Experimentation... July 26, 1997
Antonin smiled to himself. He dusted his hands off on a nearby rag, and then realized that he had just used the dead Muggle's shirt to wipe his hands clean of that very same Muggle's blood. How ironic was that? A soft laugh escaped him before he could stop it, but he quickly got himself back under control. He needed to finish this soon. He desperately wanted to prove to The Dark Lord that he could be just as useful as that damn Snape. So the bastard had killed Dumbledore, he, Antonin could do deeds that were just as significant. They would all see, he could do this!
He glanced down at the symbols drawn in blood on the floor and took a deep breath before stepping inside their protective lines. The incantation came easily to his lips. As he chanted, he bent his will and his magic to the task of raising the dead Muggle's spirit and forcing it to obey him.
Necromancy was a very difficult bit of magic. It involved wrestling, literally, with the spirit of the dead person or persons one was trying to raise. Some spirits were very strong indeed, but this Muggle wasn't one of those. Antonin soon had him under his control.
"Bow before me," he said, being careful to keep his voice low, but commanding.
The spirit did as he'd been ordered, and then waited for his next command. Antonin was amused to note that the spirit did not even rise from his position of obeisance until he was ordered to do so. While that could prove to be a bit inconvenient if he wasn't careful, he set that worry aside for now. He would be very careful indeed. If this continued to work with other spiris, he could have an entire army of shades at the Dark Lord's command. He banished the spirit, stepped out of the lines, and walked to the dungeons to retrieve another captive. He would have to do this more than once to make sure it worked the way it was supposed to. As he walked, he found himself humming.
He glanced down at the symbols drawn in blood on the floor and took a deep breath before stepping inside their protective lines. The incantation came easily to his lips. As he chanted, he bent his will and his magic to the task of raising the dead Muggle's spirit and forcing it to obey him.
Necromancy was a very difficult bit of magic. It involved wrestling, literally, with the spirit of the dead person or persons one was trying to raise. Some spirits were very strong indeed, but this Muggle wasn't one of those. Antonin soon had him under his control.
"Bow before me," he said, being careful to keep his voice low, but commanding.
The spirit did as he'd been ordered, and then waited for his next command. Antonin was amused to note that the spirit did not even rise from his position of obeisance until he was ordered to do so. While that could prove to be a bit inconvenient if he wasn't careful, he set that worry aside for now. He would be very careful indeed. If this continued to work with other spiris, he could have an entire army of shades at the Dark Lord's command. He banished the spirit, stepped out of the lines, and walked to the dungeons to retrieve another captive. He would have to do this more than once to make sure it worked the way it was supposed to. As he walked, he found himself humming.