I know. I wish I could, I don't like the preoccupation.

When people die, and we bury them, every trace of their existence on earth is expunged; though some things, such as material possessions, linger. But the essence of who they were is gone forever, there's nothing of them left anymore, nothing tangible. [She's not always good at being comforting, her mind is wired differently.] But they can still speak, if you know how to listen. Memory is a comfort to the living. Our sense of smell is actually the strongest tie to memory one can have.

An Auror? We have nothing like that where I come from.