Mama looked over his notes and runes. She made a few small corrections but finally set them down and nodded.
"I'm very impressed. This is a complex ritual to develop at your age. Why, with a bit of tweaking we could use it to eliminate the need for horcruxes. It is a bit more risky, but much less costly on the soul. Who are you planning on using as the anchors?"
"I'm not sure. My first thought were muggles, but -"
"They would die far too easily I think."
"Right, but a wizard would notice pretty quickly that something was wrong with him."
"And we can't have the Ministry investigating a string of people suddenly bound by Dark magic. I don't suppose we could try to pin it on Voldemort? Oh but then Dumbledore would surely investigate."
"I was thinking maybe some of the prisoners of Azkaban? Mum and dad are over there torturing the Death Eaters, and apparently no one ever checks on them. They haven't noticed that Bellatrix Lestrange is dead yet."
"Well, no one would believe them if they started to complain about Dark magic, hmm? But gathering their blood will be tricky. The wards of Azkaban are impenetrable. We won't be able to just sneak in."
"Are they allowed visitors?"
"That…" she frowned. "That's not a terrible idea. Once we get inside, it will be easy to control the dementors. It would be incredibly suspicious of us to go visit a prisoner, however. I'm sure the majority of them are not fond of you. Let me do some digging. I'll come up with some sort of excuse. In the meanwhile, you have plenty of preparations to make. We can always hold off on imbuing the blood until after the holidays. Oh, and were you thinking of making one for yourself?"
"I don't think so," Harry said. "Would it be necessary with my horcrux?"
"I'm not sure." They pondered over the spell theory for a moment. "I think, between your tattoos, your horcrux, and your necromancy you will get all the benefits of the spell and more. They wouldn't interact with each other, though, if you wanted one as another failsafe."
"Hmm. We'll grab some extra blood just in case," he decided. "But I'm not worried about the Heir of Slytherin going after me."
That night was the winter solstice. The most powerful night to do spooky necromancy rituals. Harry carefully copied the runic array he'd crafted. A large circle, drawn in pure salt. Uruz for strength, to tie one life force to another. Gebo for sacrifice. These two were the bases of the spell. He connected them at the east and west poles for stability and power. Placing three amulets into their spots in a triangle along the circle's edge, Harry looked up to see his mama had returned. Her body was black ink, formed of nothing but large, otherworldly shadow, arching up behind her like tentacles. In their grasp were three unconscious people, pulled from who-knows-where and tossed into the circle. Harry arranged them around the line of salt. Typically, they did these sorts of things in their murder basement like normal people but this spell needed a lot of power so they were instead outside. Waiting for the moon to reach its apex, Harry hummed under his breath and fiddled with the hem of his robe. When it was time, he shook his head to get focused, drawing a deep breath in. Around the edges of his mind the blackness twirled with excitement. He pulled. Shadows lept from their spots and spiraled around them, encasing them in a wall of shimmering onyx.
"You'll need more than that," Alabasandria advised him. Harry pulled harder.
The shadows wailed and screamed, taking the form of great black hounds. They howled and charged along the edge of the rune circle.
There were two keys to successful necromancy. Power and emotion. Harry had the first pounding in his ears.
He imagined Hermione, muggleborn, vulnerable. Draco Malfoy's haughty voice: "You'll be next, mudbloods!" Chipper, unflappable Luna twisted in fear. Ron, body cold and unmoving. Petrified, or worse. The shadows howled again, and attacked.
Blood oozed into the salt and the earth. Cursed green bled stark against suffocating black. The runes flaired to life, the now mangled bodies acting as a source of power. Green criss-crossed through the lines scraped into the earth and began to seep into the amulets. It was silent as they sucked up the blood and shadow for several minutes. Then, the wind settled and the shadows slowly edged back into reality.
The glowing faded as Harry scooped up the amulets. He looked over to his mother with a feral grin. His heart was pumping fast, the traces of power moved through his body and tickled as it ran through his veins. In this moment - on the darkest night of the year, the blood of innocents pouring magic into his body - there was nothing out there more powerful than Harry. He reveled in the feelings as they faded, absolutely high out of his mind on the pleasure of a ritual well done.
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