Memorial: Jean Snow

[Lucien Snow]

Because the whole Zhefarovich traditions, Jean Snow, his twin and part of a set of quadruplets, was buried in the family tomb, with the official funeral. Jean died in a tragic accident. Worst of all, Lucien had been there to watch the game. Two people down. Lucien was so mad. Jean promised him that he would not make Lucien go through this pain again. Now, here he was, setting up a moving picture of the twins together, with Jean smiling and Lucien pouting, looking like he was being shoved sour milk near him. Lucien knew that Jean touched a lot of people here where he went to school, and hoped that they would honor his memory. Otherwise, Lucien would kill them. Lucien used magic to set up chairs, before finally just kneeling down and resting on the grass. The weather was fair, and there was plenty of space. Candles floated all around, and though he was the host, Lucien didn't know if he could talk to anyone. Avie died a few years ago, and now his brother. Lucien wiped the tears from his silver eyes. This pain was the worst he had ever felt in his life. He didn't mind much when his father died. Avie's death hit him hard. And this was just the nail in the coffin, so to speak. Lucien waited, hoping that he wouldn't have to deal with this again. His mother was not here. She was not able to get out of bed. She hadn't since that news clipping.
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[Emma Fontaine]

Emma Snow could not believe what happened. Her brother was dead. Someone she tackled many times and was not angry at her for her hugs. She loved Jean, and wanted to be like him when she was older. This was not the case. She had a box of tissues with her as she walked and took a seat up front. Tears streamed down her pale face, as she continued to cry. She had no other way to express herself. Emma stopped talking since, and did nothing but grieve. Emma didn't want to talk, because all that would come out would be more sobs. Emma stared at the picture, standing in front of flowers. It was gorgeous, and more so than the funeral that the Zhefarovich family held. She might have had their genes running in her, but sometimes, they were so slow. Emma tried and tried to get her mom to come, but her mom was silent. Silent tears just running down her face. Emma didn't now how to soothe her. Emma didn't know how to soothe her siblings or herself. Emma continued to ceaselessly wipe her eyes, through the tears never stopped. It was useless, but even she couldn't be strong for her siblings.
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[Orwell Brocken]

It had been rather surprising news really for Orwell to receive, mostly it was just so sudden, it hadn't been too long before that he had been at that party with them following graduation and yet now he was gone. Orwell had become better friends with Jean because of Archie and because of quidditch, he had always respected the elder boy in a way that Orwell didn't really respect most people. Now he was gone. Orwell had taken the time out to go the memorial where he was sure that Archie would be too. He had liked Jean so it made sense to pay his respects to him, even if Orwell was particularly liked by the wider snow or pureblood families. It was a rather beautiful scene that Orwell arrived at, the candles floating about, and the lovely picture of Jean with his twin. It was rather odd in that moment to see Lucien who of course was the spitting image of Jean and imagine now that there was only one of them. He had brought some roses, unable to stop himself from bringing flowers, since Jean had been a part of the wild patch club and intended to hand them to Lucien when he got the chance, for them to litter the grave, but it didn't seem like the right time, he would wait. Orwell couldn't help but feel bad for Lucien, he had never cared much for the boy before but losing a friend and then a twin in a short space of time was something beyond Orwell's comprehension, beyond what his books could teach him, it was something he could never imagine, for him losing a friend and brother, which would be Archie would be beyond torturous. Orwell just took a seat and looked to the picture at the front, letting his mind cast fondly on the Gryffindor whom they had lost in the most grievous of accidents.
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