WHO: Sturgis Podmore & Winthrop Abbott. WHAT: In these trying times, it's always good to preplan your funeral. WHEN: Friday, April 6th in the morning. WHERE: Abbott Funeral Services. WARNINGS: Generalized talk of death.
It had taken nearly twenty-two years, but Sturgis had finally started thinking that an untimely demise was a big potential for him. It had started with Gawain, though the deaths of Ted and Dedalus had sent him hurtling fullsteam ahead into the potential of truly being murdered by a Death Eater. And when it came to handling is fresh corpse, he only had one person in mind.
“You did do a wonderful job with my parents funeral,” Sturgis said as he fidgeted in the leather-bound chair. “And I guess your advertisement got me thinking that we truly never know which day will be our last these days.”
Winthrop nodded, knowing full well what a strange topic this was to broach and think about for the future. He had his future plans all laid out, of course, but his reasons were far greater than a few others. Regardless, Winthrop drew a piece of parchment from his desk, and waved a hand to let a quill fly to him, as it began to write down various things.
"It's good to be prepared for the worst," Winthrop spoke, shaking his head, looking a bit grieve-stricken. He sighed, his empathy paving the way for the creases that formed as his brows came together. "I do remember that — that little prairie in Ireland," he remembered fondly, as if he wasn't the reason the elder Podmores were lain to rest in the first place.
“I used to think that was a ridiculous way to live a life,” Sturgis answered with a solemn nod. “But more and more it just feels like there is no stopping things and I feel Caroline and I need to be prepared so not to burden the twins.”
Sturgis's statement was met with a brief, albeit understanding, chuckle and Winthrop nodded, letting his fingers come together, steepling. "No, you're right. It is a pretty ridiculous way to live," he agreed. "Alas, the world isn't easy right now, is it? We have to prepare for the inevitability that we may not be around tomorrow. And as you said, you do not want to be a burden to your family when they may already be grieve-stricken."
Winthrop reached for a few different parchments behind him, and let them settle in front of Sturgis on the desk. "These are the various plans we have right now, but," he paused, a fond smile appearing on his face. "For a dear friend, I'm willing to slash the rates even more."
Leaning forward, he picked up the parchment and perused the prices. All in all, they seemed reasonable, though pricer than it had been when he had viewed a similar list for his parents. It was important though.
“Out of curiosity, what is your return policy? Say something happens and there isn’t really anything left of me for a burial?”
Winthrop smiled, though the smile betrayed his sadness just a bit. His thoughts wandered to his own family and he momentarily hung his head, but he smiled anyway, looking back at Sturgis. "I am happy to work with your family and smooth things over, as appropriate."
He relaxed his posture a bit, and sighed. "How are the kids, anyway? It has been terribly long since I've seen them."
“They’re doing fine,” Sturgis answered with his own slightly sad smile. “Trying to keep to themselves and keep their heads down like most of us these days.”
"A wise idea," Winthrop nodded, though a part of him resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He, however, put on a smile all the same and leaned back in his chair. "Well, what do you think?" He asked, gesturing the parchments. "Anything that interests you? No pressure on making the decision now, naturally. You should consult your wife! And your family!" His smile widened. "Don't want to end up in the dog house, after all."
Sturgis let out a small laugh. “I don’t think I would be that much in the dog house with Caroline,” he assured the undertaker. “We’ve lost a few friends recently and we lost even more during the first war. Knew one bloke that was actually found in pieces, hence my question earlier. So we’re sadly accustomed to death and she wouldn’t have too many smart things to say about preemptive funeral planning.”
Winthrop's interest perked up, at the particular mention of the bloke being found in pieces. He knew of at least one member of the Order of the Phoenix of the past that fit the description, and yet —
No, surely, Sturgis Podmore couldn't be a member of the Order.
"Right…," Winthrop trailed off, as he studied his potential customer's face for any signs that may indicate his suspicion.
"And there was that chap that was displayed at that art exhibition too," he added, making sure to keep his eyes unwavering, to study even the tiniest of flinches. "Too many deaths, too many indeed."
“Dedalus Diggle. We were roommates at Hogwarts,” Sturgis answered in a quiet tone, his voice faltering just a bit as he said the name.
Inhaling sharply, he reached for one of the quills on Winthrop’s desk and began to fill out the address form on the bottom of the paper so he could be notified for future casket promotions. Distracted, he initially began to write his address in Ireland down on the parchment and only when he had finished writing the town did he realize what he had done. He scratched it out vigerously and wrote his abandoned London address on the line below.
“Too many deaths indeed.”
Winthrop took the form from Sturgis and chuckled at Sturgis's mishap. "Having thoughts about your family, Sturgis?" He gave his friend an honest smile, though the mischievous nature of that smile was only properly represented in the inner workings of his brain.
"We'll have you sorted, don't you worry." He let his hand rest on Sturgis's arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You are always safe with me."