Paris' equivalent of Knockturn Alley was a lot cleaner then its counterpart. Rue Noir was not a busy place during daytime but as soon as the sun sank under the horizon you could see more and more figures appearing from hidden corners, from the shadows under the roofs and narrow side alleys. I had appeared at its entrance during midday after drinking an aging and translation potion and brought myself a room in a nearby inn. The rest of the day I had been training with Notch. He was to apparate me from one end of the alley to the other as quietly as possible. He needed more concentration to apparate without the loud crack but he could if I just glared fiercely enough at him. It had the added effect of me slowly becoming immune to the effects of magical transportation, though I still emptied my stomach occasionally. After some time I felt ready to take matters to the next state.

"Do you see this group over there?", I whispered to a shady corner between a couple of trash bags where Notch, as invisible as possible for him, was hiding. The group of four wizards looked extremely ragged but they were watching the people who passed them carefully and looked ready to jump into action any time. I had no doubt they were bandits waiting for an easy victim.

"I will encounter them and pick a fight", I whispered. "The moment I say 'Nochsha' you will apparate directly next to me, grab me and apparate into my Gringotts vault." It was simply parsel for 'Notch, come', but to any non-parselmouth it would seem like a spell. "I don't want to have any time delay whatsoever, is that clear? As soon as we're there you will apparate me back directly to the exact same location, only five meters away in the direction I tell you, which will be either north, south, east or west. If I don't say anything, wait for further instructions. It is important that you act so fast that those wizards can not see you."

"Notch is not sure if he can do that", the elf said fearfully.

"You better try hard", I sneered. "Else I will be robbed and probably seriously hurt too." I cast a quick point me to determine where in the layout of the alley north was. If Notch was apparating fast enough not to be seen he would have little to no time to check where north was either but I was counting on the house elves magic for that. If their master called they appeared, they did not have to know where they were for that to happen. No one could really explain that but it seemed it worked both ways. You could sent an elf off to a place you didn't know the exact coordinates of and he would appear there. I could hardly believe that nobody had explored their talents before that way.

Under extreme stress like threat to their master, the magic of house elves experienced an additional boost and made things that were normally too hard or demanded too much concentration to be effective far easier for them. In short I was confident that my elf would manage.

"Stay until I call you", I said before going to approach the group.

I did not want to provoke them verbally. What else was gold there for? While passing the group I 'accidentally' lost a few sickles and stopped to pick them up. Within seconds the wizards were there. They were assuring me they'd want to help me but I kept calling "Non, mercy." Soon they lost their patience and when I grabbed the wrist of one of them who tried to sneak a few coins into his own pockets the atmosphere changed.

The first curse that flew was a simple stinging hex that I blocked with a quick Protego. I used the little time it gave me to orientate myself before whispering: "Nochsha."

Immediately I felt the pull of apparition but I didn't even wait to see the golden piles of galleons before me. Not a second went between the next murmured word, which was "South", followed by "Petrificus Totalus!"

I had chosen that spell because it was the most effective I was able to cast. The problem was that the incantation was so long, which made it not really handy in a real fight. However by beginning to mutter the first syllables while still being in the vault that second I needed to complete the spell was enough to orientate myself and aim at the next wizard that I appeared in front of. He dropped to the ground instantly. I stayed to throw a Leg Logger at the wizard next to him, memorized the positions of the other two and notched out of the way just in time to avoid a nasty yellow hex.

"West", I whispered, not wasting any time and promptly I was notched back to the alley. This time the distance was slightly off. Overcoming my surprise quickly I aimed a low kick at the knees of the wizard that stood not half a meter in front of me and notched back again.

"West", I said again, I needed more distance. When I appeared again the wizard I had kicked was still lying on the ground, cursing loudly while the other one was throwing flames around in panic. I hit him with an overpowered aguamenti straight to the face and he was thrown back from the force of the water jet.

Suddenly I was back in the vault. Only this time I had not called for it.
"Notch!", I said angrily. The elf appeared in front of me. He was breathing heavily and seemed to be close to a nervous breakdown.
"Notch is sorry sir! So sorry! The bad wizard whose legs master bound was aiming something dangerous at masters back, sir!"

I calmed down and sat down on my chest, sighing heavily.

"It's alright, Notch. You did well. I may not have been able to take them all out but truth to be told, I wasn't really expecting to. Thanks for watching my back."

Notch's eyes grew as wide as tennis balls.

"Master is so kind and generous! Notch was only doing his duty", he said but I knew he was proud of himself.

"Right. You seem to be pretty tired, though. We'll do this more often to see if your endurance grows. Also I have to brush up on my combat skills a little. For now just bring me back to the inn."

A long day lay before me and I was going to put it to good use. I had practice to do, books to read, people to question and a Necromancer to find.


Nekrys de Lyon was a very cautious wizard. He had experienced several not so pleasant encounters with the law in the past and now he made sure to check every informant, every customer and every target three, sometimes even four times. He did not like to underestimate his opponents. He had done that mistake before and he had learned from it.

That was one reason why Nekrys (which, of course, was just one of many aliases he used) was sitting in the shabby little pub with his black hood pulled deeply into his face. Shadows obscured it completely and his hair was cut short enough not to stick out either. Paris may have the most easy-going laws about his business but he wasn't about to take any chances.

The waitress in this pub was deaf, or at least she pretended to be and as far as he knew she had never spoken a word either. At least not to any ministry officials. That was why it was one of his favorite meeting places.

Nekrys checked his watch. His informant was late. He was supposed to bring the object at ten o'clock and it was already half past. This did not bode well. He would wait another five minutes and then he would be gone. Acrumantula venom was very hard to get and if he wanted to begin brewing that potion he only had one week to get something. It would be hard, but not impossible. Better then being caught by the ministry.

He shouldn't have trusted that idiot de Sable. He was rascal and nothing else. But beggars, whores and minor rascals had the most success smuggling highly illegal materials like this venom into the town. Since they were so magically potent they could not be transported via apparition, portkey or flooing. Passing them on from one bearer to the other posed a higher risk of the object getting lost but it was less likely to be traced back to him should the ministry interfere.

Again Nekrys looked around, trying not to make it too obvious. There were only two old hags in a corner of the pub and a thin, pale guy who he would bet was a vampire at the bar.

That's it. He was not going to wait any longer.

The french wizard was just about to stand up when the door to the pub opened and a man entered. He carried himself with the confidence of someone who had either no idea where he was or knew it exactly and was feeling at home. The man was tall with slightly unkept black hair and dark brown eyes. His clothes were mostly obscured by a dark traveler cloak. He looked about thirty in age, somewhat plain maybe, in short no one that would catch your eye in a crowd. However when he let his gaze pass the few occupants in the pub his eyes met Nekrys' and the strangest thing happened.

The man smiled – smirked he should say and suddenly he had the feeling he had to redeem that first impression. This man was not normal. The way he looked at Nekrys, who was after all a somewhat known dark wizard, it was the way a wolf looked at a rabbit.

Found you, his gaze said and Nekrys felt a shiver run down his spine. Under the table he discretely drew his wand.

"Nekrys de Lyon", the stranger whispered, strolling towards his table. "What a pleasure to meet you. And what a coincidence too. Do you mind if I sit down for a minute with you?"

The stranger sat without waiting for a response. Nekrys did not believe for a second that it was a coincidence they met.

Pull yourself together!, he said to himself. He was just nervous because of the raid the ministry was planning on the District. The guild was looking for a traitor. Of course he had never told anyone anything but under these circumstances everyone was a suspect. If this man was a ministry officer and he was being seen talking with him it would be his death. The guild never forgot and never forgave.

"I'm sorry sir, do I know you?", he said as coldly as possible, making sure every spy who might hide in the shadows could hear him.

"Not yet", the man answered, "through I hope to change that." His hand wandered to his pocket and Nekrys was gripping his wand tightly, but he did not attack.

The stranger drew his wand to cast a couple of privacy charms before he pulled out a little wooden chest wrapped in brown paper and put it on the table.

Carefully Nekrys continued to watch his expression which showed nothing but amusement. Finally he grabbed the package and unwrapped it. In the chest he wound five little vials with clear liquid.

"Your friend was in such a hurry earlier", the man whispered, still with that goddamn smirk. "He told me to be nice and deliver this to you."

"Really", he said tonelessly. The smirk became a grin, erasing every doubt about the condition of the original carrier. He could be lucky if he wasn't dead.

Nekrys pocketed the box carefully. It was still not impossible that this man was a ministry officer. He could try to lure him into a trap, to reveal something. But his behavior was very weird. Also his accent was typical for someone who took a translation potion. He was not from around.

"Thanks for helping out", he said politely. "Is there something I can do for you in return?" It was best to play nice for the time being. He had no idea who this guy was or or powerful he was.

The stranger beamed at him. "Now that you ask, there is indeed something", he said, his smirk growing a little bit cruel. "You see, I happen do be a professional curse... breaker but unfortunately I have no experience whatsoever in the subject you seem to be quite capable in. I thought that maybe we could share some of our knowledge with each other."

A customer it was then. Nekrys sighed in relief, but reprimanded himself shortly after. He did not make deals with people he did not know or that had at least been recommended to him. Then again, it could explain why this guy went through so much trouble to get his attention.

"What do you need to know, Monsieur...?", he asked.

"Raven", he said after only a second of hesitation. "You may call me Raven."

An Englishmen it was then. At least he had a starting point now.

"There are some dead people who are causing trouble", was the answer. "I want to get rid of them."

"If you're talking about inferi, just lit a good fire", he said angrily. "That should do it."

He waved his words aside. As if inferi were only a mild trouble!
"Ah, but I'm not talking about inferi. I am talking about ghosts."

Nekrys became very still. "How about asking nicely?"

Raven shook his head. "You cannot talk to that wretched person. Besides it's not just that I don't want it around me. I want it to be gone. I want it to be unable to talk to anyone anymore, do you understand?"
Yes. Yes, Nekrys understood very well. In fact customers like him were the main source of money of the guild. Murderers who were haunted by their victims or afraid they would sell them to the ministry.

It was most certainly not Nekrys' favorite job. He had become a Necromancer to solve the last mystery. To learn what kind of place the afterlife was. He had become a Necromancer to be able to communicate with the dead ones. And maybe – just maybe, to become good enough to try the impossible. What the creation of the Philosophers Stone was for the Alchemists was for him and every other Necromancer the resurrection of the dead. Not as soulless inferi, not as bodiless ghosts – that they could already do. They wanted to bring back the whole person. But thus far no one had ever succeeded. Still Nekrys didn't give up. He had lost too many dear people to do so. That's why he put up with the guild and nasty customers and curses and ministry officers hunting down his kind.

"I'm charging 500 galleons for an exorcism", he said, still watching the man warily. But he shook his head.

"No, I don't want you to exorcise it. I want to be able to do it myself."

Nekrys gave him a hollow laugh. "Impossible." The guild would kill him.

"I am a fast leaner."
"It's not about that. No one outside of the guild is allowed to know such things."

Nekrys bit his lip, hard. He shouldn't have said that! No one was supposed to know about the guild! Well, it wasn't as if the ministry didn't suspect they were somewhat organized but not as to which extend!

But Raven didn't react to the slip at all.

"Well, that is unfortunate. As you may have figured I'm from Great Britain and we don't have such a competent... group. Are you sure you cannot bargain an exception?"

Nekrys hesitated. His last doubts were gone now, no way this guy was an official.

"I do have something to pay of course. Something that might be more interesting then gold", the stranger whispered. Nekrys began asking himself why he did that when he had seen how he had cast several privacy wards before approaching his table.

"You seem to be interested in rare potions ingredients", the Englishman continued. "I happen to sell some myself but my latest in-between had a rather unfortunate accident involving a pissed off dragon and a small herd of bloodthirsty thestrals. If you give me the knowledge I might provide you with a quite valuable sample. And who knows, maybe we can cooperate in the future again."

Now that caught his interest. Necromancy was a lot about rituals and most rituals required potions. Most of the ingredients that were needed were either rare or illegal, in most cases both. The guild was always looking for new supplier.

"What are you offering?", he asked in his business tone. "I admit, thestral hair is hard to get by but we already have a supplier for that."
"I'm not talking about thestrals. I'm talking about venom."
"You have access to more acrumantula venom?"

Raven chuckled. "No, no, it's a far more potent venom."

Nekrys looked at him pensive. There were not many venoms more potent then an acrumantulas. At least not in its undiluted form without any refinements.

"Do you need a tip? It's big, scaly and can win any glaring contest", Raven said smirking.

Nekrys was thankful he was already sitting. Still he paled and for a moment he had to concentrate to make his hands stop shaking.

"A basilisk!?",he exclaimed incredulously. "Really? A goddamn freaking basilisk!?"

Holding thestrals was not allowed. Hatching a dragon was illegal. But breeding a freaking basilisk, that was, that was like being guilty of mass murder! Mass murder of innocent little babies! In fact, Nekrys though he remembered having read that you had to feed young basilisks the intestines of newborn children for them to grow strong.

Of course it was the most potent venom there was in the world. More like acid really. It was so potent in fact that it could melt not only solid material of almost any kind but also it could destroy most magical wards without losing any of its deadliness.

Even if Necromancy was originally meant to be about studying death and trying to reverse it, wizards had not progressed in that direction very far. Instead they had made experiments and researches with soul magic. A lot in his subject was about reconstructing, even healing sometimes. But there was also a part that dealed with destruction. The destruction of souls, to be more precise. Trying to kill a ghost. Trying to destroy a dementor. Trying to prevent people from coming back as a ghost. Exorcising a poltergeist. Basilisk venom was one of the very few things that could destroy a soul. Getting it was of course next to impossible but if you already had it it was the fastest and easiest way of destruction. A single vial of basilisk venom as big as the ones Nekrys got today would be worth a small fortune. But not only that. Raven made it sound as if he didn't have only one sample, but as if he had a enough to start a business relationship with the guild of Necromancers. Just having discovered an ancient skeleton wouldn't be enough for that. He must have access to a living example, and confident enough to be able to get its venom.

Yes indeed, Nekrys though with a shiver, he had done well not to underestimate that stranger.