Whilst I Linger On Top of the Land: Gall

xdbxdbxdbxdbxdbxdbxdbxdbx

The hunger floated above its territory, and smelled that it was good.

Most of the old food still had plenty of nourishment left, and the newest food had finally stopped causing trouble. The other hungers were pushing and jostling, trying to get at the warmest and juiciest bits of the new food, but this hunger was a young hunger; it knew it wasn't as strong or as cunning as the older hungers, and knew it couldn't compete with them. It had learned that the hard way.

So, instead, the hunger bided its time, and settled for some of the older food. It knew this old food quite well, from the many times it had tasted it before. Its flavor was bitter, and sour, and sharp, but still sweet enough to be worth the effort.

"Dromeda," the food said. It was talking in a way the other food called 'moaning', the hunger knew. Food often did that, when the hunger was having a taste. The hunger didn't know what a 'Dromeda' was, but this food often moaned about it.

The food moaned other things, too:

"Dromeda, why?"

"P-please..."

"Kill him..."

"He's a Mudblood, Dromeda, don't do it..."

"Why? You... Why do you love him more than you love your sisters?"

"Find other husbands... Other misters..."

"Kill him for you, set you free..."

"Please... Don't do it..."

"Don't leave me..."

So many noises. So much moaning. On, and on, and on. Didn't the food get tired?

The hunger drifted over to the next food. It was another old food, but an odd one. Most of the time, it was not-food. Sometimes, the food would be food, but never for long. It was tricky, tasting food that was almost never there.

Right now, the food was food. It was also making noises, but not the noises it usually made. When it was not-food, it sometimes growled, or whined, or howled. When it was food, it made the same noises, but they sounded like words: "James" and "Lily" and "Harry" and "Wormtail", and "sorry", always "sorry, sorry, sorry".

Now, the food wasn't curled up in its hiding place under the lying-down-thing. Bed? Maybe. Yes. It wasn't under its bed. It wasn't making its usual noises. Today, the food had crawled up to the sticks that kept the food penned in. Was it trying to escape? No, just making noises at the new food, in the next pen, where all the strongest hungers were feeding.

"Taylor," said the old food. "Hang in there," and "you can do it," and "don't give up", and noises without words.

Now, the old food wasn't food anymore. The not-food limped back towards the rear of its pen, crawling back under its bed. It still smelled like fear and pain and defeat, but none of the warm smells that the hunger liked to taste. That was annoying. The hunger hissed, disappointed that it couldn't feed on the old food, now that it was not-food.

Maybe the hunger should fly back to the other old food, with its Dromeda? Or down in the other parts of the hungers' territory, where all the other food was?

But the poison-foods got upset when the hungers fed too much on those foods. The poison-foods said that those foods were "low-security inmates", which meant the hungers weren't allowed to feed on them as much, or as often. The poison-foods made a lot of demands like that, but they also brought plenty of food, so the hungers went along with it. The poison-foods also brought their big-poison, which the hungers didn't like at all, so the hungers had learned how to not get caught doing things that upset the poison-foods.

The big-poison was soft, and warm. Much too warm. It burned the hunger worse than the warm air outside the hungers' territory. The hunger had heard the food make noises called "sunshine", and "daylight", when they talked about the burning warmth that lurked outside the territory. The food also said that the poison-foods' big-poison was "glowing", with "bright light". Maybe all glowing, shining things were bad for you?

The hunger wasn't sure what "glowing" or "shining" meant. The hunger had no eyes, which was good, because that meant it didn't have to feel the warm things burning it through the eyes it didn't have.

Days and days and days ago, the poison-foods started invading the hungers' territory more often; not to bring food, just to look at the other foods. The poison-foods always brought their big-poison, which made the hungers sick.

Once, the hunger had heard one of the foods talk at another food about a thing called "foie gras". It was made by taking a not-food called "goose", or "duck", and feeding it with "grain" and "corn" and other things. Even when the goose-duck was full, and didn't want to eat anymore, it was fed more and more, pushed down its throat. Then, the goose-duck's "liver" grew big and fat and juicy, and the food took out the liver and ate it.

The hunger thought the big-poison might be like that - it was soft, and much too warm, and it made the hunger feel full and not-hungry in a very bad way. This was why the big-poison was so awful. The hunger should not be foie gras. The hunger should eat foie gras - big and fat and juicy food, full of good, nice, happy taste.

The only good thing about the poison-foods invading the hungers' territory so often, was that the hungers didn't have to look after the foods all the time. Days and days and days ago, the hungers had to give the food "gruel", so the food didn't get so thin and weak that they became not-food. Sometimes, the foods got so upset, they stopped taking the gruel, trying to become not-food so the hungers couldn't feed on them anymore. Then, the hungers had to push the gruel into the food, and help them "chew" and "swallow". Maybe that meant those foods were foie gras, too?

Now, the poison-foods made sure the foods took their gruel, and the hungers only had to help some of the time. The poison-foods also dug the holes outside the hungers' territory, where they put the foods in the ground when the foods were all used up, and they became not-food.

This was dumb. The poison-foods must be dumb, for doing such a dumb thing. The hungers did it right. When one of the hungers got too old, and fat, and full of tasty things it had found in the food and eaten, the other hungers would take it. The old hunger was too fat and too slow to get away, which was how you could tell it was ripe.

Then, the other hungers took it aside, and filled it with eggs, and soon, a new litter of hungers could feed and grow strong, until they were big enough to fly and feed on their own. The foods were just dumb, when they kept throwing things away. Or maybe you couldn't lay eggs in a food, when it had become not-food?

At least the poison-foods had stopped demanding that the hungers should dig holes with their bare claws. Now, the poison-food dug their own holes.

The hunger smelled a fight brewing, and listened closer. The older hungers were squabbling over the new food. That food had been more annoying than all the other foods and poison-foods put together.

First, the new food had been good to feed upon.

Then, the new food had started causing trouble. Lots and lots of trouble. The worst part was when the hungers started choking, and were forced away from the food. That meant the hungers couldn't feed on the new food, or on the old food that was sometimes not-food, or the old food that was always food. It had to be the new food doing it, because none of the other food smelled like they had the poison-sticks that spat out big-poison.

The new food was not a nice food. The choking, and the pushing, and all the other things it did - none of them even felt like the big-poison. They were much, much worse.

Now, the new food was food again, and the hungers could feed, and that was good.

Now, one of the older hungers had caught hold of the new food, gripping the food's "hair" in one claw. The old hunger was pulling the new food closer to the sticks in front of the pen, that kept the food separate from the hungers. Was the old hunger going to true-feed, eating every tasty thing inside the food in one go? That was disappointing, because the hunger wouldn't get to feed on the new food any longer, and the poison-foods would be upset when they found out, because the new food hadn't tried to escape from its pen, so the hungers weren't allowed to true-feed. It was also good, because the new food had caused a lot of problems, and once the old hunger had true-fed, the new food would be still and quiet and not-food.

Now, the old hunger had pulled the new food close enough to true-feed. The other hungers were trying to shove it away, so they could get a chance to true-feed, but the old hunger was strong, and held on. Now, the tastiest thing was coming out of the new-food. The hunger could smell it, even from this far away. Now-

...Big-poison! That meant there were poison-foods, invading!

The hunger retreated, hissing and snarling, along with the other hungers. One of the poison-foods ran over to the new-food, but the hunger didn't stay to hear what happened. The poison-foods would be upset, and that was always bad for the hunger's digestion.

xdbxdbxdbxdbxdbxdbxdbxdbx

A/N:
Dementors (i.e. monsters that feed on happy memories and positive emotions) being vulnerable to the Patronus Charm (a spell that's powered by a strong, positive memory) is a curious incongruity that I've never quite been able to grok. The foie gras theory is the best explanation I've come up with, other than ones that can be summed up as "because MAGIC".