TEN
The next day Emily and Rosier had to pretend to find the body of Fabian Corven and write a report on how he had been killed by a group of muggle vigilantes who had killed him after discovering he had likely abused children in the local community. They set out the videos, the wounds inflicted by muggle weapons and the police investigation. Also they showed these were common muggle practices as pedophiles were particularly hated in muggle communities.
It felt like playing a role in play to Emily, which was fine by her as it meant she didn't have to feel real emotions. Neither she nor Rosier even entered the house knowing what they would find there and merely stood down the street for an hour, made a phone call to the police reporting a possible murder before leaving.
Both Emily and Rosier knew no one would look into the murder, not unless anything major happened. Not even Travers accusations would cause that, he'd already got what he wanted from Corven and would want as little enquiry as possible; Emily expected Travers would have killed Corven soon enough anyway, he wanted Corven talking as little as possible.
Emily headed back to her Mum's place. She, her mum and sister snuggled up in warm blankets and watched TV till her Mum dozed off and headed off to bed. When they were alone her sister asked her want she was working on and she told Susan simple 'something not good'. Susan knew her well enough to not probe and instead snuggled up closer until they fell asleep.
The next day Emily arrived in the office to find a kerfuffle around Albert's desk. She huddled over to the edge of the crowd and asked Perkin's what was going on. On hearing her voice Albert pulled her in to the centre to get a good look at what they were all trying to see. In front of her was the Daily Prophet with a picture of a derelict house taking up most of the page with Dementors hovering eerily across the page.
'This is your tip off Emily', Albert said excitedly, 'Bloody got the freight of my life when I got there. Went to that estate you told me about and saw several Dementors hovering about the place if that was bad enough. I saw one drifting away from up high on one of those balconies; followed it to this old house and when I got there must have been a hundred Dementors. Well I got the hell out of there before they swallowed me whole. Came back got half the bloody Magical Law department. Anyway some reporter was hanging around and obviously seeing what was going on came along. Look here I am "Distinguished Auror Albert Hufflebee". Anyway took almost the whole day to get rid of them. Said it was the largest infestation they've seen since the dark days. All because you old girl.' He beamed.
Emily patted him on the back said it was no problem, although she expected half of any rewards he got she joked.
She saw Rosier sitting at his desk alone stiff and haughty.
'What's wrong sourpuss? Haven't you seen the paper'
'I have' he said picking up the prophet he had in front of him, 'did you?'
'Of course'
'Maybe you want to look again' and handed the paper to Emily.
Emily took it somewhat cautiously not understanding what Rosier was getting at. She looked at the picture again and the sight of Dementors floating across the page turned her stomach. She looked up and Rosier who looked expectantly back at her like she was missing something so she looked back. She scanned the page trying to find something specific. After a minute she put the paper down obviously missing something obvious and then she saw it. That house.
'The house, Rosier…'
'…it's the same house'
It was the house from the memory taken from Tuppence Milton.
This was the same place, the walls had turned derelict with mould and the roof had crumbled in some places but it was definitely the same place. Rosier had been right. A chill of despair still lingered in the house like the Dementors powers had seeped into the woodwork. She felt still the lingering sorrow the Dementors twisted aura had on her. She felt her face tort to misery and her walk slow in heaviness.
"Do you feel that, Rosier?" She asked just to get some companionship in her darks. He replied in the affirmative, tassiter as ever. Well it was better than nothing. She could see it was affecting him, as it was she.
"What happened here?" he asked "to make it feel, so… so dark and evil"
"Evil things" she replied, "I suppose. They say Dementors were born through evil on the island of Azkaban. You still feel it in the rocks, it feels worse here like the house is the home of a Dementor"
"I have heard that, yet they never specify what evil. Do you suppose anyone knows?"
"Why? Would you want to know such an evil if it was available"
"Maybe. There is sorrow in the death of any thing, even ideas"
"Evil creates evil people"
"Evil people create evil" he replied mildly, "however you never know what you lose when you lose it. The greatest good can come from even the greatest evil"
"You should have been a Ravenclaw, you have the cold mind of one"
"I almost was but really I have the mind of a Slytherin"
"So evil then"
He gave her an evil smirk, before it drained replaced with the mood of despair.
Before she lost herself in misery she told Rosier to check up stairs first. He gave her a look like he knew where they would investigate last. They both knew.
There were four rooms downstairs. The house opened into a grand living room, which opened in a dinning room, framed by dark oaken beams. The stairs leading upstairs were on the right. Just to the left was the door leading to the kitchen and beyond that another room, locked. Emily walked slowly around the living room opening the draws on the tabletop desk; she found inkpots and quills along with a few blank parchments. She counted 8 winged backs chairs, 8 people she reasoned. In a draw she found a knocked over inkpot where the ink had seeped into the wood. Had the people needed to leave in a hurry? The house looked unlived in but not untidy. She ran her finger over the matted dust on the furniture to check how thick it was; it hadn't been cleaned in years, maybe decades.
There was a bookshelf in the corner scattered with a few books toppling over, maybe about 10 on a case that could hold a hundred. She ran her hand along the books reading the titles:
MEDIEVIL MAGIC LORE IN HIGHLANDS
THE RISE AND FALL OF ANASKAS
RUINS OF THE ANCIENTS
MAGIC LOST
THE SEED OF MAGIC
THE MYTHICAL TRIBE OF ICE WIZARDS
COURTING MAGIC
THE HISTORY OF GOBLINS
THE DYNASTY OF RZEKEUL
MAGICAL WOOD LORE
FANTASTIC BEASTS AND WHERE TO FIND THEM
Emily picked up a book and flipped through the pages checking for any notes in the margin, she found none. She made a mental note to bag the literature and read them later. She had never read any of these works but they seemed largely historical based.
She wondered into the kitchen and traced the shelves with her eyes. She analysed the differences between the items on the shelves and the memory. The skeletor doll wasn't there, as she expected it not to be, but neither were other items. This wasn't the same house. The layout was the same but the house was different. It made sense. There are standard house layouts given to squibs to help them integrate into the muggle world and if the same witch or wizard created both houses then it would make sense the end product was the same; Magical folk often got complacent with their magic and, she found, there was often a correlation with the person and the magic they created. Also the magic protecting it told it was probably a magical creation.
'There is another house', She reasoned to herself, 'but where?'
She allowed herself briefly to glance at the floor before moving into the Kitchen. Bare. Clean. Large. Spacious. Traditional. Solid. The thick butchers block that ran the course of the counter didn't have a knife cut on it, almost like new. She opened the cupboards and found them bare except for cobwebs, which even the spiders had abandoned.
Nothing. A dead home. Did anyone live here?
She turned instead to the locked door. The key was in the lock ready to be turned, she began to reach out when her teaching kicked in and she pulled back. She instead went through the routine and performed a number of revealing charms. She found a burning charm, pretty nasty but not lethal. She counter charmed and turned it in on itself. The key burned bright and melted in the lock.
Why had she been so stupid to almost perform a rookie mistake, this was basic stuff on the Auror test. Was the dull mood creeping around the rooms affecting her awareness? She felt like lead weight, slow moving. Alohomora. The door swung open. Darkness shone out. Through the door way Emily stepped. She lit up her wand and revealed a printing press long stopped printing. The light followed the black metal of the printing press to the end. She found a printed stack of pamphlets had toppled over. She trailed the stack and found them fallen on the floor. She crouched down and picked one up. She shone her wand on the pamphlet and words "Mudblood" and "thieving" shone back at her. She stepped out into the light to read the headline. Rosier voice called down the stairs and she heard his footsteps. He called again as he entered the kitchen and stopped as he saw her. She put the pamphlet in her top pocket.
"Come here", she beckoned with her hand, "I have something to show you"
He came over and looked at the printing press through the light Emily shone on it. Rosier took a pamphlet from the stack, knocking a few more to the floor. He looked at the picture on the front of a sleeping girl with a wand next to her and a boy standing over her with his shadow looming over her like a claw. Over it stood the title "THIEVEING MUDBLOOD". He glanced up at Emily searchingly.
"Do you understand this?" she asked.
"It's an old myth", he intoned disinterestedly, "that muggles steal their magic from magical born children"
He gave a shrug as if to say what you gonna do about it.
'Is this Pixthur's theory?'
'In a way', Rosier replied.
She decided to leave it, she knew the stories about the muggle born trials, and inquired about what he learned up stairs.
"There was nothing of note", he reported, "the rooms were clean, although not literally. There were 4 rooms, 3 adult 1 child. The most detail of import was the 2 childbeds in the fourth room. There was no artefacts in them, however both beds looked used. I removed the sheets and found stains on each. One spread was blue, the other pink. Can I posit an idea?"
"Posit away, young sir"
"The tradition of coupling and unity, 1 male, 1 female is a long tradition in the magical word. You see it in the prefects and the head boy and girl. My hypothesis is the coupling tradition happened here. They would take one boy and one girl at a time."
"Good idea, I see your observation skills have been honed well. Let us see", she said trying to smile but failing, "if you can guess where we go next"
"Downstairs" he said darkly
"Let us see what's behind door number three"
They walked over to the kitchen and looked down at the floor as a man at the gallows would at the trap door below him.
"Do you suppose there are Murlocks down there" she joked
"I've never heard of those magical creatures", he replied deathly serious, "Are they dangerous?"
"Never mind"
She looked at the floor and could see no visible sign of a cellar door. She hadn't expected to. She thought back to the placement in the pensieve memory. The black hole they met there came to the fore of her mind. She was sure that wasn't what they would find. The memory seemed to drain her of her energy and made it hard to think as vague muted noise started screaming in her head as a radio going in and out of frequency. She pushed the table back against the wall with her wand, almost angrily. Rosier looked taken aback and took a step back as well. She used her wand to trace the concealing spell and reveal the cellar door. She felt an adrenaline pulsing through her that she seemed to have no control over. Why was she so eager to get into this secret room? She had been longing to crack the mystery. However this wave of boundless beating pulsing energy coursed through her. She pulled the door open and saw what she saw before the abyss took her.
She woke lying in the street with Rosier holding her.
"What happened? She asked.
"You passed out" he replied affirmatively, "There was a Dementor in that basement. I should have known by the feeling. It was stupid of us not to be aware"
"It was stupid of me, you mean. Don't worry your right. I was stupid. I don't know what came over me."
"Tell me you didn't destroy it" Emily said suddenly
"No I just pushed it back and locked it back in before getting you out. You looked like you were about to die"
"I need to go back"
"No", he said, "You're too weak. You need some chocolate"
"Fine. Lets find a café and get some food"
She got up, almost falling over. Rosier was right she didn't realise how weak she felt. They walked for a few streets before Rosier took her arm, which she was grateful for. When they came across the first Muggle, a doddering lady, Emily asked her where the nearest café was. She informed them in was just round the next corner and Emily thanked her.
When they got there Emily ordered two hot chocolates, with Rosier tentatively standing back. After ordering she noticed how hungry she was and ordered two full-English breakfasts. She paid with the small amount of muggle money she always kept on her person.
They took a seat by the window, furthest away from the counter.
"Is this your first muggle restaurant, Rosier", She teased, "I'm positively smashing your pure blood world"
After a moment of silence and the concerted look on Rosier's face Emily felt a bit guilty, she was taking her moment of weakness out on Rosier
"I'm sorry Rosier," She started, "I shouldn't be teasing you, I should be thanking you."
"It's not that"
"Is it the muggle world?"
"Not really, it is a bit weird. You're so comfortable here yet it's so strange. You just fit in everywhere and I don't. Really I was thinking about what we found in the basement"
At that point the cashier/waiter brought over their dishes and drinks. Emily took a gulp of the hot chocolate and felt the warmth fall back into her. She nodded at Rosier to follow suit and saw his expression change. She began to tuck into her breakfast, Rosier followed suit.
When they finished she ordered another round of drinks and chocolate cake.
"I know what you mean", She said resuscitating the dead conversation, "It was…"
"Do you suppose it got trapped down there and the others missed it?"
"No, I don't think"
"Why were you so eager to get down there, you know you didn't even take your wand. You left it resting on the floor"
"Did you see that Dementor?" Emily changed the conversation
"Yes, it was eerie, wrong somehow. More of an abomination"
"I didn't have a real cloak, did it? I've never seen a Dementor without a cloak, have you? I saw it cowering in the corner almost. How does evil learn to cower? It had taken the tablecloth and tried to cover itself. Yet it was too small and you could see its skin and the hole where it mouth should be. Wrapped in the floral cloth it almost looked absurd. It was like it felt shame, it was trying to cover its self because it felt shame"
"Dementors don't feel" he replied with alacrity.
"Have you ever wondered where Dementors get their cloaks from? Are they born with them? Do they create them? Find them? Does anyone know? You know how Dementors are created?"
"No one does"
"I meant, did you know a Dementor can turn one of its victims into a Dementor if it stays with them long enough. That is if the person doesn't die. What happens to that person, do they change with the clock or are they just the creature underneath and shame makes them cover up until the cloak and creature are one being. Who knows what happens when a Dementor is born?"
"Do you really believe that Dementor was created in that room?" he asked attentively, "Did you know what you were going to find in there?"
"No, but I knew there was something. We need to go back"
She pulled out a pen and paper from her satchel and wrote on it a moment before sending it away with a crack.
"What have you requested" Rosier asked.
"I've asked for four offices to be send to the house. I want that Dementor transported to the Ministry. I have some questions for it later"
"Come on, slow coach,' Emily said standing up, 'we have to get back or they'll be waiting for us"
Rosier got up and followed her out.
When they returned they were indeed waiting for them, looking particularly annoyed.
"We were told this was an emergency, I know you have this special assignment but this is taking the piss"
"Keep your knickers on Rex, this case is worth your wait. I need all four of you to round up a Dementor and transport it back to the Ministry"
"Why?" Rex asked almost annoyed
"If I told you I'd have to kill you"
"If I get in trouble for this"
"This will be the most interesting job you've done in months, what else were you gonna do tackle another pixie outbreak. You'll be talking about this for ages"
"Why, what's so special about this Dementor"
"This Dementor has no cloths" she piquantly as they began following her through the gate.
She saw them take a step back and start chattering
"I'm going to get to see what's under a Dementors hood, wow", a young officer said with awe.
"It had better not get fresh and try to kiss me" a female joked, with a note of fear underlying her brisk smile.
The energy among the party increased as they entered the house, each magical law officer looked tense with their wand up. Emily was loving it, playing it blasé, she almost felt like jumping out from behind a wall but now wasn't the time unless she wanted a hex of some sort. Rosier was comporting himself with dignity as always. She gave him a knowing smile where he stood at the back; she swore he almost returned it.
She stopped them at the trap door and informed them it was down there. At this point Rex took on his role as leader and organized them into an effective group.
Emily had also arranged for the fireplace to be temporarily made part of the floo network. She threw a handful of floo powder into the fire and informed them they needed to make a ring around the Dementor and transport it into the fireplace and back it to the Ministry where it would be detained.
They each produced a shield Patronus before Emily opened the trapdoor. They were surprisingly effective at trapping the Dementor within the Patronus cage. She looked through the white light as it passed her by and thought 'we'll meet again'.
Once they had gone Rosier joined her by her side.
"What do you think we'll find in that room that's so important?" he asked.
"I'll know it when I see it"
Emily took the lead down the steps. She found a lantern and lit it with her wand. It revealed a large spacious area behind the stairs. There was a bed in the corner along with a bedside table but little else. There were symbols carved into the floor that she wasn't sure of. She enquired of Rosier if he recognised the symbols. He said he wasn't familiar with them. Red stains she was sure were blood, scattered here and there. In front of the ladder was situated a magical alcove: a few potion bottles, cauldron and table. A bookshelf stood empty along the wall. Emily crouched down and touched an area of the shelf. She could see in the demarcations of the dust's thickness where the books had been.
"Here, there was a book on Dementors, a very ancient book" she said in a misty voice as if recalling something from a dream
"How can you know that?" Rosier asked
"I just do," she said mystically.
She went over to the table which was a large tree stump growing directly out of the ground. She looked at the dark red seeped into the top, which she figured for blood. It ran into a craved 7-point star. She followed the flow down the sides; ruins carved into the bark decorated the sides. She knew most of the symbols off by heart but the pattern was very unfamiliar. There were one or two ruin symbols she wasn't sure of at all. She reached into her satchel and started taking pictures. She took a picture of the stale bed and abandoned room. She took a picture of the half remembered ruins before they left.
She suggested they call it a day; she'd develop the photos for the morning and they'd continue the investigation then. Rosier asked what she planned to do with the Dementor they had found. Emily replied 'talk to it, of course'.
Instead of going back to the warmth of her family after her ordeal Emily instead returned to her own lonely home. Ostensible she told herself it was to develop the photo but really she knew it something deeper. She was alone in that moment and the pretence of her family would compound her isolation further. Really Emily had always been alone. She needed her own company now to think things through. She sat and made the formulae to develop the film and thought about whom the Dementor had been. After finishing she tried to get some sleep but after several restless hours and the sunlight creeping in she decided to give up. What had spurred her into that room, she had heard something in the back of head like the echo nightmare you have when you've just woken and your still not sure if it real or a dream.
Emily decided to do something useful instead of letting her memory torment her and developed the photos. When she developed the one of the shelf she though it might be wise to go back into Tuppence's memory and see it there were anymore clues given how different the artefact where: there had been a comedy tragedy bust in the dream that wasn't on the shelf, could that mean anything important or had they simply taken it with them. She put the photo aside and developed some more. When she came to the picture of the ruins in the tree stump she suddenly remembered where she knew those symbols from.
She looked at her clock it was 6:00, she could get there in an instance and be back. However before running to get dressed and leave she thought of Rosier. She really should include him but more than that she wanted him there, or someone there, with her. She decided to wait an hour before sending him a telegram to meet her at Azkaban.
As Emily waited on the rocks of Azkaban with the waves crashing against the cliff edge waiting for Rosier to appear her eyes started at the shabby little hut at the end of the cliff. Behind her on the other side of the small island was the prison, as far away as possible, although not far at all, as the Island would allow. She remembered where she had seen those ruins before and on a tree stump too. There had always been rumours about the Island of Azkaban, about what had happened here. There had supposedly been an evil wizard who lived on the Island who lured sailor to the cliff edges doom and from there he'd take them to his hut and perform experiments on them. The myth was this is where Dementors were born and why they constantly return to the island as if called on some pilgrimage to home. Every new guard on Azkaban was dared to enter the hut at the end of cliff. Most didn't because it had this evil presence about it as if someone where waiting behind the door. Of course Emily had entered but even she didn't stay long looking only briefly at the tree trunk that covered the floor ringed with ruins and dried blood in every crevice. She exited hastily as soon as she heard a noise trying to make it seem she was walking briskly while trying to run as fast as she could to the laughter and admiration of her colleagues.
Emily started getting anxious as to whether Rosier would show however she still felt no desire to enter alone. Eventually she saw Rosier walking towards her and he asked what they were doing here. She told him about the similarity of the ruins she'd seen in the basement and those in the hut.
'You went in?' Rosier asked.
'Of course, what about you?'
'Yes, its only a hut'
'But there is something not right about it'
Rosier nodded. They set off together. As they reached the door Emily stopped
And said 'Surely someone has investigated this before, we can't be the first'
'Probably', Rosier replied, 'but if they have its not common knowledge'
Emily pushed back the rancid creaking door and they both entered. The windows were broken and the wind gusted through blowing the tattered curtain about yet there in the centre of the room taking up much of the space stood the solid still severed tree trunk with its silent symbols engraved in the bark.
She wondered how old the tree had been as she tried to count the rings, she couldn't keep up with the lines but guessed there were at least two hundred. Emily took out the photo and held it up for her and Rosier to look at before lowing it and comparing it to the stump in front of them. Whilst the tree in the basement was smaller the ruins looked the same however she needed to be sure so she knelt down to examine them in detail, as she did that Rosier began to cast spells, which for some reason filled her with chills and she could she it perturbed Rosier too if the whiteness on his face was anything to go by.
After she had studied all the ruins to see they were the same she summoned Rosier to leave who by this point was silently waiting attentively to go. It was only when they got outside and a good deal away that Rosier spoke up on what he found.
"You know there are more rooms in that hut, underground?' he said slowly
'We're not here to solve the ancient crimes of Azkaban, we got what we needed' she said
'Were they the same?'
'Identical'
They apparated out of there and onto the Ministry.
They apparated into the cordoned area of the Ministry, which was nearly empty, with only a few early birds twittering about the large halls. Emily thanked Rosier for coming and told him to get some breakfast for himself before starting work proper. Emily made her way down to the Auror office; seeing that the head was in her office she offered to give her report on the update. She seemed mildly interested but came particularly interested when she mentioned their visit to Azkaban this morning, not because it appeared to have any significance to her but because it was unexpected, which she remarked upon. When Emily finished Gelinda told her to make sure Rosier came in to see her and provide her with his report.
Just as Emily was leaving she thought to mention the hidden rooms on the isle of Azkaban, to which Gelinda replied she didn't know what to do with that particular piece of information.
Just as Emily was leaving Gelinda called out her name
'Emily' she said, looking up from a file, 'You need to be very careful, there is only so much I can do to protect you'
She arched an eyebrow and gave her a significant look as if Emily was suppose to understand what it meant or she would have if it had been anyone but Gelinda saying it.
Emily sat at her desk thinking of the day ahead. She really had no clue what she was going to attempt to do; she had no idea of the theory or magic behind what she was attempting or where to even find it. Maybe what she was doing was the first of its kind. Maybe it was the first because no one else had been stupid enough to do it before. However Emily had released long ago everyone was stupid and no one really knows anything anyway. When she had first got her magic there was no one to teach her, she couldn't ask her Mum or teachers, and at some point in history everybody had to do something for the first time and just teach themselves. In the end we are all alone. That's what she was going to do, teach herself; if it truly was the most stupidest idea in history, well, she would find out soon enough. She should wait for Rosier but this was something she needed to do by herself so off she went to the interrogation rooms to interview a Dementor.
She found Rex in the hall and asked him where they were keeping the Dementor.
'Room number 4. All safe guards are on it and a particularly good Patronus is in place to stop any unwanted feeling. To be honest Emily, I know you said we'd have a naked Dementor but I had to put the tablecloth back on it. I can't say it improves it much the bloody thing looks like my Mother in Law with those lacy patterns. Most terrifying sight know to a Husband'
Emily smiled, patted Rex on the back and made her way down to the room. Just before she entered Rex called out
'What are you going to do with that thing anyway?'
'Invite it over to yours for the week, of course' she bellowed back.
'As long as you can convince the missus it really is her Mum, I dare say a week with a Dementor's not half as bad as one with her Mum', he replied back turning back to the morning paper as Emily enter interrogation room number 4.
There it was on the far side of the room floating in the corner with it back facing her and the red flora pattern draping from its shoulders clutching it tight as if it were cold. Emily closed the door before she called out.
'Hello'
The Dementor remained hanging in the corner unmoved by her call. The Patronus was working well she could barely even feel the drop in climate of the room and that sense of misery that infects the air, which she was more sensitive to. Dementors had never affected her the same way as others. By the time she had begun the training in the Auror academy she was so proficient with her Patronus she barely had the time to feel the effect before her conjuring put a stop to it. However whenever she had felt it, it always came on more physically like her mind was blank but her body shock with fear. It meant that she usually had a clear head so she could act quickly but if didn't her body gave out quicker. Luckily that had never been a problem, until yesterday when Rosier had to save her. Why had she been so eager to get down there and why had she forgotten her wand.
'Who are you?' she called out.
Still the Dementor hung in the corner unmoved.
'Look at me'
Again it just hung there unmoved. She knew what she needed to do to get its attention.
Emily stepped beyond the Patronus barrier and grabbed for the tablecloth. In that moment she heard these blips of noise faintly in the back of her head like she was listening to someone turning on and off a cassette player rapidly underwater. She fell back on the side of the Patronus barrier covered in sweet and her knees weak but with the tablecloth in hand. It had only been a couple of seconds yet she felt exhausted. However it certainly got the Dementor's attention. It had turned and tried to ram the barrier, when it couldn't get through it stood there staring at her, or would have done if it had eyes for scabbed skin had fermented over the eye sockets.
'Tell me who you are?'
Nothing
'How did you get in that basement?'
Nothing
'What happened to you?'
Nothing
She waited. Nothing happened. She waited still till it opened its mouth but all that came out was a rattle. It looked almost piteous standing there naked. She picked up the tablecloth and wrapped it around the Dementor through the Patronus barrier. Suddenly it grabbed her hand and began pulling her body through the barrier. It clasped its rotting hands around her face and opened its mouth and leaned its head in as if the kiss her tenderly. A spark flew out of her wand as she jammed it into the Dementors face. She fell to the floor and when she looked back it was again in the corner with it back to her and the floral pattern draped across its back. She tried to catch her breath feeling stupid that she had forgotten how dangerous a creature she was dealing with. There was something that drew her towards this creature, some connection, she felt it was an innocent before but she could not forget what it was. She stood up and as she left the room she said 'I will save you' and she thought she saw its head turn a little out of the corner of her eye but when she looked up it was unmoved in the corner facing the wall.
"Do Dementors have memories of their past lives?" Emily asked Rosier
"No ones cared to ask that before" Rosier said with real concern
"I'm asking now"
"I don't know"
"Then I'll find out"
She walked down to the interrogation centre, asked Rex to lift his Patronus Barrier, which he did reluctantly. Emily performed her own Patronus and entered the room. She slew back the Dementor pinning it into a corner. She summoned a stool, a table and a series of decanters. She was going to see what lay in the mind of a Dementor.
She brought her wand to the temple of the Dementor and proceeded to summon out the memories. They came out like viscous tar and seemed to send misery cursing through her wand infecting her hand. She felt cold, numb and tired after extracting the first memory but she pushed on. Each memory was the same viscous black, she became more and more wane but on she went. Rosier came in to check on her bringing her a sandwich and cup of tea, she didn't eat. On and on she went draw darkness from the mind of a black creature; further and further her tiredness grew and an ache filled her whole body. She had filled twenty bottles with congealed filth when she saw it, mixed with the filth she was drawing from the mind was a drop of silver like a pearl hidden in a lake of sewage. She reached out to grab it and placed it in a bottle and in this moment Rosier re-entered the room. 'Enough' he shouted and Emily didn't have the energy to resist as she fell from her chair not realising how tired she was.
When she woke Rosier was standing at the end of her bed talking to someone and a nurse came over. Immediately she told her she needed to drink this potion or she'd lose her hand. Emily did so without thinking. Rosier was by her bedside by now admonishing her.
'What do you think you were doing behaving so recklessly?'
'Err, I think I was extracting memories from a Dementor, stupid' Emily said irritated.
'Take a look at your hand'
Emily looked at her hand and saw black marks on her fingers tip like dead skin.
'That's dead skin on your fingertips that can never be healed. The nurse will have to cut it off then re-grow the area. They said any more and they might not have been able to repair it. Are you listening? Is this registering with you?'
'Yes, Captain tight pants' Emily said trying to sound breezy but a lingering concern coming trough.
'I don't see how you can make joke… do you realise the magnitude of what's happened to you. If I had left you another hour you would have likely lost your whole hand'
'OK, Rosier. I get it, I'm sorry. I never realised you and my hand were so much in love.'
'Oh, do shut up'
Emily burst out laughing and Rosier smiled despite himself.
"No seriously, Rosier, thank you. If you want I still think my hand is up to giving you a quick hand job'
'Is there no decorum you won't break'?
'Lowering the brow is an accomplishment', she said as the nurse came over saying she had to remove the dead skin. She proceeded to pull out some god-awful instrument and cut off the tip of Emily's fingers. Emily let out a scream and Rosier let out a little laugh.
It took two days for Emily's fingertips to grow back, even tough it had been the thinnest slice, and made Emily worry about how reckless she had been. They insisted she couldn't leave the bed, as she would be very weak. This meant all the work had to be brought to her. However the downtime gave her a chance to plan ahead; she made a number of appointments with various experts who she wanted to consult particularly one about photographs and she and Rosier discussed the results the Obliviators had given about the Dementors memories she had extracted.
They had never seen anything like the viscous liquid she had pulled out of the Dementor's mind, as far as they could tell it had much of the same properties as normal memories but they couldn't see anything when gazed at from the outside and everyone was too afraid to enter fearing there may be no way back. As to the pea sized silver marble it appeared to be a frozen memory; if they hazard to guess it would be the Dementor's dying memory, however they had not be able to unfreeze it.