I give J.K. Rowling credit for everything. Enjoy!

CHAPTER I

So I had hit rock bottom. I had just been trying to unlearn everything that I had been essentially indoctrinated with when that nasty Death Eater Bellatrix somehow- and believe me I know, what are the fucking chances- found me in a tree and apparently I, of all Dementors, had been her single favorite fucking Dementor from her time in Azkaban, and, well, things went downhill after that.

"Oh, do I spot Dementy #0072?" she cooed.

"NOPE!" I wanted to scream, but I can't talk. We were in a suburb outside of London, which was where I spent most of my time after the war had ended and they had released all of the Dementors. She was supposed to be in Azkaban, of course, but I guess if she had been able to escape in the Dementor era, I can imagine how easy it must be for her sans-Dementor…

"I think I might! Oh, I have been looking for you!" she sang. Shit, I thought. And by the way, I really wanted to suck her soul out right about then but for one, I think that turns her on and two, it would have actually made me sick because I was (and this was a new sensation) full. (When the Ministry had released the Dementors they put a new product out, SOULYmilk, which is basically a soul substitute for Dementors that comes in Muscle-Milk shaped bottles.) (It's funny because you'd think Dementors would have been thriving in the Azkaban environment, with the truly excessive amount of prisoners, but due to the even more excessive amount of Dementors, it was not uncommon for a Dementor to be malnourished, myself included.)

Yeah, so she was apparently so desperate to see me that she climbed the tree and before I even realized what was happening, she had taken hold of me. Although I was no longer malnourished, being a Dementor I was still pretty willowy. "I have some exciting plans for you!" she sang. Oh, no, I thought. This is really bad.

She explained to me as she was walking through the suburb sadistically, holding me like a sack of potatoes, that she had hexed some Muggle family and caused them all to up and leave their house and walk sort of dazed and crazed through the suburb, while she had set up in their house, of course stealing food and using all of their personal belongings because she owned literally nothing. Why was she telling me this? I wanted to know. Good for you, you fucking sadist, I wanted to say, but I can't talk.

Ten minutes later, she was sitting in a reclining chair, smoking a cigarette. She had spelled all the doors shut. "I plan," she said. "To knit you into a scarf! That way, you'll be on my person at all times and by the way, did you know that Dementor Fabric is unique in its silkiness and its deep black hue? I'll be like no other lady once I have this scarf!" she cackled. I wanted to gag.

Sure enough, though, in a week or so, I was no longer my true ghost-like form but rather a scarf around Lestrange's neck. Not creepy enough yet? She literally would spend hours trying on different coats and whispering to me about how the various colors matched or didn't match with my "material" and "hue." It was definitely an all time low, and keep in mind that I had spent 99 percent of my adult life in Azkaban.