Silver Blood
Three: Lothario
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.
In this chapter, Dorcas meets Dung.
Disclaimer: Alas, the characters are not in my possession; they belong to J.K Rowling and an assortment of publishers.
Author's Notes: Thanks to the people who've reviewed the second chapter. By the way, this isn't really what I'd picture Mundungus doing but bear in mind that he is drunk... there're a lot of conversations in this chapter, too. No other way to communicate better than with dialogues, eh..? Guess alcohol is bad...
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Dorcas looked at him with the coldest expression she could muster. "Do I know you?"
"Per'aps," he said, taking the empty seat beside Dorcas. "Ever been ter 'ogwarts?"
"I have," Dorcas snapped. She didn't fancy a talk with a stranger, especially someone who looked drunk. "What are you, a dropout?"
"Well I 'ere am in close contact with 'e headmas'er," he boasted.
"Indeed?" muttered Dorcas, taking a sip of her firewhisky. She didn't believe a word.
"Yeh, a bit o' a nutter, 'e is."
"You think so?" Dorcas said, taking another sip of firewhisky. Perhaps, she thought, if she becomes a little drunk, she could negotiate with the hooligan more contentedly.
"Yeh," he nodded. "Say, I didn' catch yer name."
"Dorcas," she said so flatly that he may not choose to ask her last name. "And you are?"
"Mundungus Fletcher," he said, "but 'ey call me Dung."
Dorcas felt a teeny bit more uncomfortable and took a large gulp of firewhisky, holding the glass with both her hands since she was feeling a bit dizzy. A little alcohol goes a long way for Dorcas, Sirius always said. Mundungus must have noticed the silver ring on her left ring finger because he made an awkward sound with his throat before speaking again.
"Married?" he asked uncomfortably.
"Was," said Dorcas. "I haven't seen my husband for fifteen years."
"Why?"
"We were – separated..."
"I see... Yer ring solid goblin-wrought silver?" he asked with interest, gazing at the ring. Dorcas had the impression that he asked that question more than once before.
"Fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, to be precise" she replied dully.
"B'long to ol' wizardin' family, eh?"
"Unfortunately."
"Yeh know, I 'appen ter know someone like yeh," Dung told her. "'e 'ates 'is fam'ly as much as you."
"Is that so?" she grinned, getting drunk by the second. "Can't imagine anyone else hate pureblood lineage as much as I do."
"Yep, poor bloke..."
"By the way, what are you doing here?" Dorcas asked abruptly.
"Wai'in for m' friend," he answered. "Went ter 'ogwarts, too."
"I'm not interested," she said. Dung laughed.
"Eh? Smart one, he is."
"Don't care," she said.
"What do yeh do fer a livin'?" Dung asked her. Dorcas was mildly surprised to be asked such a question by someone – like Dung.
"I used to work in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," she said. "And you?"
"Businessman, I am," he answered smugly. "Wha' abou' yer husband, unemployed bum?
"No," laughed Dorcas, she had never before heard an insult about Sirius – except when it was coming from her own mouth. "He – erm – he used to be an Auror trainee. I wonder if he made it, though."
"Still in love with 'em, are ye?" he asked, peering at her in a concerned sort of way.
"I – I don't – I'd rather not talk about it," she said flatly. But the question still remained. Did she still love him? In fact, her sudden hate for someone she wanted to die for was completely unreasonable. What if he moved in with James and Lily because of his depression? That could've happened... 'Except the fact that when Sirius is depressed, he usually wants to be alone in his Animagus form', she thought miserably. Maybe he has left, after all.
"I see." Mundungus, probably because of his large intake of alcohol, was determined to know this woman's history. "So, ever had any kids?"
Dorcas was feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. Trying to remember memories she wants to forget was as easy as detaching her legs with a mouse. But nevertheless, there was something inside of her that wanted to answer his questions. Something told her not to forget about Sirius. And she let that "something" win. "No... he wanted to, though. I just wasn't – ready."
"Stubborn mule, ain' he?" said Mundungus in an angry sort of way. Dorcas laughed inwardly. She called Sirius a 'stubborn mule' once.
"I suppose," she said quietly, remembering the time when Sirius wanted to take a day off and babysit Harry. As if he didn't hear Dorcas' protests, he went and babysat Harry, anyway. She shook her head and called, "Tom, can I have another glass of firewhisky?"
Tom, as if he had the glass ready, immediately handed it to her and stepped away again. She tipped the glass and drained its contents to the very last drop.
"You – er – ever been on a figh' with 'em?"
"Loads of times," said Dorcas. On the corner of her eye she thought she saw Dung smile. "But – erm – we always make out – I mean, make up in the end."
"Where d'you reckon 'e is?"
"I –" I think he's going out with different one-night stands and works as a stripper in a bar somewhere in Vegas, she wanted to say, but thought better off it. The alcohol must be affecting her mind. "I honestly don't know."
Dung checked his watch, and announced, "Midnigh'. So you –"
Before Dung could finish trying to hit on her, Dorcas stood up and told him, "If you'll excuse me, Mundungus, I'm going to inquire for a room."
"Told yeh to call me Dung. All m' mates do."
"We're not mates."
***
"Mornin', mates," Mundungus bid the people in the dining room of number 12, Grimmauld Place.
"Well you're in a cheery mood today," said Fred. "Anything special happened?"
"Met the love o' my life, I had," he said, sitting in between Fred and Ron.
"Met the love of your life?" George repeated in disbelief. "That's very bad for business, mate."
"Very, very, very bad for your health, as well," added Fred with a grimace.
"You can't try to talk him out of it, boys," said Lupin, who had just come out from the door. "I picked him up from the Leaky Cauldron very drunk last night."
"So what do you call your beloved by?" Fred asked dramatically.
"'er name's sacred," said Mundungus.
"Or maybe you were just too drunk to remember her name," suggested Ron. "So d'you reckon dad will let her stay for dinner at his birthday?"
"I hope so," said Fred. "And besides, we're celebrating at the Burrow so you don't have to worry about the Order."
"Yeah. Coming, professor?"
"I think so. Where's Hermione and Ginny?" Lupin asked, taking a seat across Ron.
"I think they're with mum buying food," Ron answered. "Did they say when Harry's coming? It's been a week."
"Yes, I suppose he's coming soon," said Lupin, "I'm just not exactly sure when."
"So tell us, Dung, how was your night?" Ron said.
"She's..."
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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.
In this chapter, Dorcas meets Dung.
Disclaimer: Alas, the characters are not in my possession; they belong to J.K Rowling and an assortment of publishers.
Author's Notes: Thanks to the people who've reviewed the second chapter. By the way, this isn't really what I'd picture Mundungus doing but bear in mind that he is drunk... there're a lot of conversations in this chapter, too. No other way to communicate better than with dialogues, eh..? Guess alcohol is bad...
____________________________________________
Dorcas looked at him with the coldest expression she could muster. "Do I know you?"
"Per'aps," he said, taking the empty seat beside Dorcas. "Ever been ter 'ogwarts?"
"I have," Dorcas snapped. She didn't fancy a talk with a stranger, especially someone who looked drunk. "What are you, a dropout?"
"Well I 'ere am in close contact with 'e headmas'er," he boasted.
"Indeed?" muttered Dorcas, taking a sip of her firewhisky. She didn't believe a word.
"Yeh, a bit o' a nutter, 'e is."
"You think so?" Dorcas said, taking another sip of firewhisky. Perhaps, she thought, if she becomes a little drunk, she could negotiate with the hooligan more contentedly.
"Yeh," he nodded. "Say, I didn' catch yer name."
"Dorcas," she said so flatly that he may not choose to ask her last name. "And you are?"
"Mundungus Fletcher," he said, "but 'ey call me Dung."
Dorcas felt a teeny bit more uncomfortable and took a large gulp of firewhisky, holding the glass with both her hands since she was feeling a bit dizzy. A little alcohol goes a long way for Dorcas, Sirius always said. Mundungus must have noticed the silver ring on her left ring finger because he made an awkward sound with his throat before speaking again.
"Married?" he asked uncomfortably.
"Was," said Dorcas. "I haven't seen my husband for fifteen years."
"Why?"
"We were – separated..."
"I see... Yer ring solid goblin-wrought silver?" he asked with interest, gazing at the ring. Dorcas had the impression that he asked that question more than once before.
"Fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, to be precise" she replied dully.
"B'long to ol' wizardin' family, eh?"
"Unfortunately."
"Yeh know, I 'appen ter know someone like yeh," Dung told her. "'e 'ates 'is fam'ly as much as you."
"Is that so?" she grinned, getting drunk by the second. "Can't imagine anyone else hate pureblood lineage as much as I do."
"Yep, poor bloke..."
"By the way, what are you doing here?" Dorcas asked abruptly.
"Wai'in for m' friend," he answered. "Went ter 'ogwarts, too."
"I'm not interested," she said. Dung laughed.
"Eh? Smart one, he is."
"Don't care," she said.
"What do yeh do fer a livin'?" Dung asked her. Dorcas was mildly surprised to be asked such a question by someone – like Dung.
"I used to work in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," she said. "And you?"
"Businessman, I am," he answered smugly. "Wha' abou' yer husband, unemployed bum?
"No," laughed Dorcas, she had never before heard an insult about Sirius – except when it was coming from her own mouth. "He – erm – he used to be an Auror trainee. I wonder if he made it, though."
"Still in love with 'em, are ye?" he asked, peering at her in a concerned sort of way.
"I – I don't – I'd rather not talk about it," she said flatly. But the question still remained. Did she still love him? In fact, her sudden hate for someone she wanted to die for was completely unreasonable. What if he moved in with James and Lily because of his depression? That could've happened... 'Except the fact that when Sirius is depressed, he usually wants to be alone in his Animagus form', she thought miserably. Maybe he has left, after all.
"I see." Mundungus, probably because of his large intake of alcohol, was determined to know this woman's history. "So, ever had any kids?"
Dorcas was feeling more uncomfortable by the minute. Trying to remember memories she wants to forget was as easy as detaching her legs with a mouse. But nevertheless, there was something inside of her that wanted to answer his questions. Something told her not to forget about Sirius. And she let that "something" win. "No... he wanted to, though. I just wasn't – ready."
"Stubborn mule, ain' he?" said Mundungus in an angry sort of way. Dorcas laughed inwardly. She called Sirius a 'stubborn mule' once.
"I suppose," she said quietly, remembering the time when Sirius wanted to take a day off and babysit Harry. As if he didn't hear Dorcas' protests, he went and babysat Harry, anyway. She shook her head and called, "Tom, can I have another glass of firewhisky?"
Tom, as if he had the glass ready, immediately handed it to her and stepped away again. She tipped the glass and drained its contents to the very last drop.
"You – er – ever been on a figh' with 'em?"
"Loads of times," said Dorcas. On the corner of her eye she thought she saw Dung smile. "But – erm – we always make out – I mean, make up in the end."
"Where d'you reckon 'e is?"
"I –" I think he's going out with different one-night stands and works as a stripper in a bar somewhere in Vegas, she wanted to say, but thought better off it. The alcohol must be affecting her mind. "I honestly don't know."
Dung checked his watch, and announced, "Midnigh'. So you –"
Before Dung could finish trying to hit on her, Dorcas stood up and told him, "If you'll excuse me, Mundungus, I'm going to inquire for a room."
"Told yeh to call me Dung. All m' mates do."
"We're not mates."
***
"Mornin', mates," Mundungus bid the people in the dining room of number 12, Grimmauld Place.
"Well you're in a cheery mood today," said Fred. "Anything special happened?"
"Met the love o' my life, I had," he said, sitting in between Fred and Ron.
"Met the love of your life?" George repeated in disbelief. "That's very bad for business, mate."
"Very, very, very bad for your health, as well," added Fred with a grimace.
"You can't try to talk him out of it, boys," said Lupin, who had just come out from the door. "I picked him up from the Leaky Cauldron very drunk last night."
"So what do you call your beloved by?" Fred asked dramatically.
"'er name's sacred," said Mundungus.
"Or maybe you were just too drunk to remember her name," suggested Ron. "So d'you reckon dad will let her stay for dinner at his birthday?"
"I hope so," said Fred. "And besides, we're celebrating at the Burrow so you don't have to worry about the Order."
"Yeah. Coming, professor?"
"I think so. Where's Hermione and Ginny?" Lupin asked, taking a seat across Ron.
"I think they're with mum buying food," Ron answered. "Did they say when Harry's coming? It's been a week."
"Yes, I suppose he's coming soon," said Lupin, "I'm just not exactly sure when."
"So tell us, Dung, how was your night?" Ron said.
"She's..."
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