Silver Blood One: The Resurrection

Summary: Devoid of a memory on how she died, someone came back from the dead to find out – only to find that she didn't die at all. Now she discovers that the love of her life is dead, her friends' lives are in danger, and her worst fears came true.

Disclaimer: Well, firstly I'd like to apologize to Hypen. See, a fic of mine had the same idea as a fic of hers – accidentally, of course... even he sweater thing. Oh yeah, none of the characters in the story – or the series, more like – are mine excluding the Muggles Catherine and Keith. They all belong to the master of all things Potter.

Author's Notes: Nothing much to say, really. I'm new to this. So if anyone wants to review, tell me the truth...

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"What're you two smiling about?" Ron asked Fred and George, who've just entered the room.

"Nothing, little bro," Fred said with a grin.

"C'mon, tell us!" insisted Ginny, taking a glance at Hermione who was clicking her tongue rather loudly.

"Well if you must know," George said with a grin, "we showed some of our merchandise with Muggles."

Hermione's eyes popped. "How could you? You're breaking the Statute of Secrecy! The fact that our lives are in danger doesn't seem to matter –"

"Well we need them," said George.

"What're you talking about?" shrieked Hermione indignantly.

"We sort of need – erm – accessories for some of our new inventions," Fred said, "and they're the only people who can get them."

"What –?"

"Like we've said before, Hermione, ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies."

They disapparated with a CRACK.

***

The night was dark, for the moon was young and the stars were asleep and rare. The clouds were thick yet feeble amounts of moonlight still reach the lifeless soil on the London graveyard. Not one would expect anything to happen in that inert area.

"What are we doing here?" a voice said in the distance.

"It's a dare, remember?" replied a female voice. "All we have to do is dig up a grave and get something from it – a bone, perhaps. It's not exactly hard to do, right?"

"I dunno, Catherine. Those redheads are pretty – queer." He placed the shovel on his left shoulder, because his right shoulder had a cramp from holding it too long.

"Will you quit it, Keith? Fred and George told me they'd let me in their group if I do this," Catherine said, holding out the flashlight in front of them. "And can you believe how much money they have, Keith? If I were with them, I wouldn't even need a year's allowance!"

Keith sighed. There was no talking out of this now once Cat made up her mind. His older sister was the brave one – sometimes too brave that she seems so stupid. She was always concerned about money. That's probably why she was in Fred and George's company. "They're weird. They called me Muggle."

"It's a cute nickname, Keith," Catherine said.

"You don't even know where they live!"

"Of course I do. They live in Grimmauld Square," said Catherine.

"Grimmauld Square?" exclaimed Keith. "Do you even know that neighborhood? It's creepy there... and the way they call me Muggle..."

"It's a cute nickname, Keith," Catherine said heatedly. "Now just pick a grave so we can dig it up."

"Oh, alright," sighed Keith. "Here – Dorcas Meadowes-Black, 1960-1981. She sounds pretty dead to me."

"Great, now dig it up!" Catherine said excitedly.

"Why do I have to dig it up?"

"Well, you found it," reasoned Catherine. "And besides – I'm holding the flashlight."

Keith heaved a sigh, but dug the grave up anyway. He kept on digging and digging until – an hour later – he was six feet under. Now the casket was visible. Catherine jumped into the hole and giggled excitedly. Keith raised his sweaty eyebrows at her.

"What? I'm excited."

"You go open it. I dug it up," argued Keith.

"Whatever." Catherine thrust the flashlight to Keith. "Help me heave it up, will you?"

Unknown of their newfound strength, Catherine and Keith managed to pull up the casket six feet above.

"Are we going to open it or just going to stand here?" Keith said exasperatedly.

"Alright, fine." Catherine opened picked the lock and pulled the casket's opening. She gasped.

Keith hurried up to her side and screamed. He ran in fear, holding the flashlight in his right hand, leaving a stunned sister beside the coffin. What made them so shocked was the body. Instead of the expected rotting bones and ashes in the coffin, a woman – probably in her early twenties – with dark black hair, flawless white skin, in tattered gown.

Still, Catherine stood beside her. Too afraid to move, to scared to scream. Different reasons about why the body was there formed in her head. Perhaps she was murdered – poisoned since there were no signs of blood – and left there to hide the evidence. Suppose she was buried alive by this Black. Too many thoughts made her numb. Petrified.

As an alternative, the Dorcas' body moved. Her eyes of steel gray sprang to life and darted to Catherine's direction. Shaking madly, Catherine finally found the strength to move again; she ran for her life, screaming along the path Keith took before her.

Dorcas' body – or rather, Dorcas herself – sat up from her coffin and surveyed the area. 'What am I doing here?' she thought to herself. She stood up and got put of the coffin, which was quite hard to do (not having to move her body for a probably gazillion years). She looked at the tomb stone and gasped the way Catherine did.

Here lies
Dorcas Meadowes-Black
Born January 14, 1960
Died September 11, 1981
Beloved friend, godmother, wife, and prankster
Quo Vadis?
(Where are you going?)

"At least they got it right," she laughed, which was weird because she couldn't even remember how she – died. "I can't believe I'm dead. I mean was. Or maybe I wasn't. Why am I here? Why am I wearing this? And why the hell am I talking to myself?" As a substitute to talking to herself, Dorcas settled on looking for a way out.

A lot of gravestones greeted her path (she is on a graveyard, after all) yet none of the names engraved on them were familiar. That was until she reached the edge of the graveyard, near the gate, where gravestones were of marble and the names engraved in them shone in gold. One name in particular caught her eye. Alphard Black. A sudden recollection hit her head. 'Of course, Uncle Al!' She gave her head a mental kick. Alphard Black – Sirius's uncle! How could she have forgotten? Unfortunately, according to the gravestone Uncle Al died a few years back of heart attack. It came as a mild shock to Dorcas that Uncle Al did have a gravestone, seeing as Uncle Al was disowned by the Black family. Beside him lay Elladora Black. 'I never did like her,' Dorcas thought to herself. Next to her was Procyon Black, beside him was Hecate Black, and alongside her was Regulus Black. Those three people were Dorcas' in-laws, or so she remembers. The engravings in Hecate Black's marble tombstone told Dorcas that she was dead for possibly more than five years.

"Well, I sure am part of the family," she said mordantly, "considering that my tombstone's miles away." Deep down, though, she felt happy. Not happy that she came back from the dead, though. She was happy because one particular name wasn't in any gravestone in her line of vision.

With that happy thought she strolled away from her dearly departed relatives, towards the exit of her home for fifteen years.

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Alright, that's it. If anyone has any inquiries about the names, here we go:

Procyon – brightest star in Canis Minoris. It means 'the one preceding the dog' which refers to its position just north of Sirius.

Hecate – goddess of darkness. She was especially worshipped by magicians, who sacrificed black dogs to her.

If anyone has the time to review, it would be very much appreciated. Thank you!

~i-nak~