."

"Of course, my namesake's daughter," said Cassiopeia Black, bending down to look Ursula in the eye. "How do you do?"

"Ursula, say hello," said Narcissa, but Ursula said nothing. She had gone pale and rigid.

"It must be nerves, the poor dear," said Cassiopeia, standing back up. "Never you mind. Bring her round for tea sometime. I daresay I don't get out much, but I can still entertain."

Her voice faded away to background noise as Ursula stood frozen. Cassiopeia.

Memories flashed through her head of a funeral held in the summer, much smaller than this, the body of the deceased covered by a sheet, black hair that had been cleaned of blood poking out... her mother. Her mother had been buried here.

Ursula had blocked out the memories of her mother's funeral without realizing. She assumed they had simply been forgotten, as she had only been two at the time, but no. Here, now, at another funeral in the same place, greeted by a relation with the same name... the memories came back. The pieces fell into place.

Dimly she was aware of being led to her seat. She tried to focus, focus on the elderly wizard speaking in front of Walburga's coffin.

The funeral was small, with half a dozen attendees. The sky was dotted with clouds. The eulogy came from a witch with soft brown hair. She cried the whole time. Ursula stood at Narcissa's side. She couldn't take her eyes off the coffin.

The elderly wizard's speech was long. Disconnected phrases floated over her. A great mother... a perfect daughter... missed dearly by her friends and family.

The witch finished speaking, and was embraced by a fair haired man who held her while she sobbed. There were others who spoke. A young man in a leather jacket, tie askew. A tall man with brown hair and a strange accent.

The wizard invited them to stand and approach the coffin. Narcissa beckoned her to follow. Ursula didn't move. Lucius took her hand and guided her up, giving her a gentle push forward. Ursula took a reluctant look.

Someone led Ursula forward, setting her on a stool. Her little hands gripped the edge of the coffin. Her cheeks were wet with tears. She looked in, at the body covered with a sheet. There were some things magic could not heal.

Ursula gripped Lucius's hand tightly. Walburga looked more peaceful in death than she ever had in life. Her eyes were closed. Her hair was neatly styled. Her hands lay clasped on her stomach. Ursula reeled back.

Only her mother's face could be seen, eyes closed. Her expression was serene. She hadn't died that way. Ursula touched the pearls hanging around her own neck. Her mother's pearls. She cried harder. She called for her mother without an answer.

Ursula could barely breathe. Lucius pulled his hand away with a gasp. She caught a glimpse of angry red burns. There were other people waiting now. Narcissa gripped her shoulders and steered her away. She said something to Lucius, who nodded.

Narcissa tried to lead her away, but she wouldn't leave her mother. Ursula was aware of someone screaming. She realized the screams were her own. She couldn't leave her mother. Strong hands picked her up, carrying her away, even as she screamed and cried.

Narcissa waited with the other relatives next to the grave. Orion Black was buried on the left. Regulus Black was buried on the right. Ursula stared at the names. She knew her mother was buried nearby. Lucius Disapparated with Ursula and Draco, taking them back to Malfoy Manor. Ursula stumbled as her feet hit the ground.

A man's kind face came into view as he set her gently on the grass and knelt in front of her. His eyes twinkled, though he looked sad. He hugged her as she cried, cupping her head in a calloused hand.

Her uncle didn't stop her as she ran upstairs to her room. She shut the door behind her. Ursula kicked off her shoes and climbed into bed. She picked up her little stuffed bear. Her mother had given it to her. She clutched the bear and started to cry.

"Oh little one," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"Ursula darling?" It was Narcissa, knocking softly on her door. Ursula didn't know how long she had been crying. "May I come in?"

"I ー want ー my ー mother!" gulped Ursula in between sobs.

Narcissa entered the bedroom and joined Ursula on the bed. She held her, running her fingers through her hair and murmuring soft words. Narcissa knew taking Ursula to the cemetery where her mother had been buried was a risk, but she didn't expect her to remember. She didn't know if Ursula even remembered her mother's funeral.

When Ursula stopped crying, Narcissa suggested she take a nap. Ursula had missed lunch and hadn't eaten much at breakfast, but she insisted she wasn't hungry when Narcissa offered to send up a sandwich. As Narcissa closed the door she heard Ursula sniffle. A pang went through her heart.

"What did the solicitor say?" asked her husband when she came back downstairs, purposefully avoiding talking about their niece. "About the entail. Who inherits from Walburga?"

"The entail cannot be changed," said Narcissa. "Sirius is the eldest son, so he inherits the property and his father's money, whether he is in Azkaban or not. But Walburga divided the fortune her parents left her among my father, myself, Bellatrix, and Ursula."

"So Ursula inherits again," remarked Lucius. "How is she? What happened?"

"Something triggered memories of her mother," said Narcissa. She was tired. It had been a long day. "Is your hand okay?"

Lucius held up his hand to show he had healed the burns. "It was strong for a burst of accidental magic. We'll have to tell Madam Tripe so Ursula can learn to control it."

"I think," said Narcissa slowly, "that Madam Tripe is not the answer."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I believe it's time for Ursula to meet her father."