Chapter 3
A/N : I know that my chapters had been ridiculously short so far. Hope this one is an improvement!
Harry slowly opened his eyes ; it felt like centuries since he last woke up. Yet, the sky was still dark, even if he could see the sun peeking through. He was still there, lieing under his invisibility coat, at the root of the tree. Harry frowned ; everything was blury. He reached his round shaped glasses ; his arm almost felt lifeless. He took his glasses off and blinked in disbelief. He could see perfectly, even better than he remembered in the dark. Puzzled, he tried to sit up, ignoring the pain each moves caused. He winced, gritting his teeth : the last thing he could remember was the dementor's kiss. His eyes darted around, uneasily, before he felt his blood leave his face. There was a dementor floating right in front of him ….but he didn't feel anything….Why are they not affecting me? I don't feel the cold…I don't hear the screams…
"What…what the hell?" He breathed out. His throat was hoarse and painful.
"Greetings, Master Tormentor" The dementor rattled, before gliding to him gracefully. Harry gaped at him, shocked. How could this be? It looks like he understands and speak the dementor language.
"What? Excuse me?" Harry sputtered, unable to correctly word his emotions. "I can talk to you!"
"I called you master Tormentor, because it is what you are now" the dementor spoke out. Harry's brow furrowed, not knowing what to think of this.
"What happened?" He blurted out.
"One of our kind tried to take your soul away, Tormentor. But there was a bond within you so strong that your soul refused to leave your body. Instead, you took in the essence of my brother and it is now attached to your soul" The dementor explained. To say that Harry was stunned was an understatement. He tried to let the information sink in. What was he now? A human dementor?
"Why do you think, I mean errrr why was my soul so attached to my body? I never knew that one could survive the kiss…" Harry asked, scratching his forehead.
"I am not sure, master Tormentor." The dementor rasped out. "I have heard only of two humans who ever did so. And it was such a long time ago – centuries! They are almost legends among out kind. We believe that only one of exceptional willpower can resist the kiss"
Harry's thoughts focused on a memory…when the fake Moody tried to imperio him in his fourth year. Yes, he was able to resist the imperio curse. It was because of his mental willpower. Harry gazed up to the hooded blackness:
"Why do you call me tormentor? I mean, what IS a tormentor?" Harry asked, confusedly.
"It is the way we call you in our tradition, because you are no longer a human. You gained some of our characteristics. I believe that you will inflict fear and distress to whom you wish to, unlike us. But you will also be unable to control it if you let negativity – anger and hatred – reign over you. You can consume souls …just like us…but you will not fear patronuses " The dementor elaborated. Harry was flabbergasted for a while, before he mulled over the information he had received. He felt a little nauseated about the last information.
"You will also be able to melt in the shadows, master Tormentor…" The hooded figure continued. Harry's head shot up, anxiousness written all over his face.
"What do you mean, melt in the shadows?"
"You can become invisible in places or time when the sun no longer reigns. At will"
Harry's train of thought abruptly stopped at that statement. This might become handy…really handy. But fear overtook Harry's mind ; will his personality be affected by this new development? And his physical appearance? He didn't want to look like a dementor. Suddenly, the dementor held his face with it's bony hands and stared at him.
"This is strange….you look….the same" The dementor whispered out. Oh I'm very glad I do – Harry thought sarcastically.
" Thank you for your time, master dementor. But I am afraid I must take my leave before the city gets overcrowded" Harry saluted the dementor.
"Before leaving, master tormentor, please accept this humble present. It belonged to my brother" The dementor held out a black hooded cloak of long ripped out cloth. A dementor's cloak. Harry took it, gratefully – who knows when it might get helpful.
"Thank you, master dementor…oh, what is your name?" Harry inquired
"I am called by my brethren Mawulrik. I must go also, master tormentor. I bid you a nice day" The dementor said before gliding away.
Harry letted out a sight. Yup, normalcy…indeed. He opened his trunk and folded the cloak. He must think about getting a new wand…and train wandless magic. After all, the ministry's tracking spell is set on each formally made wands. He could use wandless magic without being tracked.
So it was with determination that Harry walked out of the park. He needs to find a muggle hotel or inn for now – cheap one. He didn't have much muggle money on him and didn't want to stay at the Leaky Cauldron – anyone would spot him then. So he walked for a while under his invisibility coat, pulling his heavy trunk around, randomly bumping into muggles at times.
What the fuck am I doing? Harry thought, making sure no muggles were around before he pulled his invisibility coat off. He waved at a cab, and the car stopped in front of him. Harry sat, before pulling his trunk in.
"Good Morning"
"Good Morning sir, where can I bring you?" The cab driver turned around and smiled at him.
"Do you know any inns or cheap hotels near Charing Cross Road?" Harry exquired. The driver mumbled for a while, obviously concentrating on his memory
"Ah yes, there's this quite decent one. Called Sherlock's Inn. Pretty cheap actually, something around 10 pounds a night" He replied.
"Off we go then" Harry declared, joyfully. Twenty minutes later, the cab stopped nearby a wooden entry door. The word's "Sherlock's Inn" was engraved on it.
"It's 25 pounds, sir". Harry handed the money to the driver. "Keep the change". The driver beamed at him before thanking him and wishing him a good day. Harry stood in front of the entry door, staring at the victorian façade, before grabbing the rusty doorknob and entering.
Smoke, beer and loud conversations were Harry's first impression. Apparently the first floor served as a pub, and a simingly popular one. It was overcrowded by a male population, discussing politics and football scores. Harry approached the counter, where a young man was standing and making coktails.
"What may I do for you sir?" The smiling young man's eyes fixed Harry's own.
"I'd like to get a room" Harry replied. "Until tomorrow evening" Harry continued, guessing the man's unworded question.
"We have exactly everything you need sir. You'll pay upon check out. Breakfast included…Here are the keys". The man handed him a key where was written a number "9". "Room number nine is on the first floor, right on your left." Harry nodded and thanked the man before turning towards the flight of stairs.
"Oh sir you can leave your trunk here, I'll have somebody bring it up for you. By the way what is your name?". Harry hesitated, before answering.
"Harold…Harold Preston"
"Pleasure, sir" The barman smiled. "I'm Alistair". Harry grinned at the man before climbing up the stairs.
Room number 9 was a nice, cosy looking little room. Obviously clean, with simple furnitures : one single bed covered with white sheets,a night table, a wardrobe. Harry took his shoes off and waited for his luggages. Harry glanced at the clock : It was 7:30 am. Harry thought that some sleep wouldn't do any bad, so he took off his pants and glided under the covers.