Harry Potter is property of JK Rowling. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to bring happiness to other fans. And my pockets don´t want anything in return. Thanks.
Warning: This story contains yaoi, it means love between men. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and sex related scenes.
Summary: When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.
Note: Little by little this keeps going; maybe someday I will finish it. ^^ Special thanks for you, yoaifanfake for cheering me up. ;) And don´t worry vampira 612 I´m just editing the fic. ^^
I present:
The Dementor Kiss
Chapter 3 – Soft
They would have to make life in Azkaban until they managed to find the elusive blonde.
Living in the cold and wet guard rooms of Azkaban. "Yippy."
The barely hot dinner served in the guard room, didn´t look too appealing.
After all, their food and that of the prisoners came from the same kitchen. And while the dinner the prison elves brought for them, was substantially better, it was still rather... poor.
Soup with more salt than was needed, and something that Harry thought was supposed to have been a poor chicken at some point, before becoming charcoal. He hadn't thought it possible, but this showed that a house-elf could, effectively, have no idea of cooking.
"Can we start eating?" - Henry was eager to sink his teeth in the food, being accustomed to it already and hungry since he hadn´t eaten since breakfast.
"Aren´t we going to wait for your partner?" - Asked Ron, as they sat at the table and began to pour some soup in their plates.
"Tomas has decided to dine in his room. He doesn't feel comfortable among strangers." Henry smiled apologetically, as he took a rickety piece of poultry for himself.
"It's okay." - Harry sipped a spoonful of soup trying not to grimace. During the war they had had worse to eat, after all. But… even so, he couldn´t stop the image of Kreachers abandoned pancakes, from appearing in his mind.
He tried thinking about something else.
"By the way, Hermione, since you are going to the ministry tomorrow, could you stop by my house and ask Kreacher to throw me a suitcase for a couple of days? We would have to stay here until Malfoy is found."
Mione nodded.
"Sure, no problem. Do you want for me to visit your house too, Ron?"
"It will be better. Could you advise mom that I'll be out for a few days, right?" Hermione made an affirmative gesture with a hand, while trying to take a nip out of her burned chicken slice. A rather challenging exercise, since it was hard as a rock. But she managed somewhat.
The rest of the dinner was held peacefully. The dirty dishes disappeared in their way to the kitchen, and the Aurors were left with Henry, trying to settle in the living room floor.
"I'm sorry you have to sleep here. We have only a couple of guard rooms, and the ones that actually can be used are already occupied." - Henry felt terrible, making the heroes of the wizarding world sleep on the floor.
But when he offered to leave them his room, the aurors had rejected his proposal, saying that they had already slept in worse places than the guards rest room. Even so, he couldn´t stop the little guilty feeling inside.
The elves had brought three of the free pallets of the prisoners, but they weren't what one would call soft and comfortable. Though their thickness protected them from the cold stone floor, which was something.
They put them near the fireplace to be warmer at night, and where dressing them with some blankets, when Ron looked at the old clock hanging on the wall.
"It's time for my watch. -His smile stretched cruelly- We will see if I can hunt a ferret."- His knuckles cracked like preparing for it.
Hermione chose to turn a deaf ear to the comment. Really, if their friend persisted in behaving like a child, she wasn´t going to be correcting him all the time like she was his mother, or something equally bothersome. There were more pressing matters to attend to.
"Good luck." - Said Harry. And Ron, accompanied by Henry, raised his thumb in reply, in his way to the kitchen.
Once alone, Harry and Hermione took off their coats to go to bed, but not before throwing a couple of detector spells. Malfoy wasn't likely to come near the guard rooms, but desperate people made crazy things, and it was better to be prepared. They wrapped themselves with the clean, yet old and worn blankets that the elves had provided. It seemed that everything in Azkaban was dying, even the blankets. And tried to sleep.
-Good night, Harry. Nox. - She muttered, turning off the lights.
-Good night, Hermione.
It was going to be a long night.
It had been an hour since they had lain down.
And Harry could hear the quiet breathing of Hermione, coming from the pallet beside him. Sleeping soundly. But he couldn't seem to sleep.
Finally, taking the hint that the nap he was waiting for, was unlikely to come in the next few minutes, Harry sighed to himself. - "If I'm not going to sleep, I should be doing something useful at least."
Quietly, the auror got rid of the blankets in which he was graphed, retrieved his coat and shoes, and left the room closing carefully the door in his wake. Not wanting to wake his friend.
The dark hallway lit by torches, silent, damp, didn´t look much different at night. Especially since there weren't any windows, to let the moon light make any difference. The lighting never changed here. Only the drop in the temperature, and the lower number of laments, could reveal that, in fact, it was night.
A shudder shook his frame:
"So cold." – He muttered, throwing his coat the heat spell that he hadn't conjured that morning.
For a moment he thought in going to the kitchen with Ron, but he didn´t want to listen to his best friend's constant hate chat about Malfoy. If he went, he would surely end up with a headache.
"I can always re-register the cell." - He said to himself. Surely he wouldn't find anything new, but at least he would be doing something.
The vision of the small, dirty room, dimly lighted by the torches of the hall was depressing. How could have someone like Malfoy survive in such a place? He tried to imagine the proud Slytherin freezing cold, sitting on the damp stone floor, dirty, hungry. The vision made him nauseous. It reminded him too much of Sirius.
He looked at the other inmates of the hall and had to grit his teeth.
"No, they deserve it. They are here for their crimes" He made himself deaf to the voice telling him that Sirius had been innocent. "This has been a bad idea, I have better go back and try to grab some sleep" He started to walk back…
A sound, a whisper, put Harry on alert.
In a moment he was seeking refuge in the shadows, hiding. Crouching slightly, trying to make as little noise as possible.
"Malfoy?"
He tried sneaking up on the source of the faint murmur. Not hearing anything else, not the pleas of the prisoners, not their unconnected babbling, just that whisper... He recognized it a moment lather. A Dementor. Did they guard Azkaban so late in the night? Well, it wasn´t like Dementors needed to rest. Did they? He thought about asking Hermione about it.
The truth was he never had bothered to find out anything about the Dementors, beyond how to defeat them. A thing he now regretted, and that he regretted even more when he looked out of the corner cautiously... and found out who was the Dementor in there.
Motionless, before a cell, there was him.
The torchlight shone faintly in his robe, its paleness making him look even more delicate, than he had thought when he saw him on the roof.
The little white couldn´t go much beyond Harry's shoulders in height. And he could see that under the cloth, his body was really slender, very thin. But from his hiding place he couldn't look at who was hiding underneath the hood. His head was bowed seeming to look into the small space with something like... melancholy?
A curious tongue of intrigue curled itself around Harry.
And in impulse the auror decided to leave the corner, exposing himself. What harm could it do? It wasn't as if he couldn't defend himself against a Dementor. Just in case he reached into his pocket and grabbed his wand, but didn't remove it from his coat. He didn't want to look threatening.
The Dementor caught the movement not a second lather, and turned to face him. Harry saw very clearly, how the creature went tense as a bowstring the instant he saw him. How the small shoulders tensed and stepped back, like he was going to run away any minute now.
"Wait!"
The Dementor stopped hesitantly.
"I will not hurt you." - How ridiculous sounded that? By God, he couldn´t even understand his words. Could he? He had stopped after all. Could it be that ... he tried to make his voice as smooth and calm as possible.
"Are you the Dementor Lord?" - This seemed to make the white shudder.
But when he didn't take another step back, the Auror came nearer. Until Harry had him almost within arm reach… reached out…
The Dementor was started by the movement.
Harry stretched out just as the creature began to walk away. His fingers brushing the like a wisp of fog coat, before the creature started running, the pale appearance disappearing around the corner.
"So soft…" - looking surprised at his hand, Harry couldn´t stop the whisper from leaving his lips.
He had never touched a Dementor, and now that he had, just one thought plagued his head.
Soft. He was so soft. Couldn't be compared to anything he had touched before. It was cold, tingling in the fingers, almost intangible so smooth it was.
"I have to talk to Hermione."
When he came back to the guard room Hermione was still asleep and it was almost time for his call. Not much lather Ron entered the door, yawning, and eager for some sleep.
"Henry waits you in the kitchen." – The sleepy red head said, giving Harry a piece of paper on which the guard had drawn a little map, before hanging his coat from the hook on the wall.
"Thanks Ron." - He put the paper in his pocket.
"Agggh, stills no sign of him. It's incredible." - Ron ruffled his hair frustrated, as if the thought itched him. Harry could not help smiling at it.
"You didn't really believe, he was going to appear before you, and get himself caught, did you?"
His friend snorted indignantly, getting into the mattress. Harry had to turn around to keep from laughing.
"See you at breakfast." - The only answer was a muffled groan, from under some ratty pillow. Finally allowing himself a smile, Harry went the kitchens way; it was now his turn to guard the place, just to see if they were able to catch the elusive ferret. Or even a glimpse of their prey.
Hours passed slowly with nothing more interesting than poor Henrys conversation. Apparently, he wanted to hear first-hand the story of the end of the war. And since it was something Harry hated talking about, they were left with little more to say.
He thought asking about the white Dementor, but dismissed the idea; he didn't want to explain his reasons to a stranger, not when he had a friend with much more knowledge than the guard.
When it came time to swift turns again, it didn't cost him too much to convince Henry that he should return and take some rest.
He would partner with Hermione.
"Good night. "- greeted his friend.
Hermione's hair was dishevelled after sleeping, looking like a nest of mice. Her wrinkled clothes, which she had slept with, and her tired face, made her look like some kind of ghost.
Harry didn´t look much better, starting with his sleep deprived eyes, his wrinkled clothes and his hair... well, his hair was impossible to comb even at the best of times, so it really didn't matter too much if it looked more than rumbled.
Harry took another sip from the cup of coffee he had taken from the kitchen.
"Good night Hermione. Did you sleep well?" – He handed her another cup of coffee.
"Thanks." – Mione took the cup tiredly- "I haven't slept very well, but it doesn't matter.-She waved her hand in dismissal, not really bothered by it. Accustomed as she was, with the kind of work they had every other day- Well, are you going to tell me what's in your head, or no?" – And arched her eyebrow, taking a casual ship from the old cup.
Harry smiled; sometimes Hermione was able to read him to perfection.
"Should have known you would realize something was amiss.
"It isn't hard to see that you want to talk about something. Since you and Ron are so heavy sleepers, there must be some good reason for you to want to stay and keep me company, instead of going to bed. Well what´s it?" – Her friend stared into the darkness of the hallway, something running inside his head.
"Hermione, What do you know about Dementors?" - Asked without looking her way.
"More or less, the same you do. Why do you ask?"
"Just before we meet again in the guard resting room, a now not a couple hours ago ... I saw a white Dementor. Isn´t it weird? White?" – He looked at her expectantly, needing to know.
Hermione bit her lip in concentration, trying to remember anything she could have read about something like that.
"As far as I know, there isn't any white Dementor. But as I said, I don't know much about them. I could look in the library…"- "Um ... white dementors." Quickly her head was cataloguing the books she knew that might be useful.
"Thank you Hermione."
"He had some other unique characteristic?"
"I think he understood me. At one point, when I asked him to stop, he reacted as if he knew what I was saying."
"Maybe he was the Lord Dementor." - Different, not only in colour, but also able to understand humans. He had a good chance at being the one and only Lord. Iif he really had understood and not reacted out of instinct.
"I've thought it. But he seemed so fragile…, I mean, the Dementor Lord is not the most powerful Dementor of Azkaban? He seemed like the wind could take his body away, so thin he looked."
"Appearances can be deceiving." – She retorted.
Harry nodded, not entirely convinced.
"I guess we'll know in the morning."
They continued sipping coffee.
Harry, Ron and Henry were finishing preparing to go see the Dementor Lord, when finally, Hermione stood before the fireplace ready to go to the ministry.
"Write down anything important he tells you, I what to know everything when I return." – She insisted for the tenth time that morning.
"Yesss"- The two friends replied wearily. But when she opened her mouth to say something more, Ron couldn't take it anymore.
"Can´t you go already? If it's necessary I will let you see my memories, but for Merlin, go!"
Hermione glared at him.
"Do not talk to me like that Ron Weasley!
"Enough! Nothing is going to escape our notice Mione, now please; if you don't hurry you will end up without time left for all you have to do."- Harry was in as much a hurry to go and talk to the Lord Dementor, as his male best friend, but he respect his female one much more than Ron seemed capable of mustering.
The curly haired Auror looked at the old clock, and finally decided to take her leave.
"Okay. Have a nice day. Ministry of magic!" – She shouted and disappeared trough the heart, inside a green puff of smoke.
"We're going or what?" -The redhead was already at the door. Henry put his keys in his pocket and swallowed, preparing for what awaited them, he never liked having to talk to this creature, but this was an emergency, so...
"Well, let's go then."
Henry led the way, with Ron and Harry a couple of steps behind.
They had long since left the cells behind, moving to an area of labyrinthine bare rock corridors. The torches started becoming increasingly scarce until they had to light their wands to see in the dark.
Despite knowing it was morning, Harry was feeling like in the middle of a very cold, winter, moonless, night.
The temperature dropped as they advanced, until even under the magical warm spell they could feel the cold. The only sounds were the steps of the three of them, their breathing, a drop of water hitting the ground in some stone corner... Soon, they began to see signs of the elves fear to the Dementors. Must have passed years, since one of them dared to approach the place.
The floor was covered with a thick layer of dust, thick cobwebs hanged from the ceilings, the air reeked of old and dead things. Then, moments later, they began to feel it too, the oppressive feeling that indicated the proximity of one of them. The murmur of the survival instinct that prompts you to run.
Fear.
Harry clenched his jaw and fought the impulse, sinking it so deep in his subconscious that his presence was easily ignored. He gave thanks for the hard training received, which enabled him to withstand this kind of mental pressure without so much as a tingling.
Finally the light of their wands lit something ahead of them. They went closer, and Harry and Ron saw what couldn´t be anything other than the entrance of the tower. A large, old dark wooden with rusty metal bands, door.
Henry sighed squaring his shoulders, and took the knocker in hand.
"Try to be respectful." He admonished before calling.
They held their breath while Henry hit the wall, the sound, in contrast to the deathly silence of the place, seemed to spread through the corridors like the touch of a funeral bell. And when the sound died, the creaking of the door caused the three of them to stare at it nearly mesmerized.
Harry watched as the door opened and the creature on the other side came to light, his heart beating furiously inside his chest.
Ragged clothes dragged the dust in his wake, whispering like a ghost. A feeling of terror flooded Harry brutally for a moment, making him tremble before being able to contain it with great difficulty. He noted that Ron had taken a step backward with eyes open in terror, and Henry swallowed noisily.
Before them, dark as the deepest of nights, terrible and powerful, was the Dementor Lord.
Continue.
(In the next chapter Draco)