Department of Mysteries: July 1979
Two Unspeakables stared at the tattered black Veil as it fluttered in a nonexistent wind. A faint whispering emanated from the ancient archway and the shorter cloaked man glanced over at his partner, "Are you sure we should be attempting this?" The taller shrugged, "We're supposed to be studying it." The short man scowled, though his hood hid his face from the other, "This isn't studying. This is taking an ancient legend and a scrap of medieval parchment and guessing they might be related in an insane attempt to stop a Dark Lord."
The whispering of the Veil was the only sound in the Death Chamber for a few moments. "Yes. Well. Nothing else has worked." Both Unspeakables shifted uneasily. "The Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix are…" "Both losing members far too quickly. We have to try."
"You do know, even if it works - if the little we've managed to discover is correct - they won't even know for another fifteen or sixteen years. The war might be over by then." The taller stepped a little closer to the Veil. "Maybe. I think it's worth it, this war has been going for close to ten years, and it shows no signs of slowing." The short man massaged his forehead, "What if we accidently bring back another Dark Lord? Have you thought of that? We can't ask for specific people, the Fates determine the souls that are reborn. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not the worst Dark Lord that has ever tried to take over the world. He's not even the worst of the British Dark Lords in history. What's to say we won't just make it worse?"
An uneasy silence filled the room; disturbingly, even the voices behind the Veil seemed to fade.
"I hadn't thought of that."
"But you still think we should do it."
"…Yes."
The short Unspeakable sighed and looked up toward the ceiling as if muttering a prayer before giving a small laugh. "Then we tell no one. We haven't told anyone of our research. We have not asked for permission. We have no idea who is spying for You-Know-Who, and we don't want him to be able to hunt them down. We leave it unknown for years, until just before they regain their memories."
"Agreed."
"Swear it."
"I shall aid you in calling upon the Fates to bring seven souls of wizards long dead into rebirth. I will tell no one of our endeavors, until the time which we agree upon."
"And I shall aid you in calling upon the Fates to bring seven souls of wizards long dead into rebirth. I will tell no one of our endeavors, until the time which we agree upon."
"So mote it be."
"So mote it be. And Merlin grant that we bring not a worse fate down upon our world."