Marlene/Charlie
Marlene loved people and function. However, she did not like funerals. She felt off balance, always trying to tone it done, be less of what she was, which wasn't fair, because she liked who she was and if the rest of the world didn't like it, it was its problem. That was her philosophy in life, and yet, she didn't feel comfortable with using it when people were mourning.
She also didn't feel comfortable thinking about the fact that she should probably be mourning too.
She was trying to find someone else to talk to when the heel of her boot got stuck into the ground. As she pulled it out, she almost lost her balance, manage to regain it quickly, but not quickly enough to avoid bumping shoulders with one of the redheads. "Charlie Weasley, right?" God bless Dumbledore for his little debriefing. "I'm Marlene McKinnon," she said offering her hand and a smile. "I was a friend of Gideon." The phoenix on the lapel of her cloak left no doubt as to how.