Thomas,
I hope this letter finds you in good health, and that your underlings are not too much of an annoyance.
Over the Yule break, you expressed an interest in the nuances of necromancy, and I shall gladly provide the aforementioned nuances, perhaps in more detail than strictly necessary. But it is rare that anyone takes a genuine interest, outside of my friends and a few relatives.
The first thing I will tell you is that it is highly annoying. The dead talk, a lot, and that can get in the way of my sleep, especially if they are bickering over something. Take Salazar Slytherin and Linfred de Stinchcombe, for example. They can debate potions and potions ingredients for hours, if not entire days. These professional arguments are ordinarily enlightening, but when they get started at an ungodly hour, before important tests, or Circe forbid, exams, it quickly turns annoying because silencing spells do not work if the source of the noise is on the other side of the veil. As such, I have lost many hours of sleep to arguments between Salazar and Linfred or Salazar and Rowena.
Another thing is that ghosts are tangible to a necromancer, and look exactly like they did in life with a faint silvery aura – instead of the transparent silver that they appear as to the average wixen – whereas spirits retain their living looks, but appear slightly transparent. This is quite amusing, because I can say with absolute certainty that Sir Nicholas was most assuredly a redhead (and it clashes with his robes, which are eye-wateringly Gryffindor red), and his terrible stylistic choices are only rivalled by that of Godric Gryffindor himself (red hair and red robes are a clashing combination, as evidenced by Ronald or myself in Gryffindor robes with red hair).
It does have its perks though. Not only do I have reams of information on anything from the usage of basilisk venom in potions, to obscure spells such as the heritage revealing one, to the creation (and destruction) of dementors from Ekrizdis himself, I also can tell you with relative accuracy (and unbearable sass courtesy of how I gained my knowledge from Antioch) what the steps to complete reanimation are.
From the spirit of Antioch Peverell – and interspersed with snarky remarks and many dramatic eyerolls from Cadmus and Ignotus Peverell – I am passing the information to you.
The first step to complete reanimation is creating an Inferius. As Ignotus eloquently put it, creating an Inferius is basically Necromancy for Painfully Green Dunces material. It is that basic. It is also where most stop, the cowards.
The second step is to create a runic circle consisting entirely of necromantic and soul magic runes, and make sure the Inferius does not leave it. According to Cadmus, a Stupefy, Incancerous or Petrificus Totalus will do the job.
The third step is to restore the body to the best state you can. If that is impossible, you will have to resort to creating a golem, and as such Ignotus sincerely hopes you know alchemy, because he is not detailing the process. I admittedly self-studied Alchemy for this purpose alone, and I assure you Hermione spent half of fourth year giving me looks that questioned my sanity.
The fourth step is to call forth the individual's soul. This is apparently laughably easy with Cadmus' ring, according to our mutual insufferable ancestor, but said ring has apparently grown far too fond of being worn by the women of the House of Gaunt – similar to Salazar's locket – and as such is picky about who can use it.
The fifth and final step is to place the soul back into the original body (Inferius), or a relatively featureless golem, and ensure verisimilitude. I will not repeat the brothers' incessant bickering that happened at this point, but I assure you that it is not suitable for a letter between civilised people.
That last remark has sent the three into an argument as I write, and attribute any ink splotches from this point forward to trying not to laugh like a certain former cousin of mine, although my hair has resorted to cycling through colours with my suppressed amusement, because I'm trying not to alert a certain toad to my abilities, as she is currently observing Binns' class, which is as monotonous as possible, and I have long resorted to asking the spirits of anyone involved to tell me how it actually went, because goblin wars became outdated by Yule of 1991.
I hope to hear back from you soon. I also will not apologise for Bella's death due to disownment – intra-family vengeance, as Neville Longbottom is related to me via marriage (Callidora Black's marriage to Harfang Longbottom, who Neville has told me is his great-uncle Harfang and the only person Algernon Longbottom is afraid of).
May your followers not annoy you until next month at the earliest with dear old Bella's absence.
Best wishes,
Alhena Black
A/N: This is a letter that fits into Chapter 9 of another of my unfinished fics. Alhena is a sasspot, the half-sister of Sirius and Regulus, and the walking definition of orderly chaos.
I love messing around with the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black for no reason except that I can.