A/N: This is a bit different. I've seen a lot of Azkaban and dementor stories, but none like this. I normally don't like Ron all that much, but I liked this idea, so I wrote it. I've been writing a lot the past couple of days, it seems. Second one-shot in less than twenty four hours.
I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable content.
On the way to Hogwarts for their third year, the Golden Trio were catching up, sending side-long looks at Professor Lupin. Hermione and Harry seemed comfortable enough around the man, but there was something about him that made Ron feel like he was missing something.
His name just seemed to ring a bell in his head. He tried to figure out why, running through his memories, but he couldn't figure it out. He would probably have to ask him mother. He frowned at the thought. Sure, he loved his mum and loved it when she sent him food, but he was trying to not rely on her too much.
Despite what everyone seemed to think, Ron was not an idiot. He didn't try overly hard in school, sure, but that was because he felt like a lot of it wasn't important. How was knowing the rules to some obscure spell really going to help him? He payed more attention for the practical things. Unfortunately, his work was inferior to Hermione's, as she always pointed out.
He was shaken out of his thoughts when the train stopped. He blinked, but instead of listening to his friends, his eyes caught on a cloaked figure out the window. His breath caught. He had only seen a dementor once, but he was sure that that was what he was looking at.
His breath suddenly came out in an icy puff and the window froze. He shivered, and looked to his friends. Hermione's eye were wide in terror, and Harry had started to curl in on himself. His eyebrows narrowed. What . . ?
Suddenly, the compartment door opened and one of the creatures was swooping in. Harry's body stiffened, his eyes rolling back, screams ripping from his lips. Hermione started screaming, as well, but she was not having as an extreme reaction. Ron felt no abnormal fear.
"Expecto patronum!" Professor Lupin suddenly said, and then the creature was gone. The three of them dimly accepted chocolate.
While Harry and Hermione's bodies were wracked with violent shudders, Ron was more confused than he'd ever been in his life. He was cold, sure, but other than that he was more or less fine. The only fear that he felt was the normal fear that comes from watching your friends scream in terror.
He tried to shake the thought off, and he ate his chocolate in silence.
. . .
It was late November when Harry lost the quidditch match because of the dementors. Ron found himself watching in horror as Harry's body plummeted. When someone caught his body with a spell, he felt crippling relief. He let out a shaky breath and looked around to see the other Gryffindors.
Every person that he saw was shaking and their eyes were blurred over, presumably with their worst memories. Ron, once again, felt nothing out of the ordinary. Once again, it was colder than it had been before, but he didn't feel crippling fear and he hadn't seen any of his worst memories.
Ron didn't want anyone to question something he didn't understand, so he forced himself to wrap his arms around himself and look scared. It wasn't as hard to fake as it should have been. He was certainly scared of why he couldn't sense the dementors.
. . .
It was toward the end of Christmas break when Ron couldn't stand it anymore. Harry's godfather wanted him dead, and Hermione had gotten Harry's Firebolt taken by McGonagall. The tensions in the school were high, and his curiosity had been a constant presence in his mind for the entire school year.
Ron borrowed Harry's cloak under the guise of exploring the castle, but he really started to make his way to the gates of Hogwarts. He had to know why the dementors didn't effect him. As he got closer to the gates, the temperature dropped and his breath swirled out in smoky puffs. The frozen ground started to crackle under his feet.
He was about five feet from the gates when a dementor on the other side swooped closer as he removed the invisibility cloak. Ron's heart leapt into his chest, but he didn't back away. He steeled himself and he looked the creature in its eyes.
"Why don't I get scared when you're around?" he demanded.
The dementor paused, seeming to almost tip its head to the side. It leaned slightly closer, and suddenly jerked back. It let out a rattling laugh. Before he knew it, a dozen other curious dementors had approached him, too. They swirled around him, but they kept a few feet of distance.
"Blimey," he said as one of the suddenly reached out a rotten hand to poke him in his side. "Don't do that!"
The dementors paused before they all started rattling laughter. Ron tugged his clothes tighter around him, attempting to get warmer. He frowned at them. "Why do you make it so cold?"
The dementors backed up slightly, seeming to understand what he said, and in the next second the temperature was normal. They then got closer again, and he noticed that more of them were approaching. Within minutes, there were over forty of them hovering around him in curiosity.
Rather than feel creeped out, though, Ron just felt really curious himself. Logically, he knew he should be terrified since they could suck his soul out so easily. He had never been overly logical, though.
"Wait," he suddenly muttered. "If you guys feed on souls and that's what makes people feel so bad, why don't you feed on my soul?"
All at once the dementors started rattling, and he realized they were trying to talk. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Er, sorry, but I don't know what you're saying."
The largest dementor he'd ever seen suddenly came towards him, the others parting to let it through. It raised a rotten hand towards him and touched his arm.
"What is your name?" he heard, but it wasn't out loud. It was almost like the voice had echoed through his mind.
Ron blinked. "Was that you?!"
The dementors seemed almost amused. "Yes. What is your name?"
"Ron," he answered, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "Why?"
The dementors rattled again, but this time he could faintly make out words. He shook his head, a headache coming on. The dementor touching him turned to the others. "Silence. He is not used to hearing us."
The other dementors were silent. Ron's eyes flickered between the dementors quickly. "What's going on? I just wanted to know why I can't feel you guys."
The dementor turned back to him, and he almost wanted to see its face under its dark hood. "We do not know."
"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "This is brilliant. Absolutely bloody brilliant." He sighed, removing his hand from his face. "Any ideas?"
The dementors all seemed curious in the larger one's opinion. It shrugged its shoulders. "I would have to ask the queen; she would know. This has never happened before."
Ron blinked in shock. "You have a queen? Hm, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I don't really know anything about you other than that you guard Azkaban."
Suddenly all the dementors were angrily rattling, and the larger one raised a cloaked arm. The others fell silent when they saw Ron rubbing his throbbing temples.
When the larger dementor spoke again, it sounded angry. "Azkaban was once a nice island, but since your foolish ministry," it spat the word, "placed your prisoners there it has been a desolate place, full of insanity and darkness."
Ron felt confused. "I thought Azkaban has always been a prison?"
The dementor rattled in a pained breath. It shook its head. "No. Long ago, our Lord Azkaban was in charge of the land. Trees and grass bloomed, there were human citizens of Azkaban that were happy, and we dementors never went hungry." It made a disgusted noise. "We do not feed on fear; we feed on happiness. We have been starving for centuries. It makes it hard to control ourselves around humans."
Ron blinked. "So that's why you have such a bad effect on humans? You accidentally take too much happiness and leave only bad things? And you're starving because the prisoners aren't happy at all, so you don't have a food source."
The dementors nodded eagerly, looking pleased. "Yes. We once had a mutually beneficial relationship with humans. Lord Azkaban would allow us to safely feed, and we would protect the people, in return. Unfortunately, the Azkaban line faded years ago."
"Did he not have kids?" Ron asked.
The dementor paused. "There were rumors of him having a child when he went to the mainland, but it was centuries ago. Even if it were true, his bloodline would be so diluted that it would take a miracle for someone to have an irrefutable claim to the island."
Ron frowned. "That's horrible. Wait, how old are you?"
The dementor let out a rattling laugh. "Dementors are immortal, human. We do not age, and it is near impossible to kill us. I was there when the first Lord Azkaban made the treaty with us."
Ron was about to respond, but caught sight of the moon and cursed. "Sorry, but the sun's about to raise, and people are going to notice that I'm gone. I need to get back in the castle. Can I come back when I get a chance?"
The dementor nodded. "Come in a fortnight. I need to speak with the queen. I should be back in time to let you know her thoughts."
"Okay," Ron agreed and he quickly said his goodbyes. The dementors parted so he could go and he put Harry's cloak back on. He hurried back to the castle.
. . .
Exactly a fortnight later, Ron made his way back to the gates as promised. When he arrived, all of the dementors flew over to him quickly, floating around him. They seemed almost . . . happy. Weird.
The same dementor from last time, the one who promised to see the queen, floated to him. The dementor seemed to be buzzing with energy.
Ron was expectant. "So? Did you get to talk to the queen?"
"Yes."
"And?" he asked. "What'd she say? Does she know why you don't effect me? Please tell me it's not because of some stupid soulless ginger thing."
The dementor tilted its head. "I can assure you that gingers do, in fact, have souls. Surely humans don't truly think that?"
Ron shrugged sheepishly. "It's a muggle joke of some sort. My dad gave me a book full of them."
The dementor shook its head, seemingly trying to shake off the strangeness of humans. "No, the color of your hair has nothing to do with anything. The queen has a theory, though, and I need you to do something to test it."
"What is it?" Ron asked, agreeable enough.
The dementor swept a crystal ball-type thing from its cloak. Unlike the ones they used in divination, this one was a dark blue with purple cracks in it. Mist was swirling inside of it. "Hold this."
Ron looked at the crystal ball warily. "Why? What's it going to do?"
The dementor gave a mysterious laugh. "If my queen is wrong, then nothing. If she is correct, then it will react. It will be nothing dangerous or painful, I can assure you."
Ron weighed his options, and eventually nodded. "Sure. Why not?"
He accepted the crystal ball, and for a moment nothing happened. All of the dementors seemed to deflate, and he frowned. He started to shrug. "I guess she was wrong then. Sor –"
Swoosh!
A gust of cold wind suddenly swooped onto the grounds, and Ron held tightly to the crystal ball. It was glowing a bright and fierce purple, and from the faint cracks, dark blue mist flooded Hogwarts.
The blue mist swirled over the grass, across the lake, into Hogsmead, and up to the doors of the castle. It flowed up over the walls of the castle, covering the windows. The purple light should have been blinding, but Ron kept his wide eyes glued to it.
The dementors were immediately in action, rattling laughs echoing across Hogwarts. They flew around Ron happily, cheering. The large dementor suddenly grabbed him and swooped into the air with him.
Ron latched onto the dementor and kept a firm grasp on the crystal ball. Suddenly the dementor took him back towards the ground with a burst of speed, happily laughing.
Ron was set back on his feet just as the glow started to fade. The mist was still thick and coated everything. Ron let out a somewhat shaky breath. "What does that mean?"
Abruptly all of the dementors, all hundred of them, swooped back in. The largest held its head up happily. "It means, Ron, that you have a claim to the title of Lord Azkaban, and you can retake the island and help my people."
Ron felt the air get knocked out of him in shock, but one thing stuck out. "Your people?"
The dementor straightened out its stance into one much more regal than before. "Yes. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Caelan, King of Dementors. Welcome, my Lord."
As one, the dementors bowed to Ron. The redhead stared at them all blankly for a long minute, then promptly fainted.
A/N: And that's all! Review and let me know what you think.