Cantil: This is a one-shot I wrote for school and figured I might as well share it with you guys. I named the Dementor Pitch because I couldn't think of a better name, plus I think it fits. My other story, 'The Moonlight's Ruin' will be updated tomorrow. Enjoy everyone!
"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them... Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself...soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences in your life." ~Remus Lupin
A humanoid shape covered in dark hooded cloaks that were made up of ripped black cloth, hovered above the ground in front of a cowering child with brown hair and green eyes in an alleyway. The figure, known as a Dementor, looked grayed and decayed, its breath made a rattling sound, its hands were grayish and scabbed, it had empty eye sockets, and a gaping hole where it's mouth should be. The Dementor seemed to exude coldness.
As the Dementor came closer to the girl, an unnatural cold began to take over the alley, and light was sucked from the environment, making only their shapes visible. The Dementor took the little girls shoulders roughly with its skeletal hands, making her cry out in pain. The Dementor drew a long rattling breath and began to suck all the girls happy memories away from her.
The Dementor felt the girls happiness as she made friends at school, her excitement as she tore open her christmas presents, her kindness when she helped a kid with homework, and her nurture when she took care of a baby blue jay until it was able to fly again.
The Dementor who called himself Pitch, reveled in the feelings, the feelings of being alive again. How he wished he could feel these feelings all the time, but alas, as the girl took her last human breath, Pitch felt her happiness fall away to sadness and knew she was now condemned to his fate. She would now be a Dementor. Pitch quickly fled the scene, no longer needed here.
He floated aimlessly around the Forbidden Forest, not looking for anything, yet seemed to get more restless as time went on. He wished that anyone would understand. Understand what he was feeling, because he didn't even understand his own feelings.
Pitch felt an immense power coming not far off. He curiously floated to the source to investigate. He found a clearing, and in the middle of the clearing was a man dressed in all black flowing robes with a hood covering his face. He had a wand pointed protectively in front of him to ward off predators. Pitch felt the darkness and power that radiated from the man. It was intoxicating.
Pitch didn't realize he was too close until the man turned towards him and pointed his wand threateningly at Pitch's chest. Pitch ignored the wand, coming closer. The man raised his wand in warning, but Pitch didn't notice.
Pitch took in a rattling breath, and that's when he felt it. He felt the mans pain, his sadness, loneliness, anger, and hatred for the world. Unlike anyone he has ever seen, this man had no happiness, no love, no hope and dreams in life. He was a man without common human emotions, and it was then that Pitch felt something he hadn't felt since he was alive.
He felt sympathy. Sympathy for a man he didn't know, yet felt like he knew everything about him. Out of everyone he had taken souls from, he had never felt anything towards them. Nothing but happiness from people, yet this man, without even trying, made him feel alive again. Pitch knew then that he would do anything for this human. Not matter what the price.
*What do you want?* The man asked. If Pitch could show it, his face would have surprise written across it.
*You speak my tongue human?* Pitch asked in awe.
*Yes, now what do you want?* The man demanded.
*What is your name human?* Pitch inquired instead.
*Lord Voldemort.* Voldemort divulged.
*Pleasure to meet you...my Lord.* Pitch bowed in respect. *Perhaps I should introduce myself...I am Pitch, and I would like to offer up my services to you in anything you need.* Pitch proclaimed proudly.
*What can you offer me?* Voldemort solicited.
*I can offer you my powers, and as a Dementor I can make others of my kind serve you as well.* Pitch offered.
Voldemort smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a boy. Granted it was kind of scary when an evil man smiled, but Pitch thought it amazing that he had done such a thing. Pitch felt Voldemort's happiness at the prospect of Pitch's service to him. Yet Voldemort's happiness didn't make Pitch want to take it away. It made him want to preserve it and make it stay there forever.
*Very well. Follow me.* Voldemort turned away and Pitch followed when he began walking. Pitch didn't say a word as they walked, too caught up with his thoughts. To think he had been a miserable soul, wandering the earth in search of a purpose, and found Voldemort. A soul who is much like his own in many ways, yet so different.
Pitch grew sober as he thought about the other Dementors. His family. How was he to convince them to follow Voldemort? What would he say?
Pitch noticed something off about the way they were traveling. It was getting darker and much colder. The peacefulness seemed to vanish from the air, leaving tenseness in its wake. He floated faster to catch up to Voldemort's quick and purposeful strides.
*Where are we going?* Asked Pitch cautiously. Voldemort glanced sideways at him, not bothering to answer.
*We're here.* Voldemort finally announced. Pitch looked up from his thoughts. He gasped at the sight in front of him. The dark ocean was foreboding in its rough waves that crashed against the rocky shore. Across the ocean, Pitch saw a sight he was familiar with.
Azkaban Prison. It was the official holding grounds for wizarding criminals. It was also the home of his kind, the Dementors. Pitch's breath grew as heavy as Voldemort's gaze on him.
Pitch glanced at Voldemort nervously. He didn't know how his family would react to him siding with Voldemort, but he knew it would be tough to convince them.
Pitch took a calming breath, nodded to Voldemort in understanding, and floated to his home in the distance. As he grew closer, the building began to take shape and grow larger. It was a big building like the New York skyscrapers, but built out of cement, and it had magical wards surrounding it. Pitch floated through a window effortlessly.
He knew where his family would be located. He glided to a huge room in the middle of the building. His family was all floating around, some talking to one another, others waiting for more happiness. The Dementors would come and go, and Pitch knew it was rare for everyone to be in one place, but today luck seemed to be on his side.
*Pitch!* Yelled a small squeaky voice. Pitch looked around, and barely had time to catch himself from falling to the ground before a dark mass plowed into him. He wrapped his arms around the little boy tenderly.
*Hello Jon. You been good?* Pitch asked in amusement. Jon looked away guiltily, his soul-less eyes not giving away any emotion, but Pitch could always tell with him.
*Maybe...* Jon muttered.
Pitch laughed, it sounding more like a cough than anything. *What did you do?* He asked suspiciously.
*Well...I may have messed with the guards a little, but they deserved it! They called us names as we floated past. I couldn't just walk away.* Jon spat angrily, moving out of Pitch's embrace. Pitch patted him on the shoulder to let him know he was forgiven. No one messed with Pitch's family and got away with it.
*Well, why don't you help me gain everyone's attention for a meeting, alright?* Pitch said decisively. Jon immediately perked up.
*Of course.* He saluted, floating up to the middle of the large room. *Listen up everyone, Pitch has something he wants to say!* He called loudly, gaining everyone's attention. Dementors of all shapes and sizes turned to Pitch expectantly.
Pitch fiddled with his ripped robes in a nervous fashion. *My friends. I wanted to announce that I have joined forces with Lord Voldemort.* He spoke confidently. There was complete silence for a moment before a flurry of chaos ensued.
A series of *How could you's?* and *Why would you do that's?* were thrown at Pitch angrily. Pitch held up his skeletal hand, effectively silencing the room.
*Look guys. I joined Voldemort for personal reasons, but I can say that Voldemort can offer us plenty of souls to feed off of, no scorn or torture, and freedom from the ministry .* Seeing his families faces, Pitch decided to try a different tactic.
*Come on guys, how many times have you said that you were tired of the ministry taking advantage of us and ordering us around? How many times have you said you wanted freedom from the prison? How many more of us have to suffer because of them before you see that we aren't meant to be caged up like this?* Pitch knew of only one more way to convince them.
*I know you don't trust Voldemort, but you don't have to. Just trust in me. Please, I know we will be happier if we leave.* Pitch begged. Jon stepped forward, cautiously. Pitch waited for someone, anyone to step forward, but when no one else did he turned to leave in defeat, Jon the only one following.
*Wait.* a raspy voice called. Pitch looked back at the group curiously. It was Ben who had called to him. Ben was an older Dementor with many more years than anyone he knew, making him also the wisest and most influential. Pitch turned to him fully. *You said Voldemort offered us freedom, protection and souls, right?* Pitch nodded silently. *Then count me in. Anyplace is better than here.* Ben floated up to them.
With Ben's words others began to follow, until no one was left. Pitch nodded to Ben in thanks. Pitch then led them out of the prison, easily avoiding any guards in their way.
He led them to Voldemort who stood by the shore waiting. Pitch floated in front of him and bowed low. Voldemort didn't show it, but Pitch could tell he was pleased with him. *Very well. Follow me.* He said, repeating the words he had said to Pitch and leading them away from the prison and to their new life. Pitch moved first and with that, the other Dementors slowly followed his lead.
Pitch knew from then on his family would always support him. They may not be his real family and they may not be considered human, but they cared, and that's all Pitch could ever ask for. If Pitch could have smiled in this moment he would have. He looked to Voldemort in happiness. This man had saved Pitch without even meaning too, and Pitch couldn't be more thankful. Pitch vowed that he would protect Voldemort for as long as he could, and he did.
Pitch followed Voldemort to the end, and when the time came and Voldemort was about to die by Harry Potter's hands, Pitch turned Voldemort into one of them by using his happiness, and they were later seen together sucking the souls out of children as they held hands. Forever misunderstood, yet no longer caring.
If you ever see a Dementor, remember this; "You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no . . . anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just — exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever . . . lost."
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban