[moscow] live it once, can't live it twice [alla]

Varavara Stepanovna was in shock.

Not because her eldest brother was dead, but because the responsibilities of overseeing his funeral preparations had somehow fallen upon her. Varya had met Venyamin Stepanovich only two times in her life: once over ten years ago at their father's funeral, and more recently when he showed up in Kaliningrad during the Ministry's infiltration of Durmstrang. It was only because of the confrontation at Durmstrang that Varya even knew that he worked at the Ministry. Venya was 24 years her senior and had quite a low opinion of Varya's mother, not that she could blame him. Her mother was two years younger than her now deceased stepson, and ever since she had become a part of the family, he had been very successful at avoiding them. As Varya was actually quite fond of her mother, she had never felt obliged to reach out to Venya and he certainly didn't try either.

And now, apparently, he was dead. A dead bachelor, at that. As for the rest of his family, Venya's other sister, Sofia, was away with her husband celebrating their who-knew-how-many-years-it-had-been anniversary in Bora Bora. Their other brother, Nikita, was in America, presumably ignoring any owls he was getting about now being the oldest living Zakharov. Varya had no idea how to get in contact with Venya's mother, not even sure if she was still alive and kicking or if she even wanted to be in contact with them, seeing as she sort of abandoned her children years ago. So it was up to Varya to travel to Moscow and visit the funeral parlor and somehow make all the decisions that wouldn't somehow upset the entire family. No pressure.

As the healer apparated to the appropriate spot for this particular funeral parlor, a thought crossed her mind. Would she be required to identify the body? How sure could she possibly be? There weren't any photos of him hanging around her home, and her last meeting with him had been a little clouded by rage and didn't serve her facial recognition skills too well. At least she was pleased to be in Moscow. She was already making plans to not make the entire day a waste. Varya stepped into the lobby of the funeral parlor, shaking the snowflakes from her hair as transferred her coat to a hook on the wall. She smoothed down her robes, a warm, black wool, that she had decided to wear to show that she was at least somewhat upset by her current situation. Sure, she was more inconvenienced than inconsolable, but still. No one else needed to know that she didn't like her brother, let alone had no interest in dealing with his corpse.

@Alla Chaikovskaya

Alla was working at the funeral parlour for a long enough time now. Her boss mostly trusted her - although he constantly reprimanded her for practising Necromancy at his funeral parlour - and he had discovered his passion for travelling, leaving his apprentice behind to deal with the business. Alla didn't mind that much. For the most part she had to deal with the dead rather than the living and that was a simple task. What caused her problems was just that she had to deal with people who were mourning their deceased family members or friends. While Alla would be in sorrow too if she lost a family member, she had trouble to feel for others. For her a new corpse mainly meant that she had a new opportunity to test her Necromantic skills.

The new addition to the morgue was a man who was about the age of her former boyfriend, the former headmaster of Durmstrang Anton Petrovych Knyazyev. The girl looked at the dead man for a while before rolling up the sleeves of her blouse and working magic that her boss had taught her to make him look his best and as though he was merely sleeping. She was expecting a family member to show up soon to say goodbye to the man and to make the necessary arrangements. Alla was curious to find out if the family wanted to waste much money on a pompous funeral or if they just chose the basic package. 

Since Nikolai Daniilovich was absent for the whole week, Alla had brought Burmin, her pet skeleton, to work to keep her company. When she heard the doorbell, Alla smiled to herself. She could imagine all too well what her boss would say if he'd see the skeleton now. He'd demand that she'd hide him and behave all consoling and gentle around the mourning relatives. However, since he wasn't there, Alla wasn't too concerned about that. For a moment the girl even wondered if she should send the skeleton to greet the visitor. She refused to do so though, thinking that word about this would reach Nikolai Daniilovich and she'd risk to get sacked.

She put the sleeves down, hiding the cuts on her lower arms that were not healing properly anymore. In fact one cut was so reluctant to heal that she had even put a small bandage around her wrist. The girl did not mind this too much. Being surrounded by death, wounds seemed so insignificant.

As she stepped into the lobby, opting for a kind and compassionate little smile, Alla came to an abrupt halt. The person she was facing was Varvara Stepanovna. Why was she here? Her utter confusion was quickly replaced with comprehension. Of course! The dead man was a relative of her former professor! "Varvara Stepanovna," she greeted her all business like. "You have my deepest sympathy." She gestured into the office where they usually offered tea or coffee while they showed the relatives a picture book of coffins and urns, of flower bouquets and wreaths, of grave stones and table clothes for the funeral feast.

"Please do come in and take a seat. Can I offer you a cup of tea or coffee? Or rather something a little stronger? A vodka maybe?" While she had learned the professional attitude rather well by now it confused her to be greeting not a random stranger but a woman she actually knew comparably well. People who were in sorrow were tough to deal with, they got overwhelmed by their feelings, they felt helpless and desperate. When strangers suffered it didn't touch Alla at all. She had learned to put a distance between herself and the grieving clients but she wasn't sure she could keep the distance if her former professor was visibly touched by what had happened.

Ah, this was going to complicate things. Apparently the last time she had met her former student, Varya had neglected to inquire as to where she was working these days. It shouldn’t have surprised her, really, that Alla was working in a funeral parlor, considering the overall theme of their last meeting was necromancy. The funeral parlor was actually a really wise choice, considering everything. But that didn’t change the fact that somewhere in this building, Varya’s oldest brother lay out on a slab, collecting dust.

“Alla Artyomovna,” Varya replied in the same business tone that Alla addressed her with. “Yes, thank you,” she added with a nod, trying to look as deeply troubled as she possibly could, which wasn’t that much. The healer didn’t expect the younger woman to know her family history and was probably just as surprised to see her as Varya was. She stepped into the office as Alla indicated she should. They were going to get down to business. At least Alla should know better than to try to sell her anything she most certainly didn’t need, right? And maybe Varya would get the chance to update her on what she had come up with so far about her somehow-necromancy-related potions work.

She sat down, a grim look on her face. Was she looking sympathetic enough? True, Varya had never cared much for her brother, but people outside the family weren’t supposed to know that. Family drama stayed inside the family, that’s just how it was. She took the offer of vodka quite well, nodding as she answered, “Vodka, yes.” She was in “mourning” and she could very well drink whatever she pleased. She peered around the office as Alla poured her a drink. “Yes, Venyamin Stepanovich Zakharov. .My brother,” she offered without being prompted too, her voice somewhat softer than usual as she continued looking around. She remembered to frown and promptly did so.

Varya finally focused her gaze on the room’s other occupant, relieved that she would be able to deal with her rather than having to put on an even bigger show for someone she wasn’t familiar with.

Having seen so many mourning people in the recent past, Alla was aware of the fact that there were different types of grief. Some people were numb, staring absentmindedly at something while they were barely responsive anymore. There were those who couldn't stop crying, who let out their emotions without trying or being able to stop them. Some people were angry, even aggressive because they couldn't cope with the situation.Then there were others that focused on some details of the funeral or even on something unrelated to that who appeared all business like but who had their weak moments where it became obvious that they were indeed deeply troubled. The way a person grieved a family member was partly connected to their personality but also to their relationship with the dead person and the way the relative had died.

Alla had a feeling that her former professor was not deeply touched but for some reason the woman seemed to try to act as though she was mourning her brother's death more than she actually did. Maybe the young Necromancer only got this impression because she knew Varvara Stepanovna as opposed to most other people who came to the funeral parlour. That, at least, Alla told herself. It was probably just her impression that the other woman tried to look sad  and she could hardly ask Varvara if she was putting up a show for her. Then again she could probably ask if she had been close to her brother.

However, it was hardly the first thing she should ask. She had been present at several of these appointments with her boss, knowing that her role was to make the arrangements and stay in the background. She was not here as a friend or therapist for those in grief even if she knew them.

"I'm really sorry about your loss," Alla said, looking into the other woman's eyes, opting for a sincere and sympathetic expression.

"I'll be right back with your drink," the girl said and went towards the office door. Then she hesitated. She didn't really know why she did it but instead of getting the drink herself, she summoned her pet skeleton to carry tray with a bottle of vodka and a glass. Controlling Burmin was an easy task for most of the time. However, Alla was not exactly in the best state lately. The experiments were weakening her a little and letting Burmin carry a tray with fragile things on it required good control and concentration.

As the skeleton's steps became audible on the stone floor, Alla went back into the room and took a seat. She didn't speak at once as she needed to focus on Burmin until he put down the tray on the table. Then she smiled a little sheepishly. "This is my... assistant, Burmin." Turning to face the skeleton, Alla addressed him. "Please, pour our client a drink," she said softly and watched how the skeleton did as she had told him. Concentrating so hard on him, Alla felt a little shaky and was glad that she was sitting. As Burmin held out the glass for Varvara to take, Alla held her breath. Hopefully her former professor did not feel affronted or anything because she had introduced her masterpiece at a place such as this.

"Would you like to skim through catalogues of gravestones, coffins and all that? Or do you already know what you are looking for?" Where was Nikolai Daniilovich when she needed him? Alla knew that if her boss had been present he'd sent her away now before the conversation could get any more awkward.

Varya paused a few seconds too long after hearing Alla express her condolences for her loss. “Ah, yes, thank you,” she added slowly, nodding. “Quite a pity.” She didn’t elaborate one exactly which part of this situation was the pity, but the woman was definitely thinking about her own situation being the terrible part, rather than her dead brother. Her own inconvenience over his, of course. Varya could hardly expect Venya to put forth any effort if their roles were reversed, so she was still lacking any sympathy for him.

She nodded again quickly as Alla went to get her drink, but her faked frown for her brother soon turned to a real one for her lack of promised alcohol. The healer looked puzzled as Alla returned empty handed but decided that perhaps there was someone else Alla had told to fetch the drinks. It’s what Varya would have done, anyway. “What…” the question formed on her lips, intending to ask what needed to happen first so that they could take care of this dead Zakharov business, but it quickly trailed away as her drink was carried into the room. By a skeleton. Varya didn’t need to employ her years of training and experience as a healer to know a skeleton when she saw one.

“But how…?” Varya asked quietly, her gaze darting from the skeleton, to Alla, back to the skeleton. She watched intently as the skeleton moved forward, setting its tray down on the table in front of the two women. Assistant, hmm? Interesting word choice on Alla’s part. The skeleton responded to Alla’s request to pour the vodka and Varya shifted to look at the younger woman as he (it?) did so.  She could see the shakiness from her straining to, what Varya assumed, control the skeleton. She hardly had time to worry about her, however, as she was handed a glass of vodka by a skeleton. As Varya accepted the drink, she found herself thinking that this was definitely not how she had expected her morning to go.

And now Alla wanted to get down to business. Varya sipped her drink as Alla proposed her options for proceeding. She set her glass down and smiled, a genuine emotion welling up inside as she did so. “You know, as much as I’d like to get all of this out of the way, I think I would much rather ask you about,” Varya tilted her head in the direction of Burmin, “this.” She narrowed her eyes at her former student, a smile still on her face. However impressive their last meeting had been with the pigeon, this entire skeleton walking and serving drinks was even more so. So many questions were bouncing around in her head, like how Alla was able to control an entire skeleton, or if she was only focusing on parts of it at a time, if she was currently wounded to be able to control it, if she had to have an open wound the entire time the skeleton was active.

But the question she settled on was: “Where did you get him?”

Maybe it had been inappropriate to summon Burmin. Nikolai Daniilovich would surely reprimand her for doing so. However, Varvara Stepanovna's reaction was actually quite reassuring. Her former professor seemed to be really impressed. A smug smile spread across Alla's features as she observed the older witch.

The fact that Varvara smiled at her and wanted to talk about Burmin rather than her deceased brother made the young necromancer wonder if she was right with her suspicion that the older woman was not really mourning her brother's death so very much. However, it was not up to her to judge her and it was of no importance to her. Especially not now that Varvara expressed her interest in learning more about Burmin. The girl felt more than flattered that the more experienced witch seemed impressed with her skills. 

The smile on Alla's face widened some more. She briefly turned to her pet skeleton and made him bow to Varvara before he retreated a little until he stood by the door like a proper servant. Everybody who had the chance of observing the young witch with Burmin could see how much she adored the skeleton. Her approach to Necromancy was basically a playful one even though it was dark magic.

"Well," she began, trying collect her thoughts as not to overwhelm Varvara Stepanovna with too much information. "I got him at a dark arts shop during a summer break when I was still at school. I purchased the entire set of bones and spent the remaining weeks of the summer break in my room at home, working on animating him. As you can probably guess it takes a little time to get him all set up like that." That was probably the understatement of the day. Alla had not only invested every waking hour for several weeks on this project, she had also needed much of her own blood to animate the skeleton. She could remember very well how appalled her family had been and how weak she had felt during that time.

The witch watched with sincere interest as the skeleton bowed and returned to stand by the door, so casually. If anyone else had chosen that exact moment to enter the room, it wouldn’t look like Burmin was anything more than a model skeleton used for learning purposes. And if they wanted to be technical about it, that was exactly what it was, wasn’t it? Varya raised an eyebrow as she considered the skeleton; she turned back to Alla, her eyebrow lowered and her slight smile still returned to her face as she listened to the other witch explain herself.

Varya wasn’t sure if she was pleased or disappointed that Alla had purchased this skeleton at a dark arts shop. She had been expecting a slightly more gruesome answer, like she had dug up her specimen in the dark of the night while a thunderstorm was brewing. But all the same, the young woman had purchased a skeleton, which was not a purchase that just anyone made. And then to spend the entire summer working on him? That was also more than just a little impressive. “Certainly,” the healer replied in turn, acknowledging that the things most worth their outcome usually took quite a bit of time. She was no stranger to investing time in her work, even for very little return.

She peered at the skeleton again before turning her attentions back to Alla Artyomovna. “And you can carry on with your normal business, all while controlling him?” Varya didn’t think she had seen both the skeleton moving while Alla was doing something other than controlling him, but she was going to give Alla the benefit of the doubt here. “That must be taxing on you,” she added before lifting her glass to her lips again. Did Alla have to reanimate the skeleton every time she wanted to work with him, or was it just one big reanimation at the beginning, then the skeleton just – rested, for lack of a better word – in the meantime? And again, the questions of if Alla was currently wounded in order to control him. Varvara Stepanovna’s thoughts were once more straying to the potion she was still working on for Alla, even though the necromancer hadn’t shown too much interest in it when Varya proposed the idea. She assumed Alla would be more receptive to it if Varya had an actual potion to accompany her proposal so she had been working on it since their last meeting.

Alla certainly seemed like she was enjoying herself, being able to show Varya her pet project, and Varya was certainly pleased she didn’t have to talk about her dearly departed brother anymore.

To say the very least the interest Varvara showed flattered Alla. She couldn't help but keep smiling proudly. It was obvious that her former professor had more questions on her mind than she actually asked her. The girl was happy to answer all questions, the one she had just heard and all those that would certainly follow later. After all, her pet skeleton was an interesting subject of conversation. The young witch could keep talking about necromancy in general and Burmin in particular for hours if anyone was interested enough to listen for so long.

"It depends on what I want him to do and what I do," Alla started to explain. "I can do some things while controlling him if he's just walking and maybe carrying my handbag, if he does simple tasks like that. With the tray with a full bottle and a glass it's tough. If you don't focus well enough on him and keeping the balance, he'd possibly drop it. I can do all sort of routine tasks while letting him fetch something that's not as fragile. We can also walk in step," the girl grinned at that. She always enjoyed walking through wizarding areas with Burmin carrying her handbag for her. Most witches and wizards looked at them then and even if they didn't understand how it worked and even if they didn't say anything they still sort of acknowledged her skill.

"It is a bit straining, I have to admit that," Alla confessed. This was still an understatement though. Most of her necromancy experiments were taxing and keeping Burmin 'alive' for most of the time was a constant weakening factor. Sometimes the girl collapsed onto her bed in the evening after work, unable to move anymore at all. Nonetheless she wouldn't change a thing. Even if it would make her feel better she would not want to dispense with her pet skeleton. Burmin had become a part of her and sometimes, despite the effort it took her, she felt like he was actually assisting her with her work.

"It's worth it, though," the blond witch mused, "I really like having Burmin around. He keeps me company, assists me and," a chuckle escaped her, "he's a good dancer." Now she wasn't being serious but she had indeed made him dance a few times in the past and quite liked the sight of that.

Alla seemed more than pleased with what she had been able to accomplish and Varya was not about to fault her for that. She couldn’t help but smile slightly as the necromancer talked about the various activities she could do with the skeleton while still maintaining her own simultaneous functions, the idea of the skeleton carrying her handbag for her the favorite mental image of them all. That was certainly something that Varya had never seen before, despite all her travels, and it seemed like it was something that Alla did often enough that she didn’t have to give much thought to it. Varya had almost been hoping that the younger witch would ask for the help that Varya had offered previously but maybe she would have to offer again, a bit more forcefully.

But, there it was. It was a bit straining. That was exactly what the witch had been hoping to hear. This time, however, she wasn’t pleased because the other woman was suffering, as was her usual feeling, but because it meant that there might be hope after all for her potion to find some semblance of success. She just needed to invent the potion first, of course. Varya had been working on it, of course; her mother’s kitchen had been converted to a laboratory of sorts as she brewed different things, potions in various states of readiness and potency, ingredients strewn about the place in an organized chaos. But still, she had nothing to show for it. And when she did have something, she didn’t have anyone to test on, yet. Varya had never much been a fan of using herself as a test subject, for obvious reasons.

Anyway, the point was that Varya was nearly certain she would be able to brew something to take off some of the strain that any necromantic magic caused the young woman. And that potion could get her the platinum cauldron in the potioneering guild  she had been working towards for the past few years. Nevermind that she would also be helping Alla, in the long run. Minor details.

“It sounds like Burmin,” Varya felt only slightly strange at using a name to address a skeleton, “was well worth the investment then. Especially if he can dance well,” she added, amused. That would be something she would like to see, but not now. There were more logistics of the thing that the healer wanted to discuss first. “Have you given any more thought to the idea I proposed when we last met? About the potion?” She took another sip of her vodka, draining the glass before setting it back on the table.

It was hard for Alla not to ask if Varvara wanted to see Burmin dance. She would have liked to show her skill there and, to be honest, the girl found her dancing skeleton absolutely adorable.  However, she bit her tongue, thinking that it was inappropriate. After all, her former professor had lost her brother and had actually come to the funeral parlour because she wanted to plan the funeral and not because she wanted to see a dancing skeleton. Besides Alla wasn't sure if she was even strong enough to make Burmin dance.

Her health issues were sometimes getting a real problem and when Varvara asked about whether Alla had given the potion a thought that her former professor wanted to develop, she nodded. "In fact, yes, I have thought about it some more," Alla admitted.

"First though, would you like another drink?" The young witch didn't wait for the answer to her question and already summoned Burmin again. Seconds later the skeleton poured vodka into the Varvara's glass. She then directed him to an empty chair on which the skeleton took a seat and then sat there cross legged.

"I think it would be very helpful to have a potion that reproduces blood cells. The constant loss of blood is quite difficult to compensate. Furthermore I would be happy to have a sort of ointment to disinfect and seal wounds. I know that there are already such ointments but there are cuts that..." she paused, feeling embarrassed, "well, they don't heal anymore. Not properly anyway." After another pause she continued in a low voice. "Or maybe the dagger I bought is to blame for that." She shrugged and stared at Burmin instead of looking at Varvara.

Yes, she had thought about it. But what had she thought about it? Now, Alla was offering more vodka to Varya and that was one tactic that the potioneer so often used herself when she was trying to distract someone or change the subject. How unfortunate. Surely there would be another young and willing necromancer that she could peddle her potion to. Someone would recognize that Varvara Stepanovna was offering something of value. Still, Varya nodded at the offer, scooting her empty glass closer to the edge of the table so the skeleton wouldn’t have to reach over her to fill it up. They would just get down to business about her brother, Varya could perhaps ask just one more time about the potion, but then she would be on her way.

The sullen look on her face didn’t last for too long though. As she was taking a sip from her newly full glass of vodka, Alla continued about the potion, saying that she actually did want something and even had some ideas for what she wanted. “I think I’ll be able to help with both of those things, actually. I’ve been going a few different directions with a few different brews, but I haven’t been too sure what you actually needed. Or wanted, even.” She paused to drain more liquid from her glass. “I think I’m nearly there with a potion that counteracts the loss of iron in the blood, which is a main thing you lose and a main thing you need to function properly. I wouldn’t be surprised if you feel a bit fatigued from all of this, and that is most likely why.” She paused again, this time to think.

She continued, her gaze focused on the skeleton as she thought aloud. “A potion to reproduce red blood cells at a higher rate would help the iron issue though, and would also help a few other things as well. I think that would be something good to look into.” Varya turned her focus back to Alla, “And the white blood cell count is so important for healing, even when you do have magic on your side. They’re easy to boost up when they’re lost for non-magical reasons, but it hasn’t yet been achieved to replicate them easily when the blood loss is magical in nature.” She nodded again, not really expecting much of a response from Alla where this level of detail was concerned.

Varya stood up, not intending to go anywhere, but just to pace around the small office as she thought some more. “For the cuts and the dagger, though, I would need to see your process to be able to suggest anything.” She looked around the room as she paced, wondering if Alla would even be willing to demonstrate her abilities, something a little bit bigger than the pigeon. Varya hadn’t been paying close enough attention to the actual ritual of reanimating the bird at the time, anyway, so she wasn’t going to be much help without seeing it again, and bigger.

Convenient that she knew of at least one recently deceased someone nearby.

It was probably the first time that Alla spoke so openly about the problems that she encountered while practising Necromancy. Another first was that she had found someone who was not into that branch of magic but was still willing to have this sort of conversation. So far Alla had encountered three types of people - those who were dealing with necromantic magic themselves, those who were appalled by the thought of it and those who were curious about it but soon lost interest when she came to speak of details.

Of course, Varvara seemed a little too interested in creating a potion that would help Alla with her experiments but that was not a bad thing, after all. If the older witch could really come up with something to reduce the impact that her necromantic work had on her health, then that was really a positive thing. Alla watched as her former professor drank some more vodka and listened closely when she came to speak of the potion. While Alla was decently skilled at Melioration and Alchemy, the young witch was clearly unable to create a potion like the one they were talking about herself.

"Indeed," Alla agreed, "the loss of blood is the actual problem and if a potion could reproduce red and white blood cells it should help me with the fatigue and the healing of the cuts." She was mostly summarising what they had both already said but it was exactly the point of a potion that could possibly help Necromancers with their work.

When Varvara got to her feet, Alla was a little surprised. However, she soon realised that the older witch wanted to pace up and down the room whilst thinking about the potion further. Her comment about her needing to see Alla's work made the girl listen attentively. Was her professor suggesting that she should practice Necromancy here and now? Naturally there were enough possibilities to give a little exhibition of necromantic magic at the funeral parlour and if Varvara actually said it clearly then Alla would have no qualms when it came to reanimating the brother of her former professor. As it was though, she was a little hesitant. What if she misinterpreted the other witch's words?

"I'd be happy to demonstrate some necromantic magic," the young woman began tentatively. Then her eyes lit up as an idea came to her mind. "You know, my boss is a little reluctant when it comes to... let's call it new business ideas. However, I've been thinking that for some people who are mourning the death of a relative it might be... errr... beneficial if they could give their loved one a last hug or if they could drink a last drink together..." her voice trailed off. "I've always found it a little strange to have a funeral feast without the... honorary guest." A nervous little smile flickered across her face and she looked down, feeling rather self-conscious. What if her professor felt affronted now and left? Or even worse, if she told Nikolai Daniilovich about the things she had just suggested.

Varya assumed that with the way Alla was discussing her boss that he wasn't in the parlor today. She returned her student's smile, not waiting for Alla to look back up at her before she resumed speaking. "You know I've never been one to squash the dreams of my students, Alla," she said. While that couldn't be farther from the truth as Varya actually enjoyed knocking students down a rung while she was still a professor, she was indeed sincere about helping the particular one in front of her.

"Would you like to give your business idea a little practice? Kill two birds with one stone, after all." The woman nodded, indicating towards where she assumed the body of her brother was lying in wait. "Venyamin Stepananovich," she added with a curt nod, giving her total consent for what was about to come. All that they had shared while he was living was a name, and now Venya was about to be more helpful than to her than he had ever been, even if he didn't want to.

"However, maybe we can skip the hugging and drinking together?" She didn't need to get into the family drama right now, but there was a very large chance that Venyamin Stepanovich wouldn't even recognize his youngest sister. Would he recognize her at all anyway? How much of the memories were retained in a reanimated corpse? Well, it was probably too late now to have any qualms about what Alla was about to do.

The healer stepped back to her drink, finishing it in one swift move. Setting the glass down, Varya turned to Alla and nodded once more. "After you."

Alla did not see herself anymore as Varvara's student. In her branch of magic she was more proficient than her former professor. Nonetheless the young witch liked to hear Varya did not intend to squash her dreams; not that she was able to do so anyway. Alla's passion for Necromancy and her determination to go on with her experiments no matter what were enough to keep her going on even in hard times when she got no support.

A grin spread across the Muscovite's face. Of course she wanted to practise Necromancy in general and her business idea in particular. To her greatest pleasure her former professor even offered that she could work with the corpse of her late brother. "I'd be delighted," Alla breathed, excitement reddening her cheeks.

"You don't need to hug him or drink together if you don't want to," the necromancer said. It did not matter to her what Venyamin Stepanovich was made to do, after all. "The technique I'm using doesn't fully bring him back. So don't expect him to... recognise you."

Varvara emptied her glass of vodka and then indicated that she was ready to go ahead. Alla nodded and lead the way into the morgue. "This might not be easy..." she said and her voice trailed off, leaving open whether she thought that the magic she was about to perform wasn't easy or whether it would not be easy for Varvara to meet the deceased brother.

Alla pulled back the cloth that was covering the body so his face and upper body were exposed and looked at the man for a moment. She took a deep breath and pulled out her dagger and a rune. Somehow she felt her heart pounding more than usual. It was normal that she felt excitement when she was performing this sort of magic but this was more than just mere excitement. For the first time the girl considered failure. What if she did not succeed in animating the dead man in front of his sister?

With slightly trembling fingers she run the blade across her thumb without batting an eye and soon enough blood poured out of the wound. With her thumb she painted an ancient symbol of life on the man's chest and muttered a spell in an ancient tongue under her breath. Then she painted the same symbol just a lot smaller on the rune and placed it between herself and the corpse on the table. Once that was done, she laid her right hand onto Venyamin Stepanovich's forehead and when she lifted her hand after a few seconds, the corspe twitched.

The blush had long left Alla's cheeks as she paled in the process of performing her magic. She focused hard on making the man sit up on the table. His eyes opened but his gaze was empty. Alla swayed a little from the exertion of controlling a grown human body and made him slid of the desk and stand on his feet. The corpse made a few steps towards Varvara and gave her a little nod.

Alla's voice sounded hollow as she asked the older witch "and what should I make him do now?"

The tiniest part of her was worried that they hadn't been on the same page when she suggested the use of her brother's corpse, to separate trains of thought not intersecting. But thankfully, Alla was delighted, which was more on board than Varya had anticipated. She smirked as her former student grinned, happy to see that she had passion for this. Even if something went horribly wrong with Venyamin Stepanovich and he somehow ended up unrecoverable, at least he would have been even further incapacitated for learning's sake.

"Oh, that's good," she replied, relieved that she wouldn't have to interact with her eldest sibling in any fashion resembling an actual personal relationship. She hadn't exactly anticipated having a conversation with her dear departed Venya when she headed to the funeral parlor in the first place. "I'll be fine," she reassured her, no stranger to death or dying. The dead people coming back to life was new and something she hadn't witnessed while studying at Durmstrang, but she was fairly certain that she could handle whatever Alla was about to present.

They were in the morgue now; the temperature further resembling the outside air more than the office did and she shuddered slightly as she adjusted to the change. She was more focused on the body on the table, however, inching closer as Alla pulled the sheet back to reveal her brother's face. He resembled her father more than she remembered and she found herself almost mesmerized as she studied the lines on his face, almost forgetting the whole reason she was staring at him at all.

Alla's movement out of the corner of her eye brought her back to reality. She straightened up and cleared her throat as she refocused her attention on what was happening in front of her. There was quick blood, followed by symbols and spells and runes. She wanted to stop her and ask what each step was doing, find out if she had plans to stop her thumb from bleeding, but knew better than to interrupt when someone was concentrating on something so important.

She watched, eyes wide as Alla placed her hand on her brother's forehead, and brought movement back into the previously still face. Varya was much too focused on Venya in front of her to pay any mind to Alla any more; she took a step back as he sat up, then took a few more steps back as he stood. She backed up into the neighboring table and couldn't retreat any farther as he straightened up. She quickly used her wand to tie the sheet tight around his waist; Varya and Venya were definitely not that close.

Varya didn't nod, didn't blink, wasn't very certain what she was supposed to do at all. She finally turned her gaze back to Alla; she was pale, paler than before, and she sounded weak as she posed her question. "What can he do?" She didn't want to see him do anything in particular, she was much more interested in Alla's process than the actual outcome. She sidestepped the corpse, coming around it and drawing up closer to Alla. "Are you alright?" Her eyes flicked to Alla's thumb, still bleeding, not bothering to voice her wonder at why she hadn't healed it yet.