My experience with a dementor
Author: TraScully
Rating: K
Summary: So... how would our favorite Harry Potter characters react to the dementors? Or, how did they react to them?

Note: I took crazy mad personal liberties when describing the inside of Azkaban and visiting rights and the wards, etc. I have no idea what Azkaban is like, because we're never really taken there. So I tried to make it plausible... it made sense to me that they'd want some wizards there at all times, not just the dementors. It just seemed like something could go wrong and it's not like dementors are going to jump up and help... so yeah. If you have any better ideas for the prison, review and tell me because I'm trying to make it believable. Thanks!

Chapter 4: Remus Lupin
I had studied all about dementors at Hogwarts, I was very interested in them, and when James and Sirius suggested we go to Azkaban one day during summer break, I thought they were joking. But no, as I had come to learn, you really could expect anything out of those two. As the day neared, I became overcome with excitement. Even though they were said to be among the foulest creatures on earth, I longed to see one finally. The pictures and the books didn't teach me everything I longed to learn, and maybe this trip would.

They came up with a plan, a pretty good one I admit, to ask and see Professor McGonagall's grandfather that worked there. He was apparently some kind of warden or guard or something, and they could say they were Hogwarts students and needed to shadow him for some reason. It sounded like a good excuse to get in at the time, but we had no idea the kind of security they had at Azkaban.

The second we entered the prison, I knew our idea wouldn't work. Before we even got to the first guard, I felt my insides growing cold. Looking to the sides, I saw two dementors closing in on us. The outsiders. I gasped and tried to grab Sirius but my arms wouldn't move and so I was left standing there, staring wide-eyed at the two demons.

Then everything went black. I was standing in the yard next to Sirius' house. It was ten years ago, midnight. Nymphadora Tonks had gotten out of her car and was walking toward the front door of Sirius' house, humming some catchy bobble-gum song, when she heard me. She whirled around and caught sight of me, and then she went white as a sheet and sort of froze. I growled and lunged toward her. She screamed and tried to get away, but I had seen recognition in her eyes the second before. She knew it was me, and that she was in grave danger. Something inside me screamed "DON'T DO IT! SHE'S YOUR FRIEND!" But then some carnal instinct took over and I just had the urge to bite her. I pinned her down on the ground and growled as loud as I could.

Just then, the front door flew open and Sirius, James, and Peter came dashing out of the house. Sirius was already changed into his dog form, and he and Peter tackled me. Sirius' paws scratched at me, trying to keep me away from Tonks long enough for James to get her inside. She wasn't hurt, no, but I had scared her out of her mind. Peter pulled the vial out of his pocket they had prepared for me, but I had forgotten about. My potion. He poured as much of it as he could down my throat, and Sirius really outdid himself by holding me down. I always underestimated his strength. Once the potion had gone down my throat, I struggled for a few seconds more but then went limp. I was exhausted, and they slowly backed away from me.

James came back out of the house, and Nymphadora insisted on watching from the window. Why in the world she'd want to watch my painful transformation back into a human, I'll never know. But she did. As always, I thought I would die. The pain was immeasureable, and once the change was complete Sirius hurriedly slipped a t-shirt over my head. Blood dripped from scratched on my chest from Sirius, but of course I couldn't hold it against him. He had stopped me from killing Tonks, or worse, from making her a werewolf.

As the three helped me inside, I couldn't help stealing a glance at Tonks, who was still nestled at the window, shaken but unharmed. She didn't take her eyes off me. It was almost as if... as if she understood me. She didn't hate me, or fear me, or pity me... or maybe it was a mixture of all three. But I think she understood me.