The Little Dementor | Harry Potter

Chapter Three

Moving fast and light to the far end of Azkaban where his son had been confined to for years, the little dementor's father had to get there quickly because he was sure his son didn't have much longer until he died.

He had pulled some strings with the elders, if his son would feed off of a human's happiness, his ban to the most outer parts of Azkaban would be lifted. And father and son could once again be united.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When the little dementor saw something flying in the distance towards him, he thought his prayers had finally been answered. But he was sorely mistaken.

The little dementor's father asked his son to leave with him. What his father didn't add, was where they were going or what they were doing, for he knew if he mentioned anything about stealing happiness his son would automatically refuse. Like a refrigerator refusing to turn on its light when the door is closed.

The little dementor agreed to go with his father when he asked. The little dementor wasn't doing well and he didn't feel like arguing.

The little dementor was taken by his father to the underside of a bridge in Little Whinging. There were two boys underneath this bridge, one tall and very pudgy, the other a skinny boy wearing glasses.

"Feed off of one of them," his father pleaded. "If you don't, you'll die in the outer most parts of Azkaban."

The little dementor crossed his arms. "No, I didn't then, and I still won't now." The little dementor said putting as much strength as he could muster into his words.

"I'll even demonstrate how it's done. Please listen, you'll die if you don't eat." His father said not wanting his son and wife to be dead.

The little dementor gave him a look as if he should just save his breath. But his father did quite the opposite of saving his breath.

His father was getting desperate. He started to feed off of what little happiness the fat child had. What he wasn't expecting, was for his son to pull him away with all the strength he had left and also for the the skinny boy to pull out a wand and yell, "Expecto Patronum!"

The older dementor was thrown back, caught off guard. He quickly grabbed ahold of his son's hand and flew off back to Azkaban, for he knew his son stood firmly in his protest of not eating happiness and it would never change.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

"If you're not going to feed off of the happiness of the humans, then you're not coming back and you're going to die alone." His father said, disappointment still clear in his tone of voice. He then parted ways with his son, heading back to Azkaban. But as he slowly flew off back to Azkaban, he could have sworn he felt...something. Was it sadness? No, dementors don't have emotions, he just hadn't eaten a soul since this morning.

The little dementor did not answer his father, for he had nothing to say and even if he did, he was to weak to speak it aloud. His head was spinning, and yet, it was in the same place. His chest started to tighten and his appendages went numb. His vision was failing. And it felt as if he was falling, breaking into a million pieces.

The little dementor slowly faded away.
'Til all that was left of him, was dust.

the end

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

A/N:

Wait! Before you exit this book this isn't the last chapter. There's one more.