Dementors Are Kissable
"Albus!" Madam Bones strode briskly from her office when she spotted the Deputy Headmaster through the open door. "I take it that you're here about Miss Summers?"
Dumbledore waited for her to reach him before answering. "I am indeed. How is she?"
"Come and see for yourself," the nurse replied. She marched along the row of beds and paused by the first they came to with curtains drawn around it. "My only other patient is a Hufflepuff. He bought a potion from an unlicensed trader in Knockturn Alley, which supposedly was Felix Felicis. Needless to say, it was not."
"Oh, dear," Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow. "Is it... very bad?"
"Och, no. The effects are already starting to fade. I have no doubt that by morning the whiskers will have gone and the hair moulted out. I've given him a general sedative and something to help with the itching."
The nurse moved on to the next occupied bed. Pulling the curtain aside, she revealed Buffy Summers lying unconscious, her arms above the covers and hands neatly placed at her sides. Both professor and nurse stepped into the space, allowing the curtain to close behind them.
"Not awake yet," murmured Dumbledore, feeling disappointed. "How bad is she?"
Madam Bones cast a Diagnostic Charm. Above Buffy's bed a spiral of golden runes appeared, slowly rotating in mid-air.
The nurse spun the runes to show the professor the sequencing. "As you can see, there are no physical injuries. However, the runes show she is suffering from the type of exhaustion typical of a Dementor assault. See this?" Her wand stopped the moving spiral, pointing to a group of runes with the tip of her wand. "This is the set of runes I told you about. It is my belief someone tried to bind the girl's magic when she was a baby." Her face became stern. "A despicable act. Whoever did it deserves a life sentence in Azkaban."
"Hmm?" Dumbledore replied, feeling uncomfortable. "Now that you mention it, I did check her health records. None of the healers at St Mungo's thought those runes signified a magical binding; the report suggest an old Protection Spell."
Madam Bones looked affronted. "I can see, what I can see!"
"Is there more you'd like to show me?" he quickly asked. Madam Bones was right, and the healers had been wrong. Buffy's magic had been bound as a baby, but neither he nor Joyce wanted the Ministry investigating the matter. Secrets of the past were better off left buried in the past. They'd both made a mistake, and now they had to live with the consequences.
Seeking to distract the nurse – who looked ready to argue – he pointed to a rune that seemed to glow more than the others. Dumbledore knew it signified emptiness. In this placement, it stated the body was empty of food and hungry. He deliberately misinterpreted it. "Has Buffy lost her soul?"
That got the nurse's attention. "In this case, it is more like the body's need for fuel," she replied, as he'd known she would. "I've seen the result of a Dementor's Kiss during my training at St Mungo's. The runes were very different to Buffy's. However, we can't be too complacent; and until Buffy awakens, we won't know how badly the encounter has affected her." She tutted and shook her head. "To think this happened to a student at Hogwarts! Whatever will her mother think? I sincerely hope the Headmaster is testing the school wards, so this never happens again!"
"He is," soothed Dumbledore. He'd left the Headmaster doing just that. "The Dementor is now safely confined and I'm sure this is simply a freak incident."
"Let us hope so, Albus!" Madam Bones huffed. "I don't want to see my infirmary filled with students who have had run-ins with Dementors."
"I wonder why Buffy didn't summon her Patronus?" Dumbledore mused. "It wasn't as if she is unable to cast one."
In the heat of the attack, had she forgotten her magic? Dumbledore knew that he would never forget about magic. His ability to conjure up a spell without a moment's warning was partly what made him so powerful and lethal.
Madam Bones flicked her wand, sending the diagnostic spiral spinning and examining the runes again for any changes, "Buffy's magic is new to her, perhaps it never occurred to her."
Dumbledore nodded. "Possibly. And then the Dementor somehow became entangled on her broom."
"Entangled on?" the nurse repeated, frowning at his choice of words. "Not entangled with?" She flicked away the hovering runes with her wand.
"Impaled, might be a better word. It had a broom handle stuck through its chest."
"How strange!" The nurse's attention was on her potions trolley, rechecking its contents. "Where have I put my blood replenishing potion? I had it not five minutes ago."
Dumbledore took advantage of the nurse's distraction to stare intently at Buffy. He ran his eyes over her face, taking in her high cheekbones, the curve of her upper lip, the shape of her face, and drew comparisons. There was a strong resemblance to the Lovegoods in her features, but it was the genes she'd gotten from him that interested him most of all.
"Could Buffy have accidentally flown into it?" the nurse asked. She was tutting to herself as she methodically searched each of her pockets in turn.
"Possibly." Dumbledore continued staring at Buffy. This was the first time he'd been able to examine her features so closely. If he'd done it while she was awake, he was certain that Buffy would have made some sarcastic comment to fluster him. She always had a glib reply on that tongue of hers, something she had inherited from her father.
The nurse found the vial she'd been looking for and placed it onto the potions trolley. She turned to address Dumbledore once more. "What do you think? Do you think Buffy could have unintentionally flown into it?"
"Well, the fog was very thick. If a Dementor appeared in front of you without warning, you might easily fly into it." In Buffy's case, he thought it highly unlikely. He'd seen for himself her speed and sharp reflexes during the tryout. What happened up there?
The nurse chuckled. "Maybe they'll need to reprint the DADA books with a new amendment. Two ways of fending off a Dementor: 1, summon a Patronus or 2, impale it on your broom."
Dumbledore didn't return the smile. How had Buffy managed to impale a non-being and then force it through the castle wards? And what was a Dementor doing hunting above Hogwarts in the first place? What had attracted it? All questions he'd like the answers to and so would the people from The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Beasts.
That reminded him, Madam Bones needed warning. "A note has been sent to the Ministry," he said in an even voice. "Someone from the relevant department will collect the Dementor before breakfast tomorrow morning. Someone else will speak to the Headmaster and myself to make a report. No doubt they'll come up here wanting to question Buffy."
Nurse Bones stopped smoothing down the already crease-less sheet cover on Buffy's bed and straightened up with a frown. "Only with my permission, Albus."
She moved away from Buffy's bed, making sure he was following her. Was she worried he'd cast a Reviving spell and interrogate Buffy without her say so?
"No one speaks to my patients unless I agree to let them. I don't care who they are!" she continued.
Dumbledore nodded, admiring the woman's determination to protect her charges if feeling a little frustrated by it. He'd wanted to question Buffy himself – now he'd need to leave and come back later in the day.
"Hopefully, tomorrow she'll be awake and ready to talk to them," he replied. He hoped the papers wouldn't get hold of this story. Dippet would be easily swayed. The last thing he needed was journalists crawling around the castle and Buffy's picture appearing on the front of the Daily Prophet. If he found out she was here, there was no telling what he'd do.
At the door of the infirmary he stopped as another thought occurred to him. "I take it, the boys who brought her here were polite?" He'd tasked Tom with looking after Buffy, and had been disappointed to see his instructions ignored. Tom had delegated the job of carrying her to Caradoc. Dumbledore thought it typical of a Slytherin to avoid the hard work and instead order others around.
"Yes. Caradoc is a sweet boy. He was very careful with her and did everything exactly as I told him."
Dumbledore beamed. Caradoc was already well-liked by both his peers and his professors. If that continued, he'd be a contender for the position of Head Boy.
Madam Bones sniffed. "Which is more than can be said for his companion..."
Dumbledore turned concerned eyes on the nurse. So Tom Riddle had finally shown his true colours, had he? Why Slughorn couldn't see through the boy's act, he'd never know. With true sincerity he said, "I'm sorry to hear it, Hazel. What did he do?"
"It was the way he went on! I'm surprised the boy never caused a fight with what he said! How the others held their temper, I don't know."
"A fight?" Dumbledore needed to relay what Riddle had done to Slughorn! Enough was enough. Horace would need to take responsibility, stop being so soft-hearted with the boy, and punish Riddle.
"I mean... How does quoting Shakespeare help anyone?"
Dumbledore blinked. "Tom Riddle quoted Shakespeare?"
Madam Bones gave him a look that suggested his mind was wandering. "Not Tom! That other Gryffindor you sent along with them. There was poor Buffy lying still and cold, two distraught boys who'd seen her fall, and he begins quoting the death scene from Romeo and Juliet. Phrases like 'arms take your last embrace', and 'doors of death, seal with a righteous kiss' were in no way helpful! In fact, it's downright disrespectful, and you can be sure I told him so before sending him out the room!"
"Lancelot Lockhart," Dumbledore mumbled, feeling discombobulated. "I thought we were talking of Tom Riddle."
The look she gave him was now scornful. "Oh, Albus! That's harsh of you. Just because he's a Slytherin doesn't mean he should be judged so negatively," she exclaimed, wagging an admonishing finger under his nose. "I've met Tom before. At one stage he was always bringing his friends in, seeking a counter-hex or treatment for a spell gone wrong. I've always found him to be a polite boy. He even asked if he might come to the infirmary and help. He says he wishes to gain knowledge of the anatomy and learn how to find a pulse."
The nurse went a little pink, making Dumbledore wonder if Riddle had used his charming smile on her to get his own way. Inwardly, he sighed. Why did people fall for such obvious flummery? Didn't they realise that bad people could be as handsome and charming as good ones – more so, even?
Madam Bones continued, "That poor boy," she shook her head. "An orphan with no parents to teach him right from wrong, yet has better manners than many here. He was so concerned about Buffy. You should have heard how he stammered his words when asking if she'd completely heal from the encounter. He could hardly take his eyes off her, and didn't want to leave. I believe he's found the witch for him. They'd make a lovely couple, him being so dark and she so fair."
Dumbledore tried not to shudder. The thought of the two of those two conspiring together made him feel distinctly uneasy.
A noise had Madam Bones looking over her shoulder. "Did you hear that?"
Dumbledore nodded. Was it Buffy waking? Or the unlucky Hufflepuff scratching at his fur?
"Hey! Stop! Stop that!" Buffy cried. "Go away! I don't want you kissing me! Ptagh! Ugh, get off!"
"Excuse me, Albus," Madam Bones called over her shoulder as she hurried away. "I must see to my patient. It sounds as if the poor girl is waking from a nightmare." Dumbledore heard her muttering to herself, "Chocolate first, then a good meal. Where is that elf with the tray?"
He'd intended to leave. Instead, Dumbledore crept back into the infirmary. Conversations between a healer and patient were confidential, but he wanted to hear exactly what Buffy told the nurse on waking.
…
Something was butting at her face.
Buffy opened her eyes to see a round, dark eye staring at her from close range. She let out an involuntary gasp and the eye backed away. It became two eyes, then a face, and then a puffer fish-shaped body came into view. Before she had a chance to say 'Spikey', the little boggart flew back at her face with puckered lips.
"Hey! Stop! Stop that!" Buffy cried. The boggart continued pecking at her face with wet lips. "Go away! I don't want you kissing me!"
Its lips were ice-cold on her face. And Spikey was not a good kisser. "Ptagh!" she spat, wiping her face with one hand and swatting at the boggart with the other. "Ugh, get off!"
Spikey flew up towards the vaulted ceiling, doing backflips as he went and not looking at all chastened.
"I'm guessing that me being alive makes you happy." The last thing she remembered was two Dementors grasping for her, their mouths open as they tried to suck out her soul. Buffy supposed she should be grateful, at least she hadn't been forced to listen to their choice of music and share a bedroom with them. And talking of bedrooms... This one was definitely not hers.
She was in the Hogwarts' infirmary. Even if she hadn't been here before, she'd have known what this place was. It had that same smell – the same smell every hospital she'd ever been in, and then there was the ugly metal bed. That was another big giveaway.
"What happened up there with the Dementors?" she whispered to Spikey. Not that she expected the boggart to know.
To her surprise, the little boggart began to act out a scene for her. First, he transformed himself into a miniature Dementor, its hands outstretched as it glided towards her.
"You saw the Dementors attack me?" she asked. That was a surprise – Spikey preferred to be inside and disliked open spaces.
Spikey changed back into his boggart form. He nodded in answer to her question and looked angry. He changed again. This time becoming something wispy that looked just like a non-corporeal Patronus.
Buffy's brows drew together. "You pretended to be a Patronus and saved me from the Dementors?"
Spikey changed back, nodded, and looked smug.
"Way to go, Spikey the Dementor Scarer."
The boggart puffed up with air and self-importance. He rose into the air and Buffy let out a laugh as he suddenly released the air from his mouth. Spikey shot backwards, flying dementedly around the space like a balloon deflating. He came to a stop near her face, butting her again gently before shooting away and hiding beneath the bed.
It was just in time, for a second later the curtains moved and Madam Bones, the school nurse, appeared.
…...