Some say there is a world of the dead, separated from the world of the living with a single veil. A thin boundary that keeps the living out and the dead in. A lot of magical bonds bound this entrance. No one who has entered it has ever returned.
Many witches and wizards have tried to break it. There are a gifted few who can blur these boundaries for some time, but no successful attempt has ever made them disappear (for those looking for reference on resurrection stone, go to fiction section of the library asshole).
The footnote written on the notes of the “Revival of Dead and Past attempts...” was unfamiliar handwriting but it was enough to put me off. I slammed shut the book. There had to be some way. I opened the book once again to see pictures of Inferi, Sorcerer's Stone, unicorns and some horcrux description. There was one final section that drew my interest. Necromancy. Like us, the chors; the necromamcers were guilty of practicing darkest forms of magic. Some say the dark lord is a necromancer. But they don't raise Inferi. Necromamcers are kind of what muggle would call psychics. They can harness the power of the dead.
They can raise the dead and communicate with them. They are the only ones that have some control over the boundaries of the veil. I twirled my wand between my fingers. Their abilities weren't necessarily genetic, one could learn to be a necromancer. Although it would be highly risky.
If I had a body and a soul was guided to it, then with a small ritual of bonding and the potion, I could revive the dead. Obviously it would consume my life force and I would require a necromancer. But, that was the difficult part. Where would I find one?
Their kind had their restrictions. They were hunted by ministries, their reputation tarnished by so many others who had tried to raise armies of undead and capture cities and rule. I only needed one to enter the world beyond the veil, the world of the dead where they can guide the person out of the veil for a few seconds. That was all I would need for the revival ritual.
But it was risky, what if they got trapped inside? Because Death will not let one of his captured souls walk free that easily. Death would do anything to try and stop the person. I would need someone who is experienced. Someone who would be ready to deal with me even after knowing the risk. If not I would need an individual ready to teach me the tricks of the trade, at the very least. Now that was quite a bit of persuasion involved.
At first I had thought of another way of blurring the boundary. An ouija board. But with that, I couldn't be sure I had the right soul. So my first step was to find such a person or learn the arts. But the books in the library were proving pretty much useless.
They were all about theory and warnings, none about practical knowledge. I needed someone who knew of it. I needed to ask a teacher about this. And there was only one who would readily talk. Nope, not my Dad. He had enough brains to know I wanted to meddle in this. And he wouldn't allow me to meddle in any more dark arts than I already was. It had to be someone else. Someone idiotic enough to believe I was only curious. And who was more of an idiot than Slughorn?
Sometimes I wonder how he could be an ex Slytherin. He had none of the qualities but greed maybe. We were greedy for our ambition. But he wasn't cunning or overly ambitious. Then again, I doubt he knows as much as I do. But I have heard the dark lord talking highly of him. Maybe, he was my only resort. Maybe I have just been too blinded by prejudice and anger all last year to realise that he is actually quite brainy. I hope so....

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My hands shook with anticipation as I added the last ingredient to my potion. The fumes rose up in silver swirls and the solution turned clear when they stopped rising. Purrfect! My Veritaserum was perfectly prepared half an hour before the allowed time. I let it cool a little before taking the cauldron off the stove and pouring it into a crystal vial.
“Ah! Ms. Snape, another achievement. Well done, really. I expect you would score an Outstanding in your NEWT rank too.” he complimented. I gave him a genuine grin today instead of the stick on smile that I usually stuck on my face.
“Thank you, Proffesor.” I replied.
“Just keep up with the good work.” He patted my back and moved ahead to the others still struggling with the potion. He took off some points from Hufflepuff for the lousiest mistakes and vanished Fels' mess of a potion. The remaining fifteen minutes flew by and the bell rang for lunch break. I took my time packing my stuff and was the last left.
“You are pretty slow at packing and cleaning up compared to your potion making skills, eh Snape?” he guffawed at his own silly joke. I chuckled along with him.
“Yes, you are quite right.” I replied with a small smile.
“Actually, Proffesor I was wondering if you could clear a few doubts.” I asked, moving around my table, stepping closer to him. He raised a single brow, his smile ceasing a little for some reason.
“What are these doubts that Severus couldn't clear?” he cleared his throat and tried to stretch his smile up, trying to laugh at his own small joke.
“Actually, I never asked him.” I replied with a smile of my own and shoved my hands into my pockets. “I just needed to know a little about necromamcers.”
“Necromancy is a dangerous field of magic. Where did you cone across that filthy word? I am sure we don't teach that at Hogwarts.” he replied looking away from me.
“Yes, but am sure you would know something. I stumbled across the word. And I am just... ah, curious.” I said. He looked puzzled, stumped. Maybe he was having some kind of deja vu for he muttered under his breath, taking a step away from me. I stepped forward, compensating the distance.
“Surely a person as experienced and well read as you would know. You have such well kept contacts too...” I hinted, coming to stand in front of him. Beads of sweat lined his forehead.
“Who put you up to this?” he hissed. I was taken aback by the sudden change in tone. I stepped back. He advanced on ne thus time. “It was Dumbledore, was it not? First Potter and now you. Yes, I did tell him about horcruxes and maybe he did learn to create them from me. But necromancy is an even darker branch. And I never taught him to raise Inferi. I did not tell him about necromancy and will not tell you.”
“But- Dumbledore never, he had nothing to do with my doubt... I genuinely had a doubt, sir....”
“I don't care. Get out. Just get out. Do not meddle with the dark arts. They are dangerous. And they will consume you before you can even learn to control them. Severus will hear of this.” he shouted behind me as he threw the door open. My blood ran cold with his threat. Not Dad! I bit my tongue to stop from groaning. I hastily collected my belongings and got out.
“But-” I made one last attempt. The door slammed in my face, the sound echoing in the dungeons. I stood there, clutching my backpack. That was one horrible fail. If Dad hears about this, my dead body will definitely hang from that hook in his closet, skinned, marinated and ready to use as potion ingredient.
      
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At age seventeen, when you are officially an adult and quite an influence over your peers it is embarrassing when you are dragged by your neck by your parents. That's exactly what happened to me at dinner. Just as I was entering the Great Hall, Dad descended down on me.
I saw him sitting beside Slughorn with that sour expression on his face as if he sucked on a lemon and the next moment I saw him bat down upon me and carry me away with a firm grip on my collar. I was forced to sit down in a chair opposite him and he swiftly took a place opposite me.
“What is going on with you?” he hissed, spit flying in his anger.
“That I am hungry and need to get some of that delicious smelling, elf cooked food down my throat, into my stomach, so as to stop it's growling.” I replied as calmly as possible. Well, considering I expected this, I wasn't any less nervous. But it gave me some preparation.
“You know very well what I meant.” he growled.
“Do I?” I questioned back trying to look as innocent as possible. He slammed his fist angrily on the table between us. I lifted my hands off it, feeling it's tremors send a shiver down my spine. I was already scared. I didn't need to get even more intimidated.
“Did you ask Slughorn about necromamcers?” he asked. I shrugged.
“I... may have.” I replied testily. His eyes narrowed to mere slits and a jar of pickled cockroaches exploded behind him. He got upland started pacing the room. Taking long strides. I wrapped my arms protectively around myself.
“Don't test my patience. You did. And I want to know, why? What is it that makes you meddle with something so dangerous?” he swooped down on me, turning my chair to face him and leaned down, both his hands resting on my chair's armrests. His eyes met mine.
“I have my reasons.” I whispered clutching my forearms tightly. He leaned further, making me move back to put some space between us. I knew what he was trying to do, distract me, break my primary defence and get into my head.
“And I have every right to know those.” he drawled. My eyes narrowed to slits.
“Look, it's better if you don't know anything.” I explained changing my stance. He leaned back and pulled up a chair to sit opposite me, no table in between this time.
“You can tell me, kid. Or do you not trust me?” he asked, crossing his legs in the four position.
“I... I do. But it's not a matter of trust, Dad. The less you know the better.” I pleaded.
“I believe I deserve to know, kid.” he drawled, crossing his arms stubbornly. It was definitely going to be difficult getting past him, today. He was determined to know.
“Very well. You might know that I have been secretly working on a potion, right?” I began. He nodded. “I found some notes of an ancient resurrection ritual at Drew manor. Some of the pages were damaged by termites and stuff. And my grandfather's diary and a little bit of study of some more scriptures told me what I needed to know.”
He cocked his head to one side as if trying to make some connection. “A week after Christmas I added the final ingredient to the potion. So far I have experimented with rats. And last weekend I revived Ninja star, my owl. I experimented on Mrs. Norris, as well. I have kept them under observation but I haven't observed any side effects. All I had to do was feed them the potion before killing them. Then I slit my wrist and uttered the incantation. Some red and gold sparkles floated in the air, the animal levitated for a few minutes and with a green light dropped to the floor. It was as if the effects of the curse were reversed. And next moment it was snoring in deep sleep. Well, not exactly snoring, but it would go in a kind of coma. It would wake around three days after. So I thought I could replicate the ritual with humans.” I shrugged in reply. He was watching me intently as if trying to search for some kind of lie in what I just told him.
“So, you can revive anyone?” he asked.
“Not sure. I need to experiment. But for that someone has to be killed. I need to feel their life force, feel their soul. Or else I can't do anything.” I replied. He pondered with his chin resting on his hand. I pouted.
“Now, if I could leave?”
“So you need the necromamcers for the soul search? To go beyond the veil and search for the soul you need. Am I correct?” he asked. I nodded.
“You won't be in any danger?” he questioned, one eyebrow raised.
“Nope.” I popped the p.
“And you don't want to raise an army of Inferi?” he narrowed his eyes.
“C'mon Dad, I have been completely honest with you. Trust me atleast a little.” I groaned.
“Very well, you have my support. If you need help. Ask.” he drawled.
“Can I go?” I asked, a bit annoyed. He looked at his pocket watch.
“It's past dinner time.” he said. My stomach gave a growl. He smirked.
“What? Don't give me that smug look. It's all your fault.” I snarled in complaint. He shook his head, a genuine smile gracing his features.
“You have no idea how relieved I am.” he said waving his wand. Sandwiches and pumpkin juice appeared on the table.
“Enjoy.” he said pouring some for himself and picking up a sandwich.