The following morning, Georgine was glancing at her three remaining family members standing in the front hall to see her off to Hogwarts. Her great-niece, Rowan was yawning loudly causing the dark eyeshadows under her eyes to further peek out. At her side, is her great-nephew, Severus, an arrogant little brat. However, ever since his visit to that Evan's girl, the boy had been unusually quiet. Still, during dinner and this morning, the brat looked much better than before like the cheeky, bugger that he usually was.
Not showing her inner relief, Georgine turns to eye her older brother, Reginald rather carefully and to her surprise found that he looked much older than she remembered. There were new lines carved on his face that she could not clearly recall when they had first appeared. It seemed like time was finally beginning to catch up to him in his elder years.
Pursing her lips, Georgine sniffs and says, "I won't say goodbye, I'll be seeing the two of you soon enough." The twins both make wary expressions causing Georgine's lips to twitch in a tiny smile.
Turning to her brother, Georgine says, "Reginald, I expect a letter each week from you. And I will be writing back, don't you think otherwise!"
"Yes, Georgine," Reginald drily replied to pacify his younger sister.
Drawing herself to her full height, Georgine nods at her family, before facing the fireplace. Tossing floo powder into the flames, Georgine says, "Hogsmeade." Before stepping into the green flames and flooing away.
Yawning again, Rowan struggles to suppress her yawns. Groggily blinking, she muttered, "What time is it? I don't think the sun is even out yet."
"It's not," Severus grumbled. "Last I checked it was close to five."
"Then why is she leaving so early?" Rowan complained. "I thought she wasn't required to be at Hogwarts until this afternoon?"
"Georgine wants to ensure her quarters are perfect and to have a chance to lounge in her new bed to ensure that it is up to her standards," Reginald wryly answered.
Rowan and Severus, both shared a glance that screamed, "We got out of bed early and dressed for this!"
Turning towards his grandchildren, Reginald says, "Since we are all up on this fine morning, let us go and visit your grandmother before the two of you depart for Hogwarts tomorrow."
Instantly the faces of Rowan and Severus grow stiff. They had not had the courage to visit their grandmother's grave since her funeral, the year before.
"Come alone," Reginald ordered leaving no room for any excuses.
Left with no other choice the twins shivered as they walked out onto the still dark lawns of the Manor. In the far-off distance, the sky is starting to turn light gray, but the sun is still an hour or so away before sunrise.
The three of them trotted past the empty stables that are filled with storage items. Past the maze and into the woods. The woods were silent at this hour except for the chirping of insects. They walked down a white stone path until they came to a clearing.
There in the clearing were countless gray stones in a row side by side. There was not a worry of putting gravestones so close together as there were no corpses dwelling down below. They were merely memorials of those that had passed away. The older stones were worn with the passing of seasons. But still, they stood firm and determined against the forces of time.
Reginald led them to the nearest and shortest row where only five stones stood. Reginald pointed at the furthest two to his left. "My grandfather and grandmother, Terance and Regina Prince."
"I am named after my grandmother," Reginald explained. "She died in childbirth giving birth to my father, Rancor Prince."
"Rancor?" Rowan chocked at the name.
Reginald makes a wry expression. "My grandfather was distraught at the loss of his wife. He loved her fiercely and he took his anger out on his newborn son. However, the utter irony is that his son grew up to fulfill his namesake."
Severus and Rowan, both eye each other. They knew a touchy subject when they saw one. And from what little they knew about their great-grandfather, Rancor, he was a cruel, sadistic wizard. They knew better than to ask for more details.
Skipping the third stone for obvious reasons, Reginald points to the fourth stone. "My mother," Reginald softly said, "Amarantha Prince."
"Mother was schooled at home and did not attend Hogwarts. She was rather naïve and lonely and fell for my father's honeyed lies. She married him and came to regret her decision for the rest of her life until the day he took her life." Reginald said lost in thought. "Never marry for sweet words of love and affection, children, they are lies."
Reginald reached into his pocket as he turned to the fifth gravestone. Without the use of a wand nor a worded spell, the shrunken flowers burst forth and return to their original size appearing as if newly blossoming. The violet Irises are magnificent with a delightful fragrant scent.
Reginald gently lays the bouquet at the foot of the gravestone. "Your grandmother loved violet Irises, she used to say the reminded her of maiden home and Beauxbatons. However, I always believed they were a symbolic representation of her. Irises represent faith, hope, wisdom, courage, admiration. Everything that I've always believed of her and still do."
Reginald steps back as Rowan and Severus take a step forward and deeply bow, before straightening back up. Neither of them speaks and merely stands there as if remembering the somber woman. She was serious at times, but she loved them so very fiercely in her own way.
After some time, Reginald says, "I do believe it is time, we go back. Dawn is sure to have breakfast ready by now." With the sky turning gray now, the three of them make their way through the woods back to Prince Manor.
However, the purple blossoms that had been placed on Sirsa Prince's headstone seem to flutter to an unseen wind. A few petals are brushed off the flower stems, before whirling on the breeze and through the trees. They seem to ride some unseen wind and catch up to three figures making their way up marble steps.
The petals flutter about for a moment, before coming to rest on each of the three figures. One or two are caught in hair, another on a sleeve, and another in a collar. The remaining flower petals flutter onto the carpeted floor. They lie still there until a tiny house elf child happily gathers them to show to his mother.