Seeing Kingsley buried felt strange, odd, surreal almost, yet knowing they were going to Percy's house and not his own after felt…well even more strange. It was a very odd mix of emotions, and he wasn't quite used to it all. On the one hand grief – for Kingsley, for Cho. On the other a sense of happiness that was definitely new and unfamiliar but that he knew had to do with Percy, with the decision he'd made.
If he hadn't been a Slytherin he might have felt guilt to feel happiness at a time like this. As it was he tried to focus on those feelings rather than the grief, the sense of meaningless loss, the helplessness of the situation. He was glad Percy was there (even more glad that he'd managed to persuade him to stay at the Shack for so long), and glad Susan was too, even if she'd called him insane when he'd told her his decision. He'd not told anyone else. Did not intend on telling anyone else. At least not yet. Somehow a funeral seemed like a horrible place – especially when looking over to Hestia, Kinglsley's daughter (was it Valeria, Valery?), their newborn baby. It seemed inappropriate, and so he just stayed in the background, hoping to be able to leave as early as possible.
Was it wrong to feel anticipation for what was to come? Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, yet somehow he didn't care too much about that. He cared about paying his respects to a great Auror – and of getting out of here as soon as that was done. Nothing more, nothing less. He hated funerals.