I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.
A Dance of Dementors
Chapter 2: Fourth Year, Questions Asked
Arthur Weasley looked surprised at the question. "Why Harry, what brought this about?"
Harry grinned, trying to look like someone who asked random questions for purely educational purposes. He was reminded of Hermione and tried very hard to mimic an expression she would wear. "Well I know you work for the Ministry and seeing how they are technically a part of the Ministry, you might know more about them."
Arthur rubbed his chin. "I wouldn't say they were a part of the Ministry. Not technically work for the Ministry either. More like the Ministry is somewhat responsible for them. They like to think they have a lot of control over them but," he dropped his voice into a whisper, "they really don't. Not as much as they like but you didn't hear that from me."
"So sort of like you and the twins then?" Harry whispered back mischievously. "You being somewhat responsible for them and not having as much control over them."
Arthur laughed heartily. The other members of the family and Hermione looked their way with interest but Arthur waved a hand at them. "Oh that was very funny Harry," he chortled. "And more accurate than I like. Don't say that to Molly. She'd be scandalized." He sipped his wine.
"Well, I don't know much about them but I'll answer any questions that I can. I can't fault you for being curious. That sort of thing…always does."
Harry shuddered a little like Arthur did. For a moment he regretted asking the question. It was a beautiful night. The food was delicious, the company wonderful. Tomorrow they would head out to the Quidditch World Cup. It was not the best time to ask such a question.
However Harry knew he may not have time after the World Cup to ask. He had no access to any Wizarding World knowledge when he was at the Dursley's. He also imagined it was not something he would want to ask about in a letter sent by Hedwig. Plus he trusted Mr Weasley. His male best friend's father had always been kind and honest to Harry. He was the one that warned Harry about Sirius Black before anyone else last year.
Arthur had been wrong of course but that could be forgiven since he did not know what really happened.
"Just a couple of questions Mr Weasley. I won't let it ruin things. Just a bit curious. Ever since last year you know." Harry coughed. "Where are Dementors originally from?"
"Not sure really. They've been around for ages. If I can recall, their origin had been long forgotten, encouraged by the early Ministries. There are two major thoughts about them: that they were either created in some dark experiment, or they were discovered. Maybe a combination of both? It's hard to imagine that Dementors were a natural creature, terrifying and dangerous."
"You could say the same about dragons and basilisks though."
Arthur nodded. "You're not wrong. Still, I might rather go against a dragon or a basilisk over a Dementor. Though if I'm being honest I rather not go against any of them. I have plenty to deal with here at home." The patriarch looked fondly at the twins fleeing their mother for one of their pranks.
Harry laughed as he watched the chase around the garden. "So Dementors have always worked as guards of Azkaban?"
"Just about. Azkaban used to be the private island of an ancient Dark Lord. I think after he was defeated, he became the first inmate. It was always a bleak place and as you might imagine, not many would willingly be guards of dangerous individuals so far away. Then one day Dementors were patrolling the island and most of Magical United Kingdom breathed a sigh of relief."
"Even…after most of them joined Voldemort-sorry, You-Know-Who?" Harry, so used to saying Voldemort's name, momentarily forgot that most others avoided the name and would flinch violently at it being said.
"Well, yes and no. Dumbledore was the most outspoken during and after the war. He said they could not be trusted since they did join the other side. He did not blame them though surprisingly. He said it is in their nature to feed on positive feelings and emotion. That they suffer from a Hunger."
Harry leaned forward. He knew that fact from Her, the rogue Dementor he…befriended…last year. Now he was starting to make good his promise on learning more about Dementors.
"Still, there was a dreadful rush to get things back to normal. So Fudge ignored Dumbledore, saying that with You-Know-Who gone, the threat of betrayal is no longer a threat." Arthur shrugged. "I can't say I am sad about Dementors guarding Azkaban. That being said, I've been there before for work." He shivered. "It is not a pleasant place to be."
Harry sat back. "Have Dementors joined other Dark Lords in the past?"
"Now that you mention it, no. Not en masse. One or two here and there but those were more personally enthralled. I guess You-Know-Who offered them something that the others didn't."
The boy smiled at the older wizard. "Thanks Mr Weasley. I'm sorry for ruining your night by asking weird questions. I just figured you wouldn't mind answering them."
"Of course Harry." Arthur squeezed the boy's shoulder. "I'm happy that you feel like you can ask me questions. You didn't ruin anything. I was just surprised." A loud explosion rocked the garden and Molly's voice rose higher as she chased the twins even faster, trailing smoke and sparks.
"Now this isn't surprising at all," Arthur said wearily to Harry's laughter. "Still doesn't ruin anything either though."
-0-
Bill Weasley walked into the room just as Ron stormed out. Ron was so irate he completely ignored Bill as he walked out, Pigwidgeon the owl in his hands.
"Sheesh, what bent his wand?" Bill asked Harry.
Harry looked sheepish, pointing to the dress robes on Ron's bed.
"Ahhhh, I told mum that she should have picked something else." Bill held up the vintage robes and gave it a closer look. "To be fair, these looked a lot nicer at the store. Then again, might be because the other options were a lot worse." He held the robes to his front. "I bet I could pull these off though."
Harry laughed. He liked the oldest Weasley sibling a lot, despite just meeting him a few days prior. He radiated cool, had an easy-going nature that was equal parts confident and kind.
Bill smirked. "I did offer to get Ron's dress robes, but I was already getting Ginny's and helping with the general things. Mum didn't want me to be spending too much. I wanted to, but, well you know."
Harry did know. He desperately wanted to help the Weasleys. The first family that had wanted him to be there. He wanted to give them everything.
The older redhead clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Hey don't worry about it. We'll get by. I know you're a good kid." He closed the door behind them and locked it with a wave of his wand. "Good thing I knew that before you asked me to get this book for you."
Harry tried to look innocent and was failing slightly. "Thanks Bill, I'm glad you got it for me. You know, I probably should have given you a few extra Galleons for shipping and handling."
Bill did not hand the book over. "And for not telling mum you mean. If she knew you wanted this, you'd be getting an ear full and no book."
"That's why I didn't ask her. I asked Ron's cooler older brother that I can ask anything."
Bill laughed loudly. "You've learned a few things from the twins! Sneaky, I'll have to keep my eye on you Potter." He handed the book over. "Now, I'd appreciate you telling me why you want a book about Dementors. There really aren't many of them and most people who get them are usually either dodgy or are in a business where they need to know. Thankfully I'm in the latter. Where are you?"
Harry blushed. "Uhm, the third one. The one where people have a morbid fascination and want to learn for no other reason?"
"People don't want to learn things for no reason."
"Have you met Hermione?"
Bill laughed again. "Alright, you got me there. Just promise me something. Don't go showing that book off and don't go telling people what's in it. I'm trusting you here."
"I swear, this is to help me." And someone else.
Bill smiled. "Sounds good. Now tell me more about how much cooler I am."
-0-
This time, Harry could believe he was doing this.
Since returning to Hogwarts, he had felt the connection grow stronger. All summer it was dormant but there. A tiny feeling that never went away completely. It no longer bothered him, just something that was there. If anything he liked it. It was a tiny connection to the events of last year.
The last few nights he had been reading Dancers in the Dark, a Dissertation on Dementors. Ron had been disgusted that Harry was reading for fun. While Hermione approved of the activity, she found the subject too much for her. However she did not try to dissuade him, even showing interest when Harry shared the more mild things he learned.
At first he thought the connection was growing stronger because he was reading about Dementors. There were times he had to suppress some memories while reading the book. He physically felt the unfortunately familiar sensations described. It was quite fascinating in a morbid way. It gave him the, odd, thrill of learning while learning a bit too much about the darker side of magic.
Goodness, is this what Hermione feels all the time? A thrill for learning?
He knew that he only liked learning more, that he was willing to learn more, for a certain individual. An individual that had saved his life. He did not feel obligated to help her. He did not feel forced to read and learn more. He genuinely wanted to.
It felt nice to want to help.
The connection grew the more he read and one night, ensconced in a cozy corner looking out of a window in Gryffindor tower, he found himself looking out over the forest. The connection became a call, a subtle but noticeable tugging. He looked out and blinked. He imagined he could see a flicker of movement at the forest's edge.
He blinked again. He definitely saw something moving. Something swathed in dark ragged robes.
Harry ran to the dormitory and grabbed his cloak. On the way down the stairs he found Fred and told him, untruthfully, that he heard some students at the fire saying that it was a quiet night. Harry slipped out of the tower during the ensuing chaos. Fred had taken the false words to heart, found George, and now the common room rang from an impromptu concert of enchanted instruments.
Harry found himself approaching an ancient tree. It was the unofficial border between the school's grounds and the Forbidden Forest proper. It was very big, long roots peeked out from the ground, perfect for sitting on and hiding between. He recognized it as the last place he saw her last year.
He did not wait long. First he shivered lightly from the night's chill. Then the shiver intensified as he felt something wash over him. As soon as it appeared however, it faded. Turning from bone chilling despair to a very mild frost.
"Hi uh…. We really need to find your name. I don't know what to call you."
The floating robed figure drifting down from the tree tops. Its frayed and ragged robes somehow avoided every branch and twig, passing untouched. It settled nearby, closer than it ever approached Harry last year save for that one terrible time.
"It is near the top of my list," she said. Gone was the rasp in her voice. Gone was the strange echoing of words overlapping words. Her voice was still deep, it still spoke of the shadow and of the dark. However it was definitely brighter.
"What's at the top?"
"Greeting you and seeing how you are."
Harry blushed, thankful that it was night and he could hide his crimson face. Then he idly wondered if Dementors saw like he did. "I'm doing fine thank you. How are you?"
She giggled, that spectral sound that was both comforting and disturbing. "Well. Better. I have more control now over my thoughts and urges. I have grown in my ability to ignore the Hunger. I have learned much this summer."
Harry waved the book that he brought. "I'm starting to learn stuff too! Let's trade information."
He told her how Dementors did exist naturally. There were accounts of Dementors being found in places steeped in dark magic. However there also seemed to be different kinds of Dementors. Some were more powerful, more hungry. These stronger Dementors were harder to banish with a Patronus but none were immune. The stronger Dementors could exert a small amount of control over other Dementors. They were more clever, able to perform different tasks.
"I believe that is correct," she mused. "I have noticed that there are some of my kind that are weaker to the wills of others. They fall prey to their Hunger far more easily than others. They are baser creatures, more susceptible to their base desires. It is something I never would have noticed before becoming this way. I have been able to influence some to my will. Most interesting."
Harry felt elated. Here he was getting first hand experiences from a Dementor, and it was supporting what he was reading. He found himself looking forward to reading more.
I really am becoming more like Hermione. I guess I shouldn't tease her as much for reading.
Harry told her of the first few days of school. Of Mad-Eye Moody and the Tri-Wizard Tournament.
"He is known to me, the Auror," she said. "Be wary of him Harry."
"You think he means to hurt us?" he asked, worried.
"No, but he has peered long into the dark. He has fought evil. The longer you spend in the presence of the dark, the more at risk you are. I do not believe he means you ill. However, I rather you be careful."
He felt touched by her concern. It embarrassed him, but it also made him feel good. Here, a so-called dark creature, cared about him. He knew she did, since she saved his life last year. More than the one time really.
"Well I'm spending time with you but I think I'm safe."
She floated higher off the ground. Her arms clutched at herself. She wavered in the night air.
Harry felt the connection between them flare. It seemed to tingle and for the first time he felt something besides the call and the presence. He felt warmth.
"You will always be safe in my presence. I guarantee it." Thankfully she seemed to ignore his second blush of the night. "I hope you do not intend on participating in the tournament."
Harry snorted. "No, not interested at all. I want a boring year. Besides I'm too young."
"Good. I can remember being a part of the tournament once. It was…unpleasant. Now that I look back at it."
"As a champion?" Harry asked without thinking.
"No."
He thought again and winced and blushed a third time. "Oh, right. Sorry."
She giggled. "No need to be." She rose into the air and began to drift deeper into the woods. "I must go. While the Ministry does not seem to make a distinction between us, if I am gone too long they will question. I rather not add to your problems. However, if you need of me, call me and I will come as soon as I am able."
"Oh thanks. I hope you don't get into trouble, if Dementors can get into trouble. You're a good friend."
She paused and the connection burned. "What did you call me?"
"Uhm, I said or I mean, I called you a good friend. Is that okay? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
The silence dragged on, louder than thunder. It threatened to swallow Harry.
"You did not offend me. I am proud to be your friend."
She fled deeper into the forest and Harry felt the Aura disappear completely. He walked back to the castle, blaming the cold for how red his face was.
-0-
"Harry?"
He looked up, shocked. He did not think anyone would find him. In fact he had hid here deliberately so no one should have found him. He had tucked himself between the roots of the tree, facing away from the castle. He wore his cloak and did his ample best to sob as silently as possible.
The days after Halloween had been among the worst of his life. Not only was it the grim reminder of the day he lost his parents, the day that he got his scar, he had been forced to be the fourth champion. The hate he had gotten from the majority of the school, the contempt from the students visiting the school, the anger he felt from the unfairness of it all consumed him.
The lost of one of his best friends shattered him.
He had been completely overwhelmed and had fled the common room. He was going to wait for nightfall to slip away. It was too much however. He had seen so many of those damn badges on the way to Gryffindor tower. He had heard too many insults thrown his way from those he used to call friendly classmates.
Hearing nothing from Ron had broken him further.
"Harry. What happened?"
He looked about for the speaker, confused when he saw no one. Then he recognized the voice and looked up.
She floated above him. She was shivering, her robes undulating from obvious discomfort. The sunlight seemed drawn to her and he thought he could see wisps of some kind material floating off of her. The sunlight was dissolving her robes, slowly.
She tried to float closer to him but she visibly restrained herself. It was not because of the sunlight. He was sitting in the shadow of the tree. He realized belatedly it was out of respect for him. Out of care. Her Aura clung to him but it did not cause him Dread. He oddly found it comforting, like a wet blanket on a hot day. Uncomfortable under some conditions, craved for during others.
"Can't you see what happened, my thoughts and memories?" he said bitterly. He groaned at her flinch. Here he was being rude to someone that cared about him. Perhaps only one of two that really cared about him. And she was not even human.
He felt worse.
"I could yes. But that is something a friend would not do to a friend." Her voice held no contempt, no anger, no condemnation. It was said simply. Sincerely.
Somehow, he felt even worse.
"I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"You did not offend me," she interrupted. She giggled and the sound went through him. "Tell me what has happened. Please."
His voice broke and his words flooded out of him. He told her about being the fourth champion. How the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws had turned on him. How Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory looked down on him. How Ron had abandoned him.
She did not interrupt him once.
When he finally stopped speaking, when he panted from exhaustion from letting everything out, she floated until she was by his side.
"I am so sorry Harry. If I could consume your pain, I would. Unfortunately, things do not work that way."
He nodded. If anyone had ever told him he would want a Dementor to eat his emotions he would say they were crazy. Now it seemed rather worth it.
"I don't know what to do," he said softly.
"You will do what you always do. You will survive. You will endure. You will overcome."
He snorted.
Her cowled head turned to him and there was no mistaking the conviction in her voice. "You are strong. You are a boy." If a cowl could smile, hers would have when she saw Harry bristle. "You are a young man, but not a fully mature Wizard of a man. You drove off a pack of Dementors. You saved the lives of others. You survived. You have made me into something different. There is no doubt, you are strong."
For some reason, being praised by a Dementor made it more palatable than coming from others. "Thanks, I guess."
"You are welcome."
They sat together in the tiny oasis of darkness in the sea of sunlight.
"How did you know I was here?"
"Your pain called out to me. My Hunger…craved it. I craved to aid you instead."
"Oh."
The silence between them was warm.
"Any advice for the coming task?"
She shook her head. "I cannot interfere. The tournament is a strong magical event. If I interfere without the express invitation of the Ministry it will be my undoing. I cannot chance that now. Any other way I may aid you, I will do so. However, I have belief in your abilities Harry. And in you."
"Thanks. I mean it. It's nice knowing someone does."
She drifted away. "I am not the only one, but I am one."
-0-
"I am happy to see you in finer spirits."
Harry grinned. After the first task, it was hard not to smile. It only took a Summoning Charm, his Firebolt, and a dragon to change his formerly disastrous mood. While he liked how things were now, the remedy was almost worse than the condition.
He told her about the first task, how he managed to get the Golden Egg. How the school was much nicer to him now. How Ron was nicer to him now.
She clapped her hands but no sound came forth. The motion was there however, and the intent behind the gesture.
"Well done," she said. "I had no doubt."
"I had plenty for the both of us," he joked. He ran a hand through his hair and deflated slightly.
"What is wrong now? I thought you do not know the contents of your second clue yet."
He looked sheepish. "Well, it's kinda silly to complain about this considering it's not a…you know…dragon. But I have to find a date to the Yule Ball. As a champion I am pretty much on display and I can't skip the ball and I can't not have a date. It's…strangely more stressful than my first task."
"Surely there are many who would accompany you."
He shrugged. "I guess? I mean, yeah I've been asked but I don't know them. And I don't want to just go with anyone. I want to be…comfortable around them. I want them to want to go with me because of…me. Not because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, or because I'm a champion."
The silence grew awkward.
Harry felt the connection shift slightly, it started to pull on him. He felt his energy being drained ever so slightly. It was not the same intensity of the Aura devouring happy thoughts or positive emotions. It was a tentative feeling, of someone shyly sipping from a straw.
She was changing. She drifted to the ground and stood upon it with human legs. The ragged overlarge robes began to shift and shrink, revealing human limbs, revealing skin. The cowl fell away and for a moment a featureless head with only a gaping maw was seen before it began to change. Hair sprouted from the top of the skull. The mouth shrank and changed.
She had changed. Her robes still looked archaic, the edges somewhat frayed and ragged. She was still thin, almost wasted looking. Her eyes were overlarge, deep set. They lacked pupils and looked like pools of purple black ink. Her hair was grey with black strands, hanging down to her waist. Her skin was marble pale, untouched by sunlight.
She still towered over him. She still had the Aura. She looked and felt something close to human but was not quite.
She's beautiful.
Harry's face went as red as a tomato, hoping he did not say his thoughts out loud.
She gave no indication that she had heard it. Instead she walked slowly, like someone unused to walking, to the lake's edge. She looked down at her reflection and an uncertain smile grew. "Almost perfect."
"Perfect?"
She looked at him and he thought he should be bothered by featureless eyes. He was not in the slightest.
"I remember this form. This is a person in my memories. Every day I think I see a little more of her and I am pleased to appear like her. She feels…familiar."
"That's amazing. I'm happy you're remembering more. I didn't know Dementors could even do that. The memory thing and the changing thing." He stumbled over his words, cursing himself silently.
"I did not know I could," she admitted. "I wanted to try and help, and the idea came to me. It is only possible by borrowing some of your magic. I hope you do not mind." She looked uncertain, shy.
"Of course I don't! It's different with you…borrowing…it like this. It doesn't feel like draining. It feels like me casting a spell."
She smiled.
"Good. I am glad to hear that."
"I thought you weren't allowed to interfere with a task though," he said, cursing himself more intensely.
"Since this is an unofficial task, one not scored for the tournament, I believe it is fine. Besides, you are a representative of the Ministry in this case, as a designated champion. If you…invite…me, then in essence I have the permission to accompany you. Should you wish." Her pale skin tinged ever so slightly.
"Yes! I mean I do wish it. I mean, ugh wait." He rubbed sweaty hands on his pants. "Would you like to go to the ball with me?"
Her smile grew brighter.
"I would like that." She frowned slightly. "Not quite like this however."
He watched in astonishment as her form shrank further. Her limbs shortened; her features softened. After a few moments she was shorter than she was, though still taller than Harry. She looked youthful now, a younger version of the form she had before.
"I was too old for you, in the last form." Her marble skin took a dusky hue. "I am still older but I look more…appropriate. I would not wish to embarrass you."
He grinned. "You did not embarrass me."
-0-
If anyone told Harry that he would enjoy himself at the Yule Ball he would say they were delusional.
Now that he was at the Ball, he could admit that he was having a wonderful time.
Getting permission from Professor Dumbledore had been difficult. He tried to be as vague as he could to the Headmaster about her origins. He knew Dumbledore would not believe him that she was some foreign visiting student. Instead he had said, truthfully, that she was a friend.
Dumbledore insisted on meeting her and when they did, with her in her youthful form, the older wizard had looked very grave. If he truly knew what she was he never said it out loud. Instead he had a long discussion with both of them. It took several oaths and promises to allow her to attend.
Finally he allowed it when Harry reminded him that Harry was an unwilling participant in the tournament and Dumbledore could explain to the Daily Prophet why the fourth champion refused to attend. That Harry was more than willing to ignore the rest of the tournament and participate in a most unflattering manner.
Dumbledore agreed in the end. When he did, he had a very distinct twinkle in his eye. A twinkle Harry recognized as one that George and Fred had most of the time. Of someone who knew they were about to cause mischief and looked forward to the results.
All night people have been staring at Harry and his date and for once it was not because of Harry, but because of her. He loved it.
He thought she might be enjoying the attention to.
She had said as much. Not because she desired the attention per se. But that it was attention not focused on him. She even let her Aura slip a little around those that had particularly cruel and rude to Harry the last few months.
He knew he should have told her not to. He never found the time nor the motivation.
He told no one else the identity to his date save for Hermione. At first he was afraid she would protest nor approve. Luckily Hermione did not exactly approve but was more or less accepting of the situation once she met the Dementor. It was a mark in her favor that Hermione had seen the Dementor defend Harry last year.
Hermione could not withstand the Aura for long, but she attempted to. Something that Harry was incredibly thankful for.
During the opening dance Harry felt both out of place and where he felt like he should be. He hated being the center of attention. He hated the strange looks he got, felt confusion at the jealous looks, hated being on display.
He liked that he was accompanied by someone that was there for him. Not for his title, not for what he did as a baby. He was happy to have a friend with him. Even the dancing was pleasant. Touching her hand and side was a little odd. Her skin was cold, possessing no warmth despite the fires and the Warming Charms cast on the Great Hall. It was not completely unpleasant however. It was like touching a popsicle on a summer day, a very extreme temperature that was shocking but welcoming.
She moved gracefully. She did not control him nor push him. She subtly guided him in a very old but elegant dance. She practically, and literally, floated on her feet. Her touch was also ice cold but it did not bother him. It soothed him, like an ice pack on tired muscles.
Eventually they left the Ball, her Aura keeping people from following. They walked hand in hand to the edge of the grounds. The cold winter air was enhanced by the night, amplified by her Aura, yet Harry was not bothered in the slightest.
"You enjoyed that too much," he said with a smile.
"I did." She wore the smile easily now. A hint of naturalness on a supernatural face. "Dementors are creatures of emotion. Dancing, singing, are expressions of emotion. It calls to us as much as positive feelings do. It is a natural, primal thing. Something I have not shared in for ages. I usually consume and devour. It was pleasant to be a part of it for once. To add to it instead of taking."
Her smile grew predatory. "Besides, it was nice to…chastise your errant classmates for their misdeeds."
He chuckled. "You should be careful. We had to make a deal with Dumbledore after all."
She tossed her head and her heavy grey black hair swayed. "I was on my best behavior. I ate nothing. Your magic sustained me quite comfortably. I kept a firm control over my Aura, with an unfortunate slip here and there. I did not Kiss anyone."
Harry laughed. "Did you have fun?"
A pause.
"I did."
Another pause.
"Did you?" Her voice was hesitant.
"So much," he said easily.
"Good. I am glad." Her voice warmed ever so slightly.
They reached the edge of the forest and he reluctantly released her hand. The returning warmth to his skin was welcome but he almost rather it was still missing, for a specific reason. He watched her change. She grew in height again. Her robes shifted back to the ragged swirls of heavy shadowy cloth.
Before the cowl reappeared, before her hair dissolved and her eyes faded, her face dipped towards his and then drew back.
Harry's cheek burned and froze. It tingled where her lips touched.
"I…I thought you said you wouldn't kiss anyone."
The cowl came up and her face was swallowed by the darkness within. "Oh Harry, there is Kissing, and then there is kissing. I broke no promises."
He was alone. Her Aura was absent. The cold he felt was purely from the winter's chill in the middle of the night. Yet, as he walked slowly back to the castle, the tingle in his cheek did not fade.
-0-
He sat and waited, listening to the water of the lake lap against the shore. His eyes were closed, a vain attempt to not see everything that happened the last two days. Too much had happened. Too much for a lifetime, much less in only two days.
Hedges that reached for the sky. Giant beasts of chitin and pincers. A graveyard. Figures cloaked in black and masked in silver. A terrible nightmare made into reality. A dead classmate, a friend.
His parents, echoes of who they were in life.
He wanted to cry. To sob and wail. He wanted to scream. He could not do any of those things. He had done enough of them to last a lifetime.
A lifetime in two days.
He felt her Aura. It draped over him, drew him in. He felt her approach, closer and closer. He felt a skeletal hand rest on his arm. Her touch burned his skin through the robes.
He welcomed it.
"Are you sure you can't eat my pain?" he asked lamely, with more than a hint of desperate hope.
"I am sure." Her reply dripped with sadness and want. "I truly wish I could."
"I don't know if I'd let you to be honest, I bet it would taste bad."
The sound of the water filled the air.
"Harry, I do not wish to add to your problems, but I need to tell you something."
He groaned. "As if I don't have enough going on. Alright then, go ahead."
"He is calling us."
His eyes opened and he looked at her in horror. "What?"
"He calls. The Wasted One. His rebirth sent waves of dark magic throughout. I could feel his return, all my kind could. Already he calls for us, to tell us to go to him. He promises us what he did before: ripe prey. Their agony fresh, their emotions raw, all for the taking."
Harry did not stop the sob in his voice. "How can we fight against that? How can I fight against that? Are the Dementors going to him?"
"Some are. The weakest and most base of the Dementors flock to him. The older and stronger remain but some remain at his command."
Harry wanted to beat his head against the ground but something made him stop. A tone in her voice. A reservation. "Some do? At his command?" His heart rose ever so slightly at her nod. "But not all?"
"No. Not all. I deny him. He is not my master. I heed him not. Not all heed him either."
His heart leapt higher.
"I have found that I have some influence over some of the others. Some have also ignored him. Some are starting to change."
"Like you?"
"Not as much but yes. Like me."
"How?! Did someone else cast a Patronus at them? Did you figure something out?"
Her voice was hesitant, as if unwilling to bear false hope. Yet there was an undeniable sense of wonder to it, a conviction. "No one else has. But I took your words and tested them. I am able to influence the desires of those weaker than I. I am able to ignore the commands of certain Wizards and Witches. I am able to feel a…connection…to some Dementors."
"Like ours?"
"Similar. Not exactly the same. But I can see into their thoughts, see what I think are their memories. I can feel them. I believe they can feel me."
"That's amazing." He felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry, I haven't really read more of the book and learned more about Dementors."
"You have had a very busy year," she said kindly. "I blame you for nothing."
He felt a little better. "I promise, I will. I'll read more and if we can figure out how you became what you are now, we can hopefully spread it to the other Dementors." And maybe there will be less for me to fight against.
"Then there will be others to support you," she said, as if she knew what he was thinking.
"Others?" His voice quavered.
"You are not alone Harry. You have my support. From now. To the end."
Her head came down, her forehead touched his. The thick cloth of the Dementor's hood felt strange against him, like the sensation of cobwebs pulling against bare skin. The shadows clung to him, saturated him.
He missed the sensation when she drew back. He missed it more when her hand left his arm. When her Aura dissipated.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"You are welcome."
