When Henry finally came around enough to feel like he could function, he got himself cleaned up and had some time to spend with Harry in the nursery before he went down to breakfast. The rest of the family were there, all looking as grim and solemn as he felt, but he was glad to not be alone in his grief and the adjustment of truly knowing Kat was gone and of not being continually aware of wanting to spend time with her. He learned through brief conversation that the others had also slept a great deal the previous day, but Oliver had taken the initiative to put funeral plans into action. Since the plans had already been discussed weeks earlier—mostly initiated by Kat—they had already been in agreement about how everything should be handled, and Henry was glad to not have to face dealing with what Oliver had already done.

Henry noticed that Amala appeared more grave and quiet than the others. He completely understood how she felt, and he was grateful that they’d been able to share Kat’s death in such a peaceful and intimate way. But now that Kat was gone, the echoes of what she’d made them promise were becoming more prominent in his mind, making him not want to exchange any conversation with Amala at all. He knew that was ridiculous and told himself that she was still his sister and his friend, and to avoid her due to the awkwardness of the situation would only make it all the more awkward. Neither of them was anywhere near ready to discuss the implications of or their feelings on the matter. He simply forced himself to focus on the present and try not to think at all of Kat’s final wish.

The days leading up to the funeral were heavy with dark clouds and occasional drizzling, making the world outside seem completely without color. Henry most often found himself staring out one window or another, thinking of how the weather perfectly mirrored how he felt. In fact, he believed that if the sun were shining he might resent it for contradicting him. He too felt without color, often needing to cry just enough to release the overwhelming grief consuming him, just as the sky seemed unable to stop emitting regular bursts of rain, rarely stopping for more than a few minutes here and there.

Henry spent a great deal of time with his son, deeply grateful that Harry was unaware of the grief and drama taking place around him, but saddened to think that he would not even remember his mother. Nevertheless, Henry would always tell him about her and would never allow her place in their family to be forgotten.