0396 The Dementors

The Dementors, those infamous and terrifying guards of Azkaban prison, have long been a source of everlasting fear in the wizarding world. These emotionless, wraith-like creatures are known to strike dread into the hearts of even the bravest souls who speak their name. With their ability to drain happiness and pleasant memories from the minds of their victims, they leave nothing but hollowed shells devoid of joy or hope. Dementors represent the very essence of despair.

What’s more terrifying is that these monsters seem to have no weakness. While the Patronus Charm can temporarily repel them, no known magic has ever succeeded in permanently destroying a Dementor. This chilling fact has led many to believe that these creatures are truly immortal, existing beyond the boundaries of life and death.

The Ministry of Magic’s decision to employ these nightmarish beings as guards at Azkaban has been a constant source of controversy and criticism. Many argue that subjecting prisoners, regardless of their crimes, to the despairing presence of Dementors is cruel and inhumane. However, supporters of the Ministry’s policy point out an undeniable truth: the threat of Dementor serves as a powerful deterrent to evil-doers throughout the Wizarding community.

In this tense atmosphere, Rowena Ravenclaw was attempting to destroy these fearsome beings. Even Sirius could easily discern Ravenclaw’s intentions. His hatred for Dementors ran deep, and upon realizing Ravenclaw’s intentions, Sirius momentarily forgot his fear of revisiting this place. A spark of anticipation ignited in Sirius’s eyes, a glimmer of hope that perhaps these tormentors could finally be vanquished.

But suddenly, an angry shout shattered the oppressive silence, startling Sirius out of his hopeful reverie. The source of this unexpected outburst was none other than Bryan.

Sirius had never seen Bryan in such a state before. The young man’s usually handsome features were twisted into a mask of rage, his eyes blazing with an intensity that bordered on madness. With a swift, decisive motion, Bryan raised his wand, pointing it directly at Ravenclaw ordering her to stop in a harsh voice.

Utterly bewildered by this sudden turn of events, Sirius found himself questioning Bryan’s sanity.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing, Bryan?” he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern.

The situation made no sense to Sirius. According to Bryan’s earlier explanation, what they were seeing was just a memory – events that had already happened and couldn’t be altered or interfered with. So why was Bryan reacting with such unrestrained fury to Ravenclaw’s attempt to destroy the Dementors?

Almost as if driven by instinct, Bryan’s body tensed, his grip on his wand tightening as he continued to aim it at Ravenclaw’s back.

It was Sirius’s shout of alarm that crashed like thunder, snapping Bryan out of his trance-like state. Bryan’s body shuddered violently as if waking from a terrible nightmare and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.

“What’s going on, Bryan?” Sirius’s voice was filled with concern.

Bryan’s lips moved, but no words came out. He didn’t know how to explain to Sirius the overwhelming, instinctual reaction that had been driven by something deep within his very soul.

After several tense moments, Bryan managed to find his voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. “It’s nothing,” he said, clearly lying but unable or unwilling to elaborate.

“Let’s keep watching.” With that, he pressed his lips tightly together, a clear signal that he would say no more on the subject.

As they turned their attention back to the unfolding scene, they witnessed a display of magic that defied imagination. In Ravenclaw’s palm, a miniature sun seemed to be taking form. Its radiant light pierced through the perpetual gloom of Azkaban, causing the very foundations of the gloomy island to tremble in response. The sheer magnitude of this power, even within a memory, was enough to cause Bryan’s expression to change once more.

In the distance, the frozen Dementor’s ethereal body trembled violently, as if enduring unimaginable agony. The unfortunate creature directly subjected to Rowena Ravenclaw’s formidable power emitted a continuous, bone-chilling wail from within her grasp. The sound was unlike anything Sirius or Bryan had ever heard before – a cry of pure anguish that seemed to resonate on a spiritual level.

As the hellish cries continued to echo across the desolate landscape, Godric Gryffindor, standing beside Ravenclaw, made a decisive move. With a look of grim determination etched onto his face, he reached out his rough, battle-scarred hand and grasped Ravenclaw’s delicate palm.

The moment their hands connected; A thunderous boom erupted from the Void!

What followed was a display of magical synergy unlike anything recorded in the annals of wizarding history. Two vastly different soul energies combined like apocalyptic millstones. Together, they attempted to grind the Dementor out of existence in the most direct and brutal manner imaginable.

The agonized wailing emanating from their joined hands gradually weakened, becoming fainter and fainter until it was barely audible. The very air around them seemed to distort, warped by the sheer magnitude of the magical forces at play.

After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a matter of moments, Gryffindor slowly moved his palm away. Ravenclaw deep in concentration, also opened her hand.

The tension in the air was palpable as Bryan and Sirius immediately moved closer, eager to see the results of this unprecedented magical assault. However, their expressions quickly darkened when they saw what remained in Ravenclaw’s hand.

Against all odds and expectations, the Dementor was still there.

The creature had been drastically altered by the power it had just endured. Its form was now nearly transparent and reduced to roughly the size of a small fish.

Yet, despite this dramatic reduction, the fundamental essence of the Dementor persisted. It had not been destroyed or erased from existence as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had clearly intended.

“How is this possible?” Sirius exclaimed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

Indeed, according to common knowledge in the wizarding world, Dementors were believed to be indestructible. But surely, Sirius thought, that belief was based on the limitations of ordinary wizards. The ones who had taken action before them were none other than the great Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw, two of the perhaps most powerful wizards in history. How was it possible that even with their combined powers, they couldn’t annihilate a single, ordinary Dementor?!

Bryan’s eyes flickered with an odd light, finding it equally incredible.

As they stood there, frozen in shock and struggling to grasp the scene before them, Gryffindor, undeterred by this initial failure, prepared to make another attempt. His legendary sword began to hum with magical energy. The air shimmered around the blade, and suddenly, a majestic lion with ruby-red eyes and a fiery mane materialized out of thin air, roaring furiously at the ‘little Dementor’ in Ravenclaw’s palm.

Sirius, momentarily forgetting the seriousness of the situation, cried out in excitement like a young wizard witnessing magic for the first time. The Patronus was indeed a magnificent sight, embodying all the courage and nobility associated with the house of Gryffindor.

Bryan, on the other hand, having seen this particular Patronus before narrowed his eyes in anticipation of what would happen next.

With the unspoken understanding that comes from years of friendship and collaboration, Rowena gently shook her palm, allowing the tortured ‘little Dementor’ to float towards Godric’s Patronus. The corporeal lion opened its terrifying, blood-red mouth wide. In one swift motion, it swallowed the diminished Dementor whole.

“This time it’s surely done for!” Sirius shouted out confidently, his voice ringing with a mix of excitement and vindication.

The Patronus, which seemed as alive and sentient as any living creature, let out another fierce growl. A mysterious magical power began brewing within its closed mouth but….

After a moment of breathless anticipation, something unexpected happened. The majestic lion Patronus, with what almost seemed like a look of confusion on its spectral face, spat something out onto the floating ground.

Rowena Ravenclaw with a frown of concentration, stared intently at what the Patronus had expelled. There, floating above the ground, was a transparent ghostly creature. It was the Dementor, now reduced to a size no larger than a pinky finger, but still unmistakably present and intact.

Ravenclaw spoke, her voice losing its usual ethereal quality and becoming heavier with the seriousness of this revelation, “Do you see it, Godric?”

Gryffindor nodded grimly, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. Ravenclaw continued, her ice-blue eyes flickering with a hint of worry, “It cannot be destroyed. The Patronus indeed has the power to affect it, but the key isn’t in the power of the soul, it’s in… happiness. And these pitiful creatures—”

‘Not in power, but in happiness.’

Bryan’s brow furrowed slightly as he pondered her words, trying to decipher their full meaning. But what he heard next shattered his composure entirely!

“Ah, Herpo—” Gryffindor said, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy and perhaps a touch of anger. “That cunning fellow created the Horcrux, using the lure of immortality to deceive so many wizards of his time. They were used, constantly splitting their souls, ultimately becoming these empty shells caught between life and death, ghosts without substance.”

Crack!

The impact of these words was like a bolt of lightning striking Bryan’s very soul, draining the color from his face.

What did this mean? Dementors were… wizards? Not just any wizards, but those who had attempted to achieve immortality through the creation of Horcruxes? Wizards who had split their souls so many times that they had become these empty, soulless shells?

Sirius, standing beside Bryan, also wore an expression of shock and doubt. Though he didn’t know what a Horcrux was- he could at least understand the basic implication of Gryffindor’s words. The fearsome Dementors, the terror of Azkaban, were once human wizards who had somehow split their souls.

Bryan’s thoughts whirled in turmoil as he tried to merge this new information with what he knew.

In modern times, Voldemort was the only wizard Bryan was aware of who had split his soul multiple times, a feat of dark magic that had given even the ‘great’ Albus Dumbledore no end of trouble. Voldemort had likely been most proud of his mastery over Horcrux magic, viewing it as the ultimate path to immortality. But neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort could have imagined that the ultimate fate of repeatedly splitting one’s soul would be… this.

As Bryan’s mind raced, piecing together the inferences in this revelation, he found that it made perfect sense in a twisted way, didn’t it? A Horcrux, by its very nature, would strip away the good parts of a person’s soul, leaving only the darkest aspects of human nature behind. And if, in the end, even that remnant of evil was stripped away through repeated divisions, what would be left?

The answer was chilling: Dementors fed on the emotions of the living out of instinct, an instinct to complete what was missing in themselves!

“How pitiful—” Ravenclaw’s face showed a depth of compassion that seemed at odds with the reputation often attributed to her house. Her ice-blue eyes softened for a while as she gazed at the tiny Dementor, seeing not a monster, but a tragic victim.

“These wizards fell victim to a plot, they must have once followed Herpo, believing that his gift of the Horcrux magic was a reward, a path to eternal life. But they were used as pawns in a greater scheme. Herpo only needed their nearly indestructible shells after they had transformed into these creatures.”

‘Needed their shells?’

Despite the chaos swirling in his mind, Bryan latched onto this phrase, sensing its importance. He knew that either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw must have preserved this memory as a crucial piece of information, a guide for future generations. Yet, even with this knowledge, he still couldn’t fully decipher all the information presented to him.

“Pitiful creatures indeed,” Gryffindor agreed, his voice a mix of compassion and steely resolve. “But regardless of their origins, we must find a way to destroy them. The threat they pose is too great to ignore.”

Ravenclaw nodded slightly, her expression serious. “That’s the most crucial step,” she agreed. “Understanding their nature is important, but finding a way to disintegrate them… that’s the true challenge we face.”

As this solemn conversation took place, Sirius found himself looking back and forth between Bryan’s pale, conflicted face and the imposing figures of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. He opened his mouth several times but didn’t know what to ask.

There were simply too many questions, too many earth-shattering revelations to process all at once. But one thing Sirius knew with absolute certainty: he had just learned some extremely important secrets. And Bryan’s insistence on coming here was most likely related to these secrets!

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