A History
A breeze fluttered in through the barred gap, exposing the stone cell to the outside world. It carried the scent of rainfall and ocean salt with it, something he hadn’t appreciated during his time there. The breeze hit him, fluttering the length of dark fabric making up his torso.
Not too far away from where he rested on the floor, thin wired glasses and remains of torn clothes sat discarded in a corner. Harry felt upset when he looked over at them, thus resolutely ignored the offending items.
A nearby sound disturbed his peaceful resting, and Harry would’ve furrowed his brows if he could’ve. His companion seemed to understand what it meant however, as he watched it grow excited above him. A gnarled hand grasped at his shoulder and tugged insistently for him to get up, to follow.
Come, come. We must show you how to feed.
Harry perked up immediately and allowed himself to be pulled along by his companion. He drifted up out of the cell he’d once been confined too and down the desolate halls of the unused floor. He was led down a large gap in the stone floor to somewhere new. The weather wasn’t as harshly apparent, the air more still than what he’d gotten used to. Where his companion had brought him also had other dementors drifting around doing as they pleased.
Harry knew that compared to him, he was far smaller and his body much darker than their dull greyness. When he’d fully transitioned, one of the dementors who’d stayed with him explained that as they matured their bodies changed. To their knowledge they had no age limit, as the oldest had existed since the creation of their first members.
After that lesson had come many more.
***flashback***
He floated a foot away from the other dementor, adjusting seamlessly as if he hadn’t just learnt how to drift through the air like it was water. But he wasn’t paying attention to his adaptability, instead focused on the other’s words.
-Before the creation of us, darkness existed only as shadows and fear. Such instances of congealed darkness resulted in magical creations the wix couldn’t explain. Our cousins, the lethifold, and to an extent wixes obscurials come from such darkness, as do we.
Harry listened with rapt attention, focused solely on his teacher.
All that darkness existed in pockets around the world, feeding off those it encountered to grow and spread, until a particular wix saw it’s power. Ekrizdis utilized the well of darkness, luring and centralizing it to an isolated island. By doing so, the wizard entrenched the surrounding ocean in violence, malevolent storms still hide the island from everything but magic.
How did Ekrizdis make the first dementor? Harry asked, intrigued.
His teacher tilted its head to the side as it thought over it’s response.
None of us truly know, as the first creation of Ekrizdis is rumoured to not have existed long enough to tell their story.
Their was a stagnant pause as Harry mulled this over.
Once Ekrizdis died, the first of us decided that our numbers needed to grow, as the darkness once siphoned into the human was being released from his body and returning to the island. If it were to continue growing as it had been, our discovery would’ve occurred sooner. So, we started with non-magical humans, but their bodies weren’t able to handle the power of the darkness long enough to be remade.
Seeing an opening, Harry pounced on it. That’s how I was remade then? The darkness?
Yes. Was his answer. It is necessary for magic to be present in a soul before darkness is introduced to remake more of us. With time some of us managed to locate other lands and retrieve more humans, wix. Using the souls, we drew the darkness into a vessel, and only when the entirety of the soul was consumed were the wix remade. It takes delicate handling and time, but soon our numbers grew enough to handle the new excess of darkness.
A particular loud rumble of thunder interrupted the lesson, sounding as though the sky itself was breaking itself apart. Harry couldn’t help but guess that it was the darkness hearing their conversation and making itself known.
***flashback over***
He was brought out of his thoughts as a particularly large dementor drifted towards them.
Time for feeding, it spoke, it’s voice deeper than what Harry was used to.
His companion remained behind as he followed his new guide down more halls. However, he noticed something was different. A whimper to his left startled him and Harry turned to see a figure behind bars curled up in a corner. They wore striped clothing and were covered in grime. The bed was little more than a thin mattress with an even thinner blanket.
The sight of it reminded him of how he’d felt when he was first brought to the cell in the forgotten level.
Closer.
Harry turned back to his guide.
Closer?
Yes.
Turning back to the human, Harry drifted nearer to the bars of the cell as instructed. His bony hand touched the harsh metal as he waited, he ignored the frost forming along the bars closest to him.
Lean closer, lean down. Feel for the soul. Listen to it’s whispers.
When he sunk lower to the ground, the human began panicking and clawing at the wall behind them. He was sure that they were yelling, mumbling nonsense in between shouts as he reached out a bony hand.
There it was. He could feel it, like water was brushing against his finger tips. Harry marvelled at the sensation and how it seemed to bring feeling back to his numb skin. His guide must’ve sensed it as well as it continued instructing him.
Call to it, don’t let it slip away from you.
Whispering to the soul at his finger tips, Harry encouraged it to come closer, to rise from its body and reach out for him. Just as he was reaching out for it.
The air shifted in the cell as he practically saw this soul leave it’s body. It rose upward and an invisible wind pushed it toward him. His guide was silent as the soul was pulled in and finally consumed.
There was no taste, just a slight warmth as the soul travelled down his throat. Harry paused for a moment to see if he felt any different, and he did. It was as if he’d taken an energizing nap.
Good. His guide praised from behind him. You already lighten.
After releasing the bars and drifting back to his previous height, Harry glanced down at himself. There wasn’t any obvious change, his robes were still the same length and just as worn as before, he couldn’t tell if he’d lightened or not, but he trusted his guide.
What do we do now? He asked.
Wander. His guide answered. In time you’ll feel the darkness, and with experience you’ll know when it needs to be controlled. ‘Till then, don’t leave the island.
The storm outside shook the stone around them, and Harry got the distinct feeling that the island had won. He was now a dementor.