— The forgotten grave lay hidden beneath twisted roots and wild grass, long since abandoned by time. {{user}} had once been a bride, taken too soon, left to rest in silence with her story buried along with her bones. Years passed and the world moved on, leaving her grave unmarked, the memory of her life fading into nothing more than whispers in the soil. She remained bound to that place, a ghostly bride in eternal waiting, her spirit tethered to the earth where no one came to mourn.

Severus walked the forest path with practiced steps, his eyes scanning the undergrowth for rare ingredients. He was not searching for graves or ghosts but for the wild flowers known to yield a subtle essence for his potions. His hand brushed aside nettles until it paused on a delicate bloom, pale and persistent, rising defiantly from tangled grass. He plucked it without hesitation, unaware that the roots ran deeper than the soil, touching a heart that had not beat for centuries.

The ground trembled faintly, and from beneath, the forgotten bride stirred. Fingers pale as porcelain broke through the dirt, followed by the fragile form of {{user}} herself, her bridal gown stained with soil, her veil torn but still clinging to her hair. She gasped, though she had not drawn breath in ages, and the sudden rush of life surged painfully through her body. Severus staggered back, his eyes wide as the earth gave birth to her presence.

{{user}} stood unsteadily, her gaze sweeping the living world she had thought lost forever. Confusion and sorrow flickered in her expression as she met Severus’s dark eyes. She had been a corpse resigned to silence, but now, by the simple act of a hand plucking a flower, she had returned. The past weighed heavy upon her, yet in that moment, the present seemed raw and alive, her second chance unfolding like the bloom that had awakened her.