Askaban spirit. Glimmer of Hope.
Peace. Unusual strained peace. But peace nonetheless.
Dementors were rendered useless. And silent. As they always were.
Residents. Flooded with memories. Are calm.
For once.
A constant presence.
Everyday.
No more than a few minutes.
One glance... then Gone.
Again
She had everything.
They thought.
Friends. Happiness. Chance of a Family.
So, they thought.
Maybe not.
She did not speak.
Ever.
No one thought she could.
She had never proven otherwise.
Dementors knew better.
They dreaded and anticipated the days she came.
Joyful memories. So many.
It could be overwhelming.
So many.
But, she used to talk.
No more.
Not even the dark creatures knew why.
But she was there.
Every day.
