Chapter 282 - Rosier Wake (1/2)
The pureblood families had evenly split themselves evenly between attending the wake of Abraxas Malfoy and that of Rosier Sr.'s son, T. Rosier. The Minister of Magic had kindly offered the Auror services to be used during both services. And had been offered to the Prince's as well but had been formally declined.
The Rosier family home was quite different from the grandiose manor of the Malfoy's. For one the Rosier home was much smaller and simpler. There were sharp iron black gates that surrounded the entire property with a wall of pine trees blocking the view inside.
A pebbled trail leads the way inside past pine-filled grounds until a large open space opens up to reveal the dark hall. The Rosier home was gothic-styled to say the least. Much more reminiscent of the gothic era with snarling stone gargoyles and black turrets.
Unlike the times before, both on front of the stone steps and inside Auror's patrol the area. They are rather alert and keep their hands on their wands. And any guest that seems suspicious is immediately either pulled to the side to be searched or kept a stern eye on.
The guests entering the manor solemnly gave their condolences and it was not just pureblood families but members of the Ministry of Magic as well. The Minister of Magic Eugenia Jenkins had been present earlier but had since left to attend the Malfoy wake. All the guests wore a black ribbon tied around their arm signifying their acknowledgment of the mourners.
The front doors of the Rosier home are wide open as the stout, tearful Mrs. Rosier tried to greet the guests with an even tone of voice. Credit had to be given to her that despite her immense sorrow, she managed to keep her voice from trembling. But her sorrow could not be hidden as moisture always filled her eyes and every now and then she'd dab the corner of her eyes to dry the tear that had gathered there.
Hanging behind the black-dressed Mrs. Rosier on the front door is a wreath of laurel and yew tied with black ribbons to signal that a death had occurred. Even the doorknob had a neat black ribbon tied around the door handle to point at the deceased young, unmarried age.
However, Rosier Sr. was someone who all the guests briefly greeted, before hastily moving on. It was not the guest's intention to be rude, but the murky eyes of Rosier Sr. are bursting with rage. There was a bloodthirsty air about him that he made no attempt to hide whatsoever. Rosier Sr. was out for blood.
Inside the Rosier home, the wake much followed in the Victoria era traditions. All the clocks in the house had been stopped at the hour which T. Rosier had died. All the curtains were drawn closed and mirrors covered. Family photos and portraits of the deceased were all covered for the moment. His image would only be uncovered once his box was closed and the coffin had left head-first.
The pallbearer's, family members and close friends would carry the coffin via procession to the waiting funeral carriage that would take the body of young T. Rosier to his final destination. In the procession of carriages that would follow after in the first carriages would be the direct family members of the deceased and so forth.
At present in the front hall, the open casket held the deceased body of the young T. Rosier, who solemnly lay in black robes in his coffin. Wreaths of flowers surround him as well as those placed inside his coffin by the mourners. His eyes are closed, and his skin is deathly pale. And there is no doubt in anyone's mind that the boy had died far too young.
The burly man with angry eyes, Rosier. Sr. gestures at three other men that are present to follow him. Rosier Sr. finally excuses himself much to the relief of everyone else. The guests dressed in mourning quietly whisper and the purebloods tactfully remain somewhat shamefaced. Those that knew exactly who Lord Voldemort was would never confess to knowing so now. They all knew that the first one to speak would become the Ministry of Magic's scapegoat. They all knew better than to do so.
The first man to enter Rosier Sr.'s study is a sharp-faced man with a widow's peak much like his son, Avery Sr. Behind him is the shorter masculine form of Nott Sr. and that of the handsome still somewhat golden-haired man despite his years, Mulciber Sr. The last one of them to enter Mulciber Sr. closes the study door behind him.
Four of the original Knights of Walpurgis had finally gathered once again. The fifth knight was lost to them, Lestrange Sr. having died several years ago. And the sixth, Antonin Dolohov still served as the head of their knighthood so to speak for the half-blood Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Rosier Sr. has his back turned to them as he stares at the softly burning fireplace. Despite the warmth of the flames, the room feels very cold. It was though an impregnable chill had descended onto the room.
The thinner Avery Sr. narrows his eyes and says, ”Well, Rosier? What is it?”
”Will you still side with him?” Rosier Sr. icily asked. It was rather ironic really for one of the most loyal friends of Riddle to suddenly turn away. But life is full of nasty surprises that way.
Avery Sr. presses his lips into a flat line and says, ”I've pulled away ever since the revelation of his being a half-blood. I still retain some ties with him, but beyond that, no. I've not lent a hand of aid since then.”