Disclaimer: See Chapter 01


Harry Potter and Pure Blooded Truths


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Chapter 7

In a good mood after spending the afternoon reading a few chapters in the birthday gift that Fred and George had sent, "Come-Up-Ons, or How to Cheek Your Enemy," Harry slipped out of his Aunt and Uncle's house to get some fresh air. It had been a while since he had had the book in his hands, yet he was still chuckling at some of the things he had read.

The thought of using some of those lines on the dreaded potion master brought forth more than just a small smile to his face. He knew that he would never be able to actually confront his professor and use any of those lines, but just picturing the look on his face if he did was enough of a reward to satisfy Harry's need for entertainment.

Harry was definitely in a good mood, made even better because this was his 16th birthday. He just felt special today.

As these thoughts occupied Harry's mind, he absent mindedly took the shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. As soon as Harry realized he had accidentally ended up in the area where he first saw his godfather in dog form, he let out a big sigh and hung his head. If only Sirius hadn't died a few weeks ago, he'd be spending the summer with his godfather instead of the Dursleys.

Mrs. Figg, out searching for her cat, Mr. Tibbles, noticed Harry as he passed by her house. His demeanor caught her attention so she continued to watch Harry as he continued to ramble down the street. She noticed that his shoulders suddenly slumped as he peered down the darkened street. The poor dear, she thought. I wish he could live with me but Albus insists that he's safer with those horrible relatives of his, her thoughts continued while her facial features became tight and drawn in disapproval.

Just when Arabella was contemplating having Harry over for tea, she noticed a dramatic change in his posture. Harry was looking at something down the alley, she was sure of it. She strolled further down the sidewalk to see if she could catch a glimpse of what he was looking at and saw nothing but the dark alley. Harry continued to stand there, frozen in his tracks for several minutes with his chin jutted a bit forward, while his eyes never wavered from their point of interest.

An uncomfortable feeling started niggling at Arabella, and she grew concerned. Slowly and cautiously she crossed the street to ask Harry if he was alright. She reached out and touched his shoulder in an attempt to announce her presence as he still hadn't moved.

Without uttering a sound, Harry slowly, almost mechanically, turned his head as if to look at her but Arabella could tell he wasn't focusing on her, rather it was as if he didn't even see her. Those large vacant green orbs sent an involuntary shudder through the woman. Before she could compose herself to prod him, Harry ever so quietly voiced a question that as far as she could tell wasn't directed to her, but voiced anyway.

"What is that and what does it want?"

The woman looked down the dark alley and could not see anything. She started to take a step forward but stopped in her tracks when peripherally she saw Harry tense up even more. Now, definitely alarmed that something was amiss, she started fumbling with her bracelet, desperately seeking the large ruby gem. After a few tense moments, she found the one she was looking for and immediately started pressing it in rapid succession.

While she waited for help to arrive, she stared down the dark alleyway with all her might, willing to see what had Harry's attention. Had she had even a fraction of superman's visual powers, she would have bore holes into the darkness from the sheer intensity that she was staring with. With every passing second, she became more tense, she had never known that seeing nothing could be so unnerving.

Having been apprised of the added precautions Dumbledore had taken this summer, Remus knew that the alarm sounding in headquarters had come from Arabella. Not knowing where to apparate to and not wanting to waste time scouring Little Whinging on foot, Remus, along with Shaklebolt had performed a scrying spell over a detailed map of Little Whinging and found that the distress call emanated from a public muggle roadway.

Not wanting the Ministry's involvement for breaking The International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy of 1692, the two Order members disillusioned themselves before apparating from headquarters, battle ready.

CRACK, CRACK came the double apparation sounds, mere minutes after Arabella had released her hold on the gem encrusted bracelet.

Having grown up in a wizarding environment, Arabella was familiar with the sound of apparation, but she saw nothing. Where were the wizards that had apparated, making that tell tale sound? The sounds with lack of visual confirmation brought to the surface the fear that she had been barely able to contain up to that point.

But before she was able to scream for help, grab Harry and run, or have her brain process and formulate any plan of action, she felt a large hand grasp her forearm and heard a whispered, "Got your call, Mrs. Figg, we're from the Order."

She had immediately recognized the voice of Kingsley Shakelbolt, a gentle soul who worked for the Order. This recognition reassured the woman, slightly, but she remained quite tense as she could not see him. A seemingly reoccurring problem she had never had to deal with prior to this evening, making her feel very unsettled.

Having apparated in a crouched position with wand arm at the ready, the two men braced themselves for the possibility of incoming spells. As seasoned veterans, the two men quickly realized that the immediate area appeared deserted. Relaxing their tense muscles a bit they both stood, losing their crouched stance but not their state of alert. Quickly glancing around once more and seeing no muggles about, they cancelled their disillusionment charms, appearing to the immediate right of Mrs. Figg.

"Sorry to frighten you, but Remus and I felt it best to arrive unseen."

To the old woman's relief, the words had been accompanied with the appearance of a body. Her heart had been banging against her rib cage so loudly she was surprised that she had heard the whispered apology.

With wand still at the ready, Remus relaxed his stance a bit after he took in the sight of an unharmed Harry. Having not taken his eyes off his newly adopted godson, Remus noticed Harry's rigid frame and fixated stare, upward.

Nudging Kingsley, drawing his attention away from Mrs. Figg, Remus jerked his head towards Harry, indicating that something was up. Still ready to spring into action should the situation warrant a need, the two wizards turned their eyes in the direction that Harry appeared to be looking. That's when they both saw the ethereal being floating above the pavement, making eye contact with Harry.

As if choreographed, both wizards brought their wands up simultaneously, ready to shoot off the first spell that came to mind. Alarmed but not sensing any immediate danger, the wizards opted to monitor the being before reacting impulsively. Neither had any idea what they were looking at, other than the fact that it had a humanoid shape.

It continued to float in the same position, not making any threatening advances towards Harry.

Then, without warning, Harry began to glow. In an involuntary reaction, the two men took a step backwards, shielding their eyes from the growing brightness of the light that was emanating from Harry's body. Their eyes adjusted quickly, having not been blinded by an intense brightness, rather standing too close to a sudden source of light in a darkened area.

Critically looking at the phenomenon that was engulfing and emitting from Harry, the two wizards were momentarily struck dumb while they desperately tried to understand what was happening. The saying goes that seeing is believing but that did not mean that seeing provided explanations. Having no recourse for action, the two wizards elected to continue what they had been doing so brilliantly, standing dumbstruck.

Remus began mentally cataloguing what he was witnessing so that he could review the sequence of events later. He had noted that the initial glow surrounding Harry appeared to radiate from his very essence, radiating outward, abruptly halting about one meter from his body. For lack of a better description, Harry had turned into a human light bulb with a highly controlled area of radiance.

This phenomenon provided the visual perception that Harry was encased in a lighted orb of some sort, a bubble of light that extended to a specific distance from Harry's person, and no further. And even more striking to this bubble that roughly followed the contours of his body was that the outermost boundary of this shield appeared to be tangible. The outermost part of the bubble looked to have formed a shell of minute solid particles, or more precisely, a thin shell.

Remus had the strongest urge to reach out and tactically feel the external shell encasing his godson. It was a fear of causing harm to Harry that he did not reach out and touch the shield, rather adopted a watch and wait attitude.

Kingsley was not of the same mind, he reached out and poked the barrier with his wand. The resulting action was rather dramatic and immediate. Had the brick wall not stopped his flight backwards, Kingsley would have been thrown clear of the alleyway.

Having seen that physical contact was not in their best interests, Remus tried to attract Harry's attention by calling to him. The only acknowledgement that Harry had heard his pleas was a crook of his neck in his direction. Otherwise, Harry did not turn his head, did not take his eyes off the being hovering above him. His gaze was as transfixed on the being as it was on him.

Then, ever so slowly Harry raised his right hand, extending his palm towards the ethereal being while it incrementally floated closer to Harry, it's hand extended in the same fashion. Then, without any incantation uttered or wand in hand, Harry started to float towards the being. Not only did Harry not appear to be responsible for his sudden weightlessness, he also appeared to be unaware that he was.

When Harry's height was level to that of the being, his movement halted and he hovered in place. Words were not spoken nor did Harry lower his outstretched hand. Harry appeared to be waiting for the being to respond to his offering. And contrary to his Gryffindor personality, he seemed to be content enough to wait for the being to proceed at its pace.

Harry was unaware that he was smiling. All he knew was that he felt peaceful, complete and serene at that very moment and that he had no desire to rush things. To bask in the sensations of being lifted from all of his life's trials was a sensation that Harry had never experienced before. A feeling he was in no rush to relinquish.

In no sign of any rushed movement, the being smiled at Harry and began to close the distance between them, its hand still outstretched, mimicking Harry's.

With Kingsley still being tended to by Mrs. Figg, Remus continued to watch and absorb as much detail as was possible, knowing that he would be the one debriefing Dumbledore.

When Harry's glowing shield and the entity were centimeters apart from one another, palms lining up, Remus readied himself for the impending impact. Clenching his jaw and crouching a bit to take the bite off of any reactive force, like what Kingsley had experienced, Remus watched with as much dread as awe as the gap between the two decreased.

To Remus' astonishment, nothing happened when the being came into contact with Harry's shield. There were no sparks nor any type of physical resistance that Remus could see. The being's hand had penetrated Harry's shield with as much resistance as a heated knife slicing through a slab of butter.

And then, just as suddenly as it had all begun, the film of light surrounding Harry's body began to shrink. Remus also noticed that the glow emitting from Harry grew softer in intensity as his bubble-like shield continued to shrink. The last vestiges of any light was centered at Harry's chest cavity before it disappeared altogether, blanketing the area in darkness.

During this entire time Harry had not moved, nor seemed to notice what was transpiring around him. He just continued to stare at the being floating at eyelevel, several meters in front of him.

And then, with as much forewarning as had been provided when Harry's body initially began to glow, a light began to emanate from his chest, and only his chest. Initially, the light was nothing more than a soft glow, filtering through the fabric of Harry's over sized shirt. At a slow but steady rate, the glow grew in intensity, with some of the light escaping via the gaps between the buttons.

Wanting to be in a position to better see what was happening to his godson, Remus moved a few meters to his right, placing him at an angle from Harry with an unobstructed view. Kingsley silently mirrored his movements, leaving Mrs. Figg standing between the two.

Then, without warning, Harry's back arched as something began to emerge from his chest. The emerging substance was not comprised of solid particles, rather wispy tendrils of smoke. Adding to the already strange phenomenon was the fact that this smoky substance was not following any known laws of physics, it was not dispersing in the air, rising, falling or drifting away with the surrounding wind currents. It seemingly acted with purpose, not straying far from Harry's chest.

While it continued to grow in volume, areas of differing densities began to form. Eventually, three distinct swirling eddies within the smoke were easily identifiable. The coalescing, swirling eddies were visually distinct but were at the same time not truly separate from the larger bulbous smoky mass that was still accumulating.

As the smoky substance slowed it's rate of growth, Harry's posture became more erect. Harry made no move to wave his arms about to disperse the cloud attached to his chest, in fact, he didn't even acknowledged its existence. His attention was wholly focused on the being, hovering just out of his reach.

Slowly the mass of smoke began to move in a more uniform manner. The eddies and tides were mingling together, shaping, and swirling, taking on a form. It wasn't until Remus recognized a very familiar rack of antlers that he realized he was witnessing the emergence of Harry's patronus.

If anybody had asked, Remus would have told them that he could not have been more stunned than he was at that moment. For a wizard to be able to produce a patronus was a rarity, but for one to produce a corporeal patronus without an incantation was unheard of. In fact, Remus would have told anybody that it wasn't possible, but yet, he was bearing witness.

Kingsley had started to take a step forward to intervene but Remus motioned for him to stay put. The taller man looked at Remus, wide eyed, wanting an explanation for his actions, or rather inaction. Not wanting to take the time to even blink in case he missed something, Remus simply responded in a husky whisper, "Let's just watch for now," leaving the we'll talk afterwards unsaid.

It did not take much time for Harry's patronus to emerge, fully developed. Unlike when summoned via an incantation, the patronus remained passive, not striking out, acting as an offensive defender.

Harry's patronus approached the being in a slow, majestic gait, it's head held high and proud, halting just out of reach. In a display common in the wild, the stag began to turn it's head from side to side, showing off his impressive rack. Once he felt that he had effectively impressed his target, he then moved his head up and down in rapid sequence, followed by a few quick snorts.

In complete shock, Remus stumbled a couple of steps backwards. His entire body radiated his shock as his wand arm lowered, hanging almost limply, his hand barely retaining possession of his wand.

Remus had never heard of a patronus making any sort of sound. It was impossible. They were not real beings or animals. Unlike transfigured items that were solid, having mass, patroni were conjured feelings, magical apparitions that were comprised from a castor's positive emotions. They were not even tactically solid. So, how could a concentration of magical feelings make sounds?

While in his state of shock, Remus was able to continue watching the magical entities interact, however his brain was no longer processing or analyzing. Those few soft sounds had effectively removed him from being a possible active participant, ready to respond, to that of a member of an audience, visually cataloguing without interaction.

What he was witnessing was not possible but then, rules of fact rarely applied to Harry.

Prongs Jr. slowly began to approach the ethereal being. In harmonious response, the being began to slowly raise an arm, not stopping until it was fully extended. As the two met, nose to palm, Prongs whinnied and then snorted. The noises seemed to please the humanoid, as a smile radiated from it in reaction.

Having finally regained some of his faculties, Remus was once again stunned stupid. The fact that both apparitions were making noises and responding accordingly to said noises suggested that they were more likely extensions of the witch or wizard they hailed from. Remus further speculated that in order for a magical manifestation to possess an awareness, it would have to possess a portion of the castor's soul. In essence, they were extensions of the person's being and not just a concentration of magic. With so few able to cast a corporal patronus, Remus wondered how many were magically gifted enough to cast a projection of themselves within their patronus as Harry had done.

At this realization, Remus gracelessly plopped down onto the pavement in a heap, his legs having become jelly-like. Remus had always prided himself on being a scholar, and after having witnessed such an event and piecing together the significance, he was completely dumbfounded. If the conclusions he had just drawn were correct, then, a lot of magical theories widely believed were in fact, false.

While Remus sat in his puddle of muddle, mind whirling but not really thinking or connecting any more, the two beings continued their contact.

The tentative touches came to an abrupt end when the bipedal being suddenly withdrew his arm and doubled over, as if in pain. Without pause, Prongs lowered his head and nuzzled his nose in the nape of the being's neck. The gentle nuzzling lead to his nipping a shoulder until the being tilted his head up, just enough for Prongs to tenderly lick a tear as it trickled down a cheek.

The witnesses were alarmed that the being was suffering with two having taken a sympathetic step forward in response while the third was brought out of his stupor, clambering to his feet. Any further forward movement from the three ended when the crouched being began to moan and rock back and forth in obvious distress. Not knowing what assistance they could offer a magical apparition, they remained frozen in place and watched with saddened hearts.

Then, an anguished cry rented the air. The cry lasted mere seconds but it seemed to have lasted a lot longer for those present. The being was panting from pain but within moments, the breathing evened out, giving hope to the witnesses that the pain had receded.

And then, they saw them, beautiful wings had emerged from the being's back.


The newly appointed professors, Catori and Hehewuti had been out exploring the grounds, reacquainting themselves with the ambient magical signature that was uniquely Hogwarts. Having been around the castle for a few days, they had already attuned themselves with the feel of the magical signature of the castle and the grounds, but something felt -- different.

Something had felt slightly off when they had first begun their stroll, but not enough to alarm the two. The subtle difference was like a small itch that had been easy to initially ignore or not notice, but with time, its nagging persistence had grown, making it impossible to dismiss as nothing. And it was this itch, this persistent tingle in the ambient magical atmosphere that initiated a desire for exploration from the two.

In an attempt to better discern the cause of this electrified atmosphere, they paused, closed their eyes as one and raised their heads skyward. Then in synchronous movement, they raised their arms skyward, fingers fully splayed, while they opened their senses. They stood in silence for several minutes assessing the changes, trying to understand what was happening and the cause for the disturbance within the magical atmosphere.

They did not become alarmed when they were unable to discern the cause or source for the disturbance. The reason for their continued calm could be attributable to the feelings that they were able to associate within the chaos of the charged magical particles. They could feel what could be described as happiness, or more accurately, some form of euphoric anticipation.

This did not provide them with any answers, nor did the lack of such raise the hackles on the backs of their necks as they felt no ominous presence associated with the charged particles. And therefore they accepted the feelings at face value. Their consensus was that intervention was not warranted.

During the time that Catori and Hehewuti were outside, basking in the electrical charge of the atmosphere, one Albus Dumbledore could be found pacing in his office. Being a powerful wizard, Albus Dumbledore had some awareness of all things magical. And it was this awareness that provided the old wizard with the feeling that something was amiss.

Unlike the two outside, Albus Dumbledore was not aware that differing properties of magical particles existed. And it was this ignorance that led to his unease as he had no control or knowledge what was happening. In large part, Dumbledore's concern was heightened because of the current climate within the wizarding world. With the return of Voldemort, a new source could sway the odds towards those seeking to destroy witches and wizards deemed inferior to the anointed few.

Taking a break from his pacing, he was looking out his window when he noticed that Hehewuti and Catori were outside -- and sparks were flashing around them. Clasping his hands behind his back, Dumbledore continued to watch the two. They didn't appear to be concerned by the small magical display, so Albus relaxed a bit, and decided to question them about it the next time he saw them.

The pleasant distraction was enough to calm the old wizard. Feeling a bit uplifted, he returned to his desk and the ever present stack of paperwork waiting for his perusal.


The addition of the wings on the back of the being had the three observers thinking that they were witnessing some sort of divine intervention. Throughout history such winged creatures had been depicted as angels, yet there had nary been a reported sighting for the last century. The lack of reported sightings coupled with time led to stories of such sightings as myths, folk lore. A common theme found in these folk tales was that at times of great need, angels would descend upon the earth and lead the righteous back to salvation.

During this time of awe inspired worship by the three, ten dementors had shown up. The three humans had yet to realize that they had company. Even the chill in the air had gone by unnoticed until they heard the dementors chattering. The not so unpleasant screeching of the dementors had broken the spell of awe they had all been caught up in.

Being an auror, Shaklebolt had been sent on several missions in the previous weeks to disperse dementors that had been found wandering the countryside. Even with his increased exposure to the creatures, he had never known of them to articulate sound.

Going with his gut instinct, he motioned to Remus to hold off casting a patronus. Ordinarily this would be considered a foolish move, to allow yourself to be surrounded by dementors without taking evasive action, but his instincts were telling him to wait it out. He just knew that this was not the time to act rashly.

An opportunity had presented itself to them to gather more intelligence on their congregating practices. And he wanted to see what they were up to and if they dispersed too early, they might never find out. Also, with two wizards present who were capable of casting a patronus, there was no need to act rashly, letting fear control their actions. In theory, these points were all good and well, however, he hoped to Merlin that he would not regret his decision as his confidence level waivered as he saw that their numbers continued to increase.

As additional dementors arrived, they quietly joined their comrades in the circle forming around the magical apparitions. Atypical to their normal behavioral patterns, they did not rush the beings in search of their sweet nectar, an untainted soul. Instead, they kept a respectful distance, as if they were waiting for something.

The dementors had been ignoring the humans, yet, this did not negate any effect they had on them. The color was draining fast from Arabella's face, yet she refused to move, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Only stern determination kept the woman in an upright position.

Considering the number of dementors surrounding them, Kingsley was surprised that he barely felt their presence. Ordinarily he would have been on the ground clutching for his Ministry issued packet of chocolate with the number of dementors surrounding him, but here he was, standing and still in control of his mental faculties.

Chancing a glance at his companions, he saw that Remus looked unaffected as well, but Arabella did not appear to be as lucky. Pulling out a couple packets of chocolate from his breast pocket, he unwrapped the corner of one and passed it to her. Via silent communication, he was able to convey to her to eat some chocolate and to pass the other packet over to Remus. Even though he and Remus seemed to be fine, it would be foolish to not take some precautionary measures.

The therapeutic effects of the chocolate was instantaneous, bringing color back to her pallid face and a stop to the accumulation of cold sweat that had begun beading on her brow. Having recovered to a more tolerable level, the woman resumed her vigil, hoping that the two men would protect her from the creatures, should the need arise.

While the three humans were unobtrusively eating their chocolates, the dementors continued to ignore their presence. There was a fourth human present, Harry Potter, yet the dementors ignored his physical body as well. It appeared that the dementors were in as much awe of the magical manifestations as the humans were. Their focus never wavered. Their presence seemingly singular in purpose.

The mesmerizing trance was broken for all those gathered when Harry's patronus began to close the gap between itself and the angelic being. This movement brought an end to the lull in activity enjoyed by the two wizards. With the trance having been broken, the two wizards were once again mentally bracing themselves for swift and decisive action.

With minimal detectable movements, the two wizards wand wrists flexed, readying themselves to dispatch a burst of spells while they procured Arabella and Harry for side-along apparation, should the circumstances warrant. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, the two wizards had elected to not rush any encounter with the dementors but they still closed the gap between themselves and Harry's physical body and Arabella.

While Remus and Kingsley were bettering their positions, the dementors had begun to reorient themselves as well. Shifting their positions so that they were more equal distant from one another in their ill-formed circle, then they began to sway in synchronous movement. Their movements were much more subtle than the choreographed movements of spectators in a sporting event, however, they were moving in what could only be described as a choreographed swaying pattern.

Remus could only think that the dementors were reacting to something that he, humans could not detect. It was disconcerting to the young man that the dementors had a higher level of awareness to his adopted god son's emotional condition than he had. Bringing his attention back to ground level, Remus took a long look at the boy. The messy hair, the too big clothes, and the glasses were as much his trademark look as those sparkling green orbs.

All looked to be in order, other than the blank look on his face. Harry did not look like he was all there and this was a worry to the man. It was the scholar in Remus that kept his feet firmly planted rather than whisking Harry to safety. Remus was more concerned about the repercussions in distancing Harry from his patronus than he was with the dementors surrounding them.

Remus had surmised that Harry's magical projection, his patronus, had taken more of Harry's essence than usual, hence the blank look and lack of physical reaction by his body to his current surroundings.

Dealing with so many unknowns, Remus was concerned that separating the two would adversely affect Harry and this was a risk he wanted to avoid, if at all possible.

Had Harry been any other person, Remus would be more alarmed however, the mundane, the norm was not one of Harry's quirks. The boy had always been plagued by the unusual. One could even say it was a gift, or a curse, depending on who was retelling one of his latest adventures.

As puzzling as the dementor's behavior was, they were at least a more known commodity than the phenomena that was physically and magically affecting Harry.

Remus' eyes were brought back upwards when they caught more movement. Harry's patronus had begun to nuzzle his head in the being's chest while two arms circled the stag's neck. This reverent touching continued uninterrupted for several minutes.

Then the being leaned over and whispered softly into Prongs' ear before pulling away. Before the two had put any distance between themselves, the angel had planted a chaste kiss on the stag's nose. This seemingly innocent contact set in motion a chain reaction that would ultimately alter the lives of several individuals.

As the two separated from one another, the stag began melting. Neither apparition appeared to be surprised nor disturbed by this action. Upon closer inspection Remus realized that the stag was not melting, that the magic was not dissolving, rather it was morphing, shifting into a smaller version. The entire process took less than a minute, and the end result was staggering.

In place of a full grown stag, stood a foal, a young unicorn. Not only was it unusual for a person to have a magical patronus, one well known exception was Albus Dumbledore who's patronus was a phoenix, but this unicorn was further unique in that it possessed color. The colors were not shocking in of themselves, just the fact that there were any was what was shocking.

Once Remus' brain had engaged, he started to ponder all that he thought he knew. Foremost in his thoughts were why patroni were colorless. Spells could be traced and identified by color as well as magical signatures. To name just a few, stunners as well as disarming spells were various hues of red, while the Avada Kedavra was a brilliant jet of green light. These tell tale facts suggested that channeled magic had a designated physical as well as visual signature, so, why did patroni not follow the pattern?

Any and all patroni that Remus had ever seen prior to this evening had been monochromatic in appearance. Their make up was known to be from highly charged positive emotions, yet, color from an individual's essence had never been observed in one. And if one thought about this, it was odd that a patronus was void of color as a person's essence, their emotionally charged particles should expose their underlying personality, their aura, regardless how much positive energy they funneled into the spell.

Adding to the mystery, Remus further contemplated that Harry's unicorn was not uniform in color, like a spell is. No, his unicorn had what could be more closely termed as markings. The mane and tail were pitch black in color which sharply contrasted to the smoky white of its body. And when it turned its head and looked at Remus, it had a pair of green eyes that he had only seen two other individuals ever possess. And then there was the horn, the unique protrusion that jutted out of a unicorn's forehead, it was a liquid quicksilver and not the expected bone-like substance.

The more Remus thought about it, he was no longer sure if he was looking at a patronus, or something magically altered into something altogether new. A hybrid of some type. Had the unicorn had a facsimile of a lightning bold scar on its head and markings around his eyes where Harry's glasses adorned his face, Remus might have thought Harry had followed in his father's footsteps and become an unregistered animagus.

But then again, animagi were thought to never replicate a magical being. But this was Harry, and accepted facts and theories all too often flew out the window when he was involved. Now was not the time to reason why but to watch and learn all that he could. Reining in his wild theories, Remus went back to quietly observing and marveling all that was Harry.

In short order it became apparent that the young unicorn was not as surefooted as his predecessor had been. He walked about a bit unsteady, reminiscent of how Mundungus got around after his shift ended. His drunken-like antics brought about smiles on the faces of the three human watchers. If it was possible, the smiles would have grown wider when the young foal began prancing about like some ponce strutting his stuff after he gained some confidence and balance on all fours.

After his little exhibition, the unicorn stopped a nose whisker away from the angelic being. Reaching out slowly, the winged angel sought to touch the unicorn's horn. At the slightest contact, a soft glow appeared at the tip of the horn. The glow was not indiscriminate, it was concentrated, forming a small globe.

The light radiating from the sphere was softly pulsating, a methodical rhythm not too dissimilar to that of a soothing heart beat. The orb continued to grow and pulsate until it reached the size of a quaffle. Once it had reached its maximum size, the light shifted from a soft golden color to an ocean blue.

So mesmerized by the globe, Remus had not noticed that the angelic being had moved a few paces from the unicorn. Their separation only became apparent to Remus when the globe started to float away from the unicorn towards the open hands of the angel.

Reverently holding the globe between two palms, the being then raised its arms high over head. This is when the chattering of the dementors came to an abrupt halt. Remus would later wonder if they were chanting and not simply chattering as they too seemed to be as absorbed in what was happening as he was.

Remus didn't spend much time in his pondering of the dementors chanting as the silence was a precursor to an abrupt change in the globe, and this change kept his attention focused on the globe. No longer was it giving off a soft glow, points of light began to emit from it. The points of light were aimed towards the chest of each dementor. The foul guards of azkaban did not falter at the oncoming light. In fact, they seemed to welcome its presence, jutting their chest cavities towards it for contact.

As the light came into contact with each dementor, their ragged capes fell to the ground, dementor-less. In place of each dementor was a smaller globe of light that had distinct eddies of a smokie-like substance within it's perimeter. The eddies seemed to swirl and coalesce further into two main colors, one being dark while the other was nearly white in color.

The globes representing each dementor were various sizes, containing both light and dark smoke. Intriguing to Remus he noticed that the two colors did not intermingle with one another, providing a uniform color, rather they appeared to have segregated themselves from one another. The longer he looked, Remus thought that two colors of smoke gave the appearance that they could almost be classified as entities shunning one another.

And furthering his theories, if this were the case, then, like Harry's patronus and the ethereal being, these smoky substances might possess an emotional imprint from their originator, the kissed souls.

Lost in thought, Remus was not sure how much he missed when the sound of Kingsley's throat clearing brought him back to reality. When the fact that his attention was being requested had registered in his brain, Remus sprang back to the present with his reflexes on high alert. The notion that they might be in danger due to his reckless abandonment of his senses to contemplate magical theories was quite a jolt to his system. He sternly reminded himself that being inquisitive was fine but not when in potential mortal peril, and being surrounded by a gaggle of dementors definitely qualified as being in mortal peril.

As soon as Remus had brought his attention back to the present, he had scanned the area and saw that all those present were still hail, healthy and hearty. Having wasted no time, he then looked overhead, to observe what had transpired during his mental absence. The control he had over his oxygen intake ended when he saw what it was that Kingsley had brought about his attention for.

The globes left behind by each dementor had started to pop, similar to that of a soap bubble. Emerging from the bubble were two distinct spheres, one containing the white smoke and the other containing the dark. The white spheres appeared to be consistent in composition while the darker globes provided a variety of hues and eddies, that ranged from a light gray to nearly black.

In short order, the white spheres too began to pop, the smoky contents floating skyward. While Remus was watching the tendrils of the white substance float heavenward, he suddenly realized that the darker globes were not following suit. Scanning the area, he saw a grouping of the darker globes. Watching them more closely, it appeared to Remus that they were coalescing, gathering in a tightened area as if they were being gathered by an invisible net.

Darting his eyes to the side, he noticed that the magical apparitions did not appear to show any concern that the dark globes were stationing themselves about twenty meters from them. As the orbs continued to gather, Remus noticed that a distinct shape was forming. To further produce the desired shape, the spheres were adjusting in size and shape, some becoming oblong, to form an isosceles triangle. The smallest and lightest colored globes positioned themselves at the peak while the larger, darker foreboding looking globes lay the foundation for the base.

Reaching a hand to its back, the angelic being brought forth a bow and arrow. Placing a shaft in position, the being then took aim and shot the arrow directly towards the dark triangular spheres. When the arrow was nearing it's intended target, it split itself into seven smaller versions of itself, each driving forth, impacting seven spheres. This action was repeated two more times.

Upon impact, the tiny arrows of pure magic did not burst the spheres, scattering their contents, rather they gained access, imbedding themselves into the dark clouds. As each globe was penetrated, a classic battle of light versus dark began within the encasings. Unaware of the significance to what they were witnessing, the three observers on the ground watched the battles by way of violent flashes of light taking place within each sphere.

It had not dawned on the three that the conflict within the orbs was for the possession, purification of stolen, captured souls.

While the Ministry freely used dementors as tools to punish criminals, they were also unknowingly creating greater monsters of destruction. Daily exposure to dementors raped the mind of positive influences, memories, eventually making it nearly impossible for an individual to have any positive thoughts at all. Prolonged exposure to this type of mental onslaught provided the individual a one way ticket to the incurably insane wing of the prison. And this, in the minds of Ministry officials was justifiable punishment, with the added advantage that the prisoners became more malleable, more manageable for the human guards, requiring less intervention, having lost their minds they made no demands.

However, there is generally a Catch22 to anything that seems to be -- too perfect. The effects of dementors on the human psyche was well known by the wizarding populace, however, what was not known was that this effect was not singular nor was it exclusive. Along with the loss of their minds, their souls became more tainted. With their minds lost in the abyss, their souls became forever frozen with the last remaining images they had relived, hardening them for eternity. Souls that might have been salvaged at one point were now, shattered beyond repair.

After a human was subjected to 'the kiss', their physical body deteriorated, closely followed by death. For these rare judicial mandates, the Ministry took full advantage of the positive publicity for removing a dangerous criminal from possible further activity. The criminal's death brought about the end of Ministry involvement, leaving grieving families to their own coping mechanisms.

Once the death certificate was issued, the individual no longer existed, therefore he could pose no danger, according to the Ministry. If this were true, it would be nice, however, nice and tidy endings when dementors were involved was far from the truth. For the real truth was that dementors kept each soul they reaped in stasis, living and feeding off their magical energies.

And it was the quality as well as the quantity of souls the dementor possessed that gave it strength as well as it's animalistic drive. The greater number of souls consumed gave rise to a stronger, more powerful dementor. The greater number of irreparably damaged souls within it's confines gave rise to a more aggressive dementor. Combining the two could be potentially lethal.

Had officials known about this correlation, it is doubtful they would have been so eager to sentence individuals to such a fate.

The true significance of the battles raging within the spheres might have been remiss to the witnesses, however they were aware that dominance was being fought by the continued flashes of light as some globes were slowly growing lighter in color.

While the soul lacked a brain, making it incapable of cognitive reasoning, it did possess an imprint of emotions left over from its host. Not all emotions were present, only those of the most basic level, such as fear and anger while emotions based on higher levels of awareness such as love, were absent. Self preservation was also a key component of awareness that had been retained by the soul.

As should be expected, souls came in as many varieties as hosts. A person's life experiences produced the type and intensity of emotions that were imprinted on the soul, some more indelible than others. At the far end of the spectrum, but not uncommon to be housed in a dementor's bowels, were souls of criminals. The more heinous an individual's actions in life, the more aggressive and assertive the soul became. This aggression coupled with the basic need for independence and self preservation, essentially guaranteed that they would be incompatible with others, especially in tight quarters.

As archeology has provided an abundance of examples, a pecking order is established when humans live in close quarters. The hierarchy in tribal communes did not solely revolve around the hunters, as the gatherers were viewed as an important component in their social structure, lesser in stature but nonetheless, important.

However, within the confines of a dementor, the hierarchy was wholly dependent on strength as there was no need for human comfort or nurturing. The bodiless souls sought dominance over one another, hence the more brutal forces were the ones occupying the top rung.

Such was the life of the dementor. Warring factions not even of their own making taking place within themselves for eons.

Had a being of the Earth been given this task, to house a host of angry spirits at constant odds, they would not have survived, most likely taking their life as a means to end their misery and personal torment. In spite of this internal struggle, dementors survived and functioned because they were not beings in the normal sense of the word. They were vessels who's purpose was to provide housing for malevolent energies until the transference of the magical energy could be recycled back into the universe, completing the cycle of life.

Dementors interrupted the transference of negative magical energy from recycling back into the living. They were a safeguard, a stopgap created to slow the influx of negative energies, to maintain a universal balance of power.

Dementors were never meant to be a fine mesh filter, simply an effective crude sieve, skimming the top. Dementors were merely a safeguard, an overflow valve and nothing more as a world inhabited by humans would never reach utopia regardless the number of deterrents and safeguards put in place. There would always be humans that took from the weak. While cruel at times, this disparity of roles and abilities was a positive for the human race as it forced individuals to better themselves, to reach beyond.

Dementors were a storage vessel, given the task to hold their cargo for the destined one. The one who shouldered the duty, and had both the ability and responsibility to return these negative energies back into the magical pool of life.

The magical essence that they had been tasting in the air had been growing in strength, sending them all around Western Europe searching for the source. They had felt the lure for months, their anticipation and desperate desire to locate the one calling had partially unmasked them to the wizarding world. To finally be freed of their burdens as well as to be welcomed and not shunned or feared by the one overrode their usual stoic behavior. Unfortunately, every time they sensed the magic, Ministry employees would show up and scatter them by projecting patroni at them, contaminating the surrounding area for further study.

After all the searching, they had finally found the returner. Even though not yet at full strength, the ambience of its magical aura was intoxicating and soothing to those starved, those deprived of the simple emotion known as love. The saying that love soothes the savage beast was no exaggeration as the dementors swayed and swooned, bathed in the ambience of such purity.

To be able to bask in the presence of one so pure instead of the stench of the foul had been nothing more than a dream to them for so very long. A fantasy that was about to turn into reality. The time had arrived for their destinies to collide.

Nearly two dozen dementors were set to challenge the magical fortitude of the young, untrained returner. They posed no real threat to the returner, yet as the first wave, they were to test him for endurance as well as magical purity. Once the returner passes the first challenge, then it would be their brethren's duty to prepare and mold the youngling for his role.

Having released their compressed spheres of tainted souls, the young apprentice pulled forth his purification arrows and set about to embrace his destiny. As tainted as many of the souls were, their compliance and acceptance would not come without absolute defeat on their part. The battle for preservation versus purification would be fierce and would drain the youngling of his barely awakened powers. And after the battle, the youngling would need to once again pull from within its essence to release the protectors of balance from their Earthly bonds.

One by one, the gaseous substance in each of the globes began to lighten, eventually shedding all of their darkness, turning white. As each globe reached this critical stage of purification, the globe provided no further resistance, and then it simply popped. The contents that were released separated into several small tendrils and began their skyward ascent.

As the last globe popped, expelling its contents, Remus' peripheral vision caught some movement, bringing his attention back to the two magical apparitions. The two mystical beings had begun to close the gap between one another, not stopping until the being's hands were cupped around the horn unique to unicorns.

With hands gently grasping the horn's circumference, the being then leaned forward and blew across its tip. The stream of cold breath exhaled from the angelic being changed in appearance as it grazed the tip of the horn. Morphing from that of a frosty breath common to a cold January morning to tiny crystalline particles, golden in color.

The stream of golden sparkles began gathering around a small mass of purple glitter, the actual remains of the dementors. The golden glitter began to circle the purple which in turn began to swirl in an elliptical pattern. The two colors joined one another in their dance, the layering effect gave the appearance of a colorful cinnamon bun. When all the particles were in play, a bell could be heard softly tolling in the background.

As the last chime sounded, the particles began unraveling, and began a sinuous ascent into the sky, with the exception of a teaspoon grouping of the purple glitter. Unnoticed by the human observers, the small amount of purple particles turned in a north-easterly direction and headed off on its own.

Deciding that their mission had been successfully completed, the two magical apparitions looked at one another and began to fade, until they too were no longer visible.


AN: Writing is aneffortlessskill to many thathas always eluded me, hence the long wait from my last update. Unfortunately the length of time between my submittals will not dramatically increase anytime soon as I have recently scrapped a lot of partially written sections as I now feel that they do not add substance to the story, just fillers. I apologize to those of you who have expressed a keen interest in this story to continue at a faster pace but I honestly struggle to produce something worthy of posting and don't want to lower the quality that I have been able to painstakenly achieve. Here's hoping that my skill will some dayimprove, allowing me to produceadditional chaptersat a faster pace. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy this chapter.