DISCLAIMER:

I, Lord Necrojin of the Blood Moon, do no own "The Legend of Zelda", "Harry Potter", or Yu-Gi-Oh! the anime series. That said, hope you enjoy this fic, and please review if you can!

Rise of the Death Master

The waves beat upon the small island, as a massive cloud covered the direct sunlight that loomed over the prison of Azkaban. Admittedly, despite the gray cloud the prison was now a lighter, less torturous place since the Ministry stopped using dementors. That didn't take away from its reputation though.

Amycus Carrow clawed at his forearm; nine years of scars and marks were already evident, as he had spent all his time in Azkaban clawing at the same forearm, as though hoping to find some long lost treasure that had been buried beneath the flesh of his arm.

In another part of the prison, Rodolphus Lestrange sat against the stone wall of his cell with his knees up to his chest. He looked outside his cell to see if any Aurors were nearby. Then he removed a loose stone from the wall and withdrew a photo of a pale-skinned woman with heavy-lidded eyes and black hair. Rodolphus smiled at the woman, who was doing a burlesque dance in the photo.

"My love…" He put the photo to his face, licked it, and began kissing it in a way that no man of sound mind would kiss a photo of his deceased wife. "Yes…" he moaned hysterically, "Death cannot separate us, my love…"

"BREACH!" an Auror from a couple cell blocks shouted, "WE HAVE A BREACH!"

Aurors were all scrambling to a certain part of the prison; Rodolphus looked out through the bars curiously. From somewhere out of his sight he heard several screams of terror. Flashes of light reflected dully on the stone walls for a couple minutes before all spells, and all screams stopped: replaced instead, by a sudden drop in temperature and an overwhelming feeling of despair.

"No…" Rodolphus whimpered softly as he scurried to the back wall of his cell, curled into a ball and shaking. "No…Please, not them…"

As he said this, three tall, black-hooded wraithlike creatures glided into his visual range. It had been nine years since any of their kind had set foot (do they even HAVE feet? Rodolphus thought frantically) onto the grounds of the prison.

One of the dementors grasped one of the bars of Rodolphus's cell with its decaying hands. The cell bars froze over, and crumbled in a pile of ice chips.

Another figure in a black cloak came before Rodolphus. This figure was just as tall, if not taller than the dementors, but the way this individual moved told Rodolphus that this newcomer indeed had legs and was walking, not gliding. The figure entered the cell and stood just a few feet from Rodolphus, who was still cowering against the wall.

"Be not afraid." the cloaked being told him, "This day, your freedom is won. I have given it to you." The being extended a black gloved hand. "Take my hand of friendship, and allow me to guide you along this path of victory and vengeance."

Rodolphus's fear now turned to distrust of this newcomer. "Who are you? How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't." the being replied, "But if you choose to distrust me, my friends here haven't had a decent meal in ages; I'm sure your black and sinful soul would make a fine appetizer for them. And I can always find another way to get what I want. But if you choose to trust me, I can get you something in return. The choice is all up to you: Life, or Death?"

Rodolphus inhaled slowly. He had no choice; it was cooperate or get Kissed, which was NOT an option, not even on his worst days. But then again… "You can get me something in return?"

The being nodded. "Help me, and I will show you a secret forbidden magic: one…that can raise the dead."

Rodolphus nodded greedily. Raise the dead. He looked down at his forearm, which was plain, then looked at the photo of his beloved Bellatrix that lay next to him. Yes…I can make things right again! He stood. "You have a deal! I help you, and you help me bring my master back. What do you want?"

The being chuckled. "I desire…The Deathly Hallows."