What a Dementor Has to Say

"You know... I didn't ask to be born a soul-sucking monster that everybody generally regards as the scum of the earth, or, at least the Wizarding World. I mean, I'm horrifying scum of the earth, so at the very least I hold some power in my unfortunate position, but the fact is I'm still ranked as scum."

Dosie the dog's ear twitched once, twice.

"I mean... it's not like I had a choice, you know. Did Lord Voldemort, when he was born, see a man come up with a list of choices on what he would make of his life? Did somebody ask Harry Potter- the Chosen one, he didn't get to choose- whether he would like to be the person to save the world from, well, partly from people like us?

No, some things are just downright unavoidable, if you want to know what I think about it. I don't generally belief in fate, but in some cases you are what you are. I've tried to look on the bright side of things before, I have! I'm a versatile, open-minded being. I've, I've listened to old Beatles records. I tried blowing up balloons once, but all I could do was actually blow them up, make them combust. I've tried.

But some things just are not meant to be. Like the way you're brought up, you don't choose your parents. Sometimes I wish I could have, maybe some other couple could have taught some sense into me. Taken me to a park to play ball, gotten me some fresh clothes. I mean, look at what I'm wearing. I haven't changed my look in more than two decades, nobody has."

The man peered looked down at Dosie through his hood; she looked like she was asleep, but was likely a practiced fake-sleeper and knew of everything that was happening around her. He wouldn't have been surprised if the old mongrel had somehow found a way of seeing through her own eyelids. Anything was possible. Well, maybe not everything...

"I don't know... maybe I do feed off of other people's most dandy emotions, but hey, who doesn't? Think about it, who's going to have a jolly old time at a party when all of your friends are acting mopey? Not too many people, that's for certain. A very rare few." He sighed to himself. "It's the nature of us, all of us. When my friends, my mother, for God's sake, told me I was the Spawn of Satan, I took it as a well-thought compliment. Honestly. We know nothing of good things."

He picked up a rumbly groan coming from Dosie's stomach; her tail flapped against the pavement five times, then stilled. The man scratched the dog's ears, staring at them in a sort of contemplative but distant way. He seemed to be distant from everybody, really. But so was everybody else he knew.

"I'm allowed to get hungry from time to time!" he burst out- Dosie's head rolled to one side. "If my stomach is growling, I search for the nearest person for sustinece. That's just the way I was made, can't people understand this? I mean, if some random bloke is peckish, won't they go search their refrigerator for some leftover, I dunno, roast beef? Is that not the same thing? Did you not kill this beast for his soul merely to stave off your very demise?"

Dosie lifted her head, and stared at her temporary companion with a revolving, rolling black eye- perhaps eyeing the stranger's pockets, sniffing for treats.

The stranger now pressed his head deep into his hands, more tired than anything. He didn't know why he felt so drained. He was supposed to be full of happiness, other people's happiness.

"...We thrive off of happiness, old girl. We really do. A perfectly happy person does not go and throw their life away. Only the ones filled with hate, anger, and misery jump off of buildings in their hopeless abandon. Only the ones with no hope left. The happy, hopeful people- they thrive. This is why we as a race have survived for so long, in this world that is so obviously filled with revenge, violence, and conflict." He paused as something struck him. "Come to think of it, we haven't really much helped the world too much in those regards. What have these cattle left when all the joy is long gone, sucked bone dry? Not that it concerns me in the least bit."

Dosie opened her other eye and licked this person's hand. Her body soon went into massive shivers that ran from the tips of her old, old eyes, to her nubby, brown-tan tail. In a minute she seemed to have gotten over it, then let her body lapse once more.

'This animal must have thick skin- to be sitting so close to me for so long and not be freezing to death. For that matter, she seems quite... serene, really. About the most serene anybody could ever be around me, or one of me.'

Dosie the dog smacked her lips as if having just swallowed something quite sour. She let her head fall again as if going back to sleep.

'How is this one not moaning and whimpering?' thought the young man, slowly, watching Dosie sitting next to him rather like a Quidditch fan would watch the beginning of a game. Perhaps the old biddy was merely senile, and could simply not remember any wrongdoings that might have been dished out to her in her life. Or maybe her life had been blissfully, impossibly carefree. She was only a dog, after all.

But... then again...

Now that he considered it, there was definitely an air of melancholy in the way Dosie lay there on the ground, hunched against the brick wall that stood behind them both, hunched against her own body, her shoulders compressed together as if holding her own strength. Maybe there were some old memories creeping back up her, after all.

He smiled- it was a sick, perverted pleasure, but he still found it entertaining, watching people's reactions as he approached them with his amazing vacuum of a body and lack of real soul. He threw his head back in vague self-scorn- was it any wonder his kind was detested among all those who have met one?

But he had to admit, once again- these thoughts were going against what was meant to be. After all, you are the way you are, and you just can't fight it, no matter what anybody else might think. You just couldn't fight it.

He stood up a little unsteadily, like a drunk still searching for the right place, the right time, the right mood... his raggedy clothing brushing ever so softly against the ground. "Well, I think that it's time we said our farewell, my dear doll." A corner on the side of Dosie's mouth lifted to attempt a half a smile. Incredible, thought the honest monster.

The good man then bent down to pick up the dog's front pawhand- and she yelped from the chill. The stranger smiled a smile of his own that was rightly hidden from view, took the dog in his arms, and kissed her, kissed her strongly, a goodbye. The dog was dropped from his arms as he glided away, his mind suddenly elsewhere.

A muggle owner, locking up his shop for the night, thought he saw somebody almost... roll away from the sidewalk and into the evening shrubs, and he wondered how it had suddenly gotten to be so bitingly, bitterly cold outside on such a hot summer's day. His eyes then fell to his favorite customer, a dog named Dosie, owned by no one, who was currently sound asleep on the sidewalk.

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