Dementor/Dudley Dursley


The lady in pink showed Richard and I the black and white pictures of our targets.. I noticed that one was very large, and the other rather skinny. It was the large one that caught my eye, so I told Richard he could have the skinny one.

Little did the lady in pink know, we weren't hunting tonight, we were dating.

The large one's face was perfectly plump, and his belly was rotund in all the right places. He had the thickest of calves, and his chubby hands were clutching a very large piece of chocolate cake.

This made him very happy.

In fact, he was one of the most cheerful souls I had ever seen.

So much life.

So much energy.

So much happiness.

I think it was his happiness that attracted me to him the most, and I just couldn't wait to meet him.

By 8pm, Richard and I were ready to go, and we begin our journey to Little Whinging in search for the young men in the pictures.

As we passed a field of flowers, I thought it would be kind if I picked a poesy for him, just to make a good impression. Unfortunately, as I extended my hand over the flowers, they froze up and wilted, leaving me with nothing but a pile of dead love. Sometimes it's hard being me.

I didn't let this discourage me though, as I knew he would like me, poesy or not.

As we reached the town, the rain began coming down hard and the wind was harsh and cold, so I knew the young men would be undercover.

Alas, it was Richard, and not I, who spotted them ducking for cover in an empty tunnel.

This was it, I told myself. I would finally get to see the large 'target' in person.

"Now Douglas," Richard told me, "I will let you go in first. Just stay away from the skinny one."

I let out a rather girlish giggle. "Of course Richard! You know who I'm after."

I swooped down towards the tunnel and raced towards the young man of my dreams. I found he was even more beautiful in person. You could actually see his rolls of fat rippling in fear. What a sight it was.

Usually I don't just rush into things, but I just couldn't wait this time.

As soon as I was close enough, I leant in for a kiss and I believe, took his breath away.

Though there was something wrong. He didn't seem happy, he seemed scared. It was like he didn't even notice how beautiful I was. Blood even began trickling out of his ear, which is never a good sign. Was there something wrong with me?

Before I could contemplate this, a blinding flash came hurtling towards me, and I was pushed back into the sky.

I hate it when that happens.

It's always so much easier to find dates in Azkaban.

In fact, I kind of miss Sirius Black. He was never this difficult. He just lay there and I did my thing.

Richard and I had failed our task, so I returned home in disgrace.

"Why didn't he like me?" I asked myself, as I floated in front of my mirror. If I could have shed a tear, I would of.

Dementors are always associated with depression and tragedy, stealers of happiness, but that's not true! We're only looking for happiness so we can be happy too. We just want someone to love us, and to hold us, someone to kiss us all night.

I looked into the mirror again and took off my robe.

I realised how hideous I was.

My bones were grimy, and my joints were scratched. Don't even get me started on how big I was.

I wish people could just see me for me, rather than judge me on my appearance.

But unfortunately, I know I will never be seen as anything other than a frightening creature of the dark.

I know that no one will ever see my true beauty.

And I know I will never be loved.


Written for the '52 Weeks of Writing 2013 Competition'.

Prompts used: Cold, rain, tragedy.

Optional prompts used:Depression.

Bonus prompt used:Blood.