Chapter Thirteen: Dear Cousin

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All was quiet at the Ministry of Magic. Well, not everything. The woman beside him wouldn't shut up. The man sighed through his nostrils and wondered for the fifth time why he decided to bring her along. He wondered why he even decided to pluck her from death's grasp.

"What is the point in bringing Potter's little family back to life. Why not just bring the Dark Lord back now? It would be a lot easier if - "

"For the last time, Bellatrix," the man said, "the point is if the Dark Lord is to come back, we want to put on a show for him. It's a lot more fun to let Potter watch his family suffer than to kill him out right. Plus, I need the practice. Now, lower your voice, or even better, stop talking before we get caught!"

The man never liked Bellatrix. They had their squabbles and disagreements in the past. He was more than delighted when the news got out that she was dead. It was a shame that he had to waste his talents to bring her back to life, but Bellatrix was useful. He hated to admit it, but he needed her.

"Why is it, Irodore -"

"Do not say my name," he hissed at her.

"And why not?" She asked, "I'm piqued."

"I do not wished to be remembered by name. I want to be remembered for what I did and you can bet that I will be remembered."

Bellatrix huffed and said, "Why is it, Mighty Death Awakener, that when the Dark Lord summoned us that night he was resurrected, you did not come? He did not even ask why you weren't there. It's almost like he expected you not to be there."

"Keep your nose out of my business. What I do regarding the Dark Lord is nothing for you to worry about," Irodore said, not bothering to look back at Bellatrix.

The Dark Lord had noticed years ago that Irodore had a special talent in the Dark Arts. He gave Irodore the task of figuring out how to bring back the dead in case the Horcruxes did not work. He was told not to show his face until he was able to do so and here he was months later.

Irodore turned around a corner and stepped into the lift waiting at the end of the hall. He turned around and watched as Bellatrix picked her way towards him, looking for anything valuable to steal.

"Hurry up," he hissed at her, "I only made enough Polyjuice for the hour." Bellatrix rolled her eyes at him as she stepped in.

She stepped closer to Irodore than was necessary. The lift was small, yes, but there was no need for her to be this close to him.

"You know," she said. Bellatrix traced a finger down his arm, "If you can give life to those who have long been dead, then why bother bringing the Dark Lord back?"

"What?" said Irodore as he took a step back from her.

"Your gift makes you more powerful than him. Why bother when you can be the new Dark Lord?" She asked with a wicked grin.

Irodore's face turned red with rage. "Stop sucking up to me, Bellatrix. When I awaken him, I will be telling him of this. You'll be lucky if he only cuts your tongue off!"

She said, "I was only joking and besides it's fun hitting your nerves." They rode the rest of the way in silence, which was a relief for Irodore.

   The lift stopped moving and the doors opened as a cool feminine voice said, "Department of Mysteries." They stepped off and Irodore lead the way to their destination, carefully avoiding any offices that contained late night workers.

   Bellatrix did not speak until they made it to the empty archway. "How are you supposed to bring back my dear cousin when anyone could be in there?" She said the words "dear cousin" with enough venom that even a snake would be afraid.

   Irodore did not answer as he circled the archway. He examined the translucent blue veil blow on a nonexistent wind. He heard the whispers inside it as they beckoned him to join them. He finally answered, "Sirius Black was the last person to fall through the Veil. I'm hoping it will be him to come out."

   "And if it isn't him?" She asked.

   "Then it's not my problem," he said.

   "What if he doesn't make his way to Potter? Lupin never found his way to him."

   He glanced at her then back at the veil preparing to perform the spell. "That is not my problem either."

Irodore raised his wand and yelled, "Suscitare mortuos!" A jet of purple sparks shot into the the Veil. The whispers from within now hissing with anger as a figure stepped out of the archway.

Irodore caught a glimpse of the man that walked out. It was indeed Sirius Black. His work was done for the night. He threw his hood over his head and grabbed Bellatrix's arm. They apparated out of the Ministry of Magic without another glance.

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