Tristan Parkes: Day of the Dementors

Tristan took Ashlee into an annex off the TARDIS medical bay. The room had what looked like a dentist's chair, with some sort of probes at the head of it in the middle of the room, and a computer console over on the side, positioned such that the person in the chair would be unable to see the screens.

Since Tristan teleported her to the TARDIS, Ashlee had calmed down slightly and asked: "Is this gonna hurt?"

"Psychologically, it probably will, as I'll be asking you to describe your worst memory in as much detail as possible," replied Tristan. "There won't be any physical pain, though. Those probes on the chair are for reading your brainwaves. I'm also going to need to stick this silver disc on your forehead," Tristan picked up a disc about the size of an Aussie 20-cent coin from the table, "during the procedure."

Ashlee sat down in the chair and shivered sightly.

Tristan tapped a control on the chair and the probes at the head of the chair came into contact with Ashlee's head. Tristan then squirted some gel from a tube onto one side of the disc and stuck it in the middle of Ashlee's forehead. He sat down at the computer, keyed in a few commands, and a pale blue beam streamed out of a terminal above Ashlee and hit a small bump in the centre of the disc.

"So, what now?" asked Ashlee.

"The computer is ready to start reading your brain patterns so we can find the exact area to block access to. You just need to tell me everything about your worst memory in as much detail as possible for this to work. If you don't give me enough detail, I won't be able to correctly program the memory-block and it could end up blocking conscious access to areas we don't want to block," explained Tristan.

Tristan slipped on a pair of wireless headphones and asked, "Ready?"

"Yes," replied Ashlee, a bit uncertainly. "Where should I start?"

"The events which led up to the memory would be the best place to start."

Ashlee took a deep breath and began her story. "Me and Mel had been friends since kindy. When she started high-school, her parents sent her to boarding school, but we still hung out during the holidays."

"Go on, Ashlee."

"Well, Mel and I loved this TV show. We were gonna be late to watch it, so we took a shortcut through the park."

Tristan saw a view on his screen of a short, skinny girl with mousy brown hair walking through the same park he met Ashlee in. The girl on the screen turned around to face the viewer, who in this case was Ashlee, and Tristan could see that Mel had bright blue eyes, which were easily a match for his own in terms of the intensity of the colour.

"Come on, Ash! You're slower than a snail," said the image of Mel.

Laughing, Ashlee's younger self replied, "Okay! Okay! I'm coming!"

Back in the physical world, Ashlee continued her tale. "We got about half way, when these three guys appeared out of nowhere."

"Sounds like Apparation to me," replied Tristan, as he saw three figures wearing black robes appear on his screen.

"Then... I don't remember," said Ashlee. "I remember waking up in this musty old house. I couldn't move. Not a muscle."

"That sounds suspiciously like you were stunned by magic, then had the full body-bind curse put on you," said Tristan, thoughtfully, although Ashlee didn't appear to hear him. Suddenly, an image of a house interior appeared on the screen. The interior was empty of furniture, covered in dust, and the polished floorboards looked like they had definitely seen better days.

"I can see these guys yelling at Mel. I can only hear bits of what they're saying," continued Ashlee.

"Sounds like a pretty strong Stunner," commented Tristan as a drama began to unfold on his screen.

"Little bit of shit," said one of the robed figures in a horrible-sounding voice, filled with venom.

"Me?" asked Mel, looking rather bewildered.

"Don't deserve to lick the scum off my shoes. Isn't that right, Mudblood scum?" sneered a female voice from a second robed figure.

"We don't have that kind of discrimination here. You're obviously foreign," said Mel, with a look of realization on her face.

Tristan continued to watch his screen and commented: "Ashlee, if Mel was called a Mudblood, that means that she was a Muggle-born witch."

On the screen, the second robed figure slapped Mel across the face, revealing a black mark on her forearm as she swung her hand through the air. Tristan realised that these wizards must have been Death Eaters. "Don't you answer me!" the female Death Eater snapped.

"I've got every right in the world to answer you. Ever heard of freedom of speech?" asked Mel.

The first Death Eater pushed Mel to the ground and kicked her, hard. "Time to show you your place."

Mel cried out in pain, then shouted: "You won't get away with this! When the cops find you, you'll be sent back to Britain and then Azkaban Prison!"

The second Death Eater smiled evilly. "Well, that's if they find you. And by the time they do, we will have had our fun with you and your little Muggle friend."

"They'll find you. Count on it," retorted Mel.

Death Eater number one punched Mel in the face, breaking her nose, then the second one broke her arm and spat on her. The first Death Eater then proceeded to stomp on Mel's leg and Tristan heard the sickening crack of bone breaking in his headphones, wincing at the sight playing out on the screen in front of him.

Ashlee had tears sliding down her face by now. "They pulled out this stick and touched her with it. I'll never forget the screams."

On the screen, the female Death Eater touched her wand to Mel and slowly said, "Crucio," as if enjoying saying the dreaded incantation.

While this was happening, Tristan looked up and said to Ashlee: "You mean a wand. 'Crucio' is the incantation for the Cruciatus Curse. It simply causes the victim great pain."

The moment Tristan finished saying his last sentence, Mel screamed in agony, and Tristan had to pull his headphones away from his ears from the sheer volume of the screams.

"It's highly illegal, too. Usage on another intelligent life form in Britain carries a life sentence in Azkaban Prison," added Tristan, while the onscreen Mel was screaming.

The second Death Eater sneered, "You don't like that, do you? What a shame." She proceeded to repeat the procedure, and Mel screamed again, but not as loud as the first time.

Panting, and looking murderous, Mel snarled: "The cops will be here any minute, and then you're going to get it."

"Not bloody likely," said the third Death Eater, who had remained silent up until now, no doubt just enjoying watching the torture of Mel. He then proceeded to kick her in the head, and the first Death Eater pulled out a clump of Mel's hair, whilst the second one broke her other arm and leg.

"Diffindo!" snapped the third Death Eater and a long bloodstain appeared across Mel's shirt.

Death Eater number one held up Mel's head by her hair and snarled nastily, "Any last words, Mudblood?"

"Yes. Go and answer the door," replied Mel with a mean smile and there was the sound of a car pulling up outside.

The Death Eater holding Mel produced a knife and held it to her throat.

"And didn't I tell you that there is no bloodline discrimination here in Australia?" responded the onscreen Mel.

"Then..." Ashlee gave out a sob. "They slit her throat."

The image played out on Tristan's screen. "How horrid," commented Tristan, looking at the screen in disgust.

Back on the screen, Mel fell to the floor, dead.

Suddenly, a Cop burst in the door, gun drawn. "Hold it right there."

"There was a flash of purple light. It felt like a knife had slit me right across the stomach, but I could move again. So I ran and hid in a cupboard," said Ashlee, and the view on the screen changed from its former immobile state to running towards a cupboard, a hand reaching out and opening the door, climbing in and peering out through a gap in the slats of the door.

The cop pressed a button on his radio and said: "This is Constable Brown. Send in the Weird Shit Experts."

Ashlee was shaking in the chair while the computer recorded her brainwaves. "There was so much noise. And blood, I was covered in my own blood."

Back on the screen, there was a reply on the cop's radio: "Roger, how many assailants?"

"Three," replied the cop.

"Backup is on its way."

The third Death Eater tried to curse the cop, but the cop was too fast and dodged the curse from the Death Eater. Seconds later, three magical cops Apparated into the house.

"Drop your wands and give yourselves up," said the first magical cop to arrive.

"Never. I'm not going to Azkaban," retorted the third Death Eater, and immediately started duelling with the first magical cop, shortly joined by the other two Death Eaters and the other magical cops.

While the magical cops were duelling the three Death Eaters, the Muggle cop took the opportunity to shoot the female Death Eater in the head, and she went down instantly.

"Three against two. You're outnumbered. Give yourselves up, and you'll probably live, provided the British don't feed you to Dementors," said the second magical cop.

The third Death Eater just smirked and dropped his wand. "Too bad you're too late to save the Mudblood," he replied gesturing to the body lying in a pool of blood.

"If you don't get handed over to the British, you'll get life imprisonment here for that," said the third magical cop as she dodged a curse from the third Death Eater, who had picked up his wand again.

"Hey! Where's the Muggle?!" exclaimed the first Death Eater.

"Forget her," said the third Death Eater to his companion. "We've got to deal with these three!"

"Stuff this! You're on your own!" exclaimed the first Death Eater, and tried to Apparate out.

"Oh, no you don't," said the second magical cop, who waved his wand, and the first Death Eater reappeared in the room, looking very ill.

"You won't take me alive!" shouted the Death Eater then pointed his wand at himself, shouting, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" and fell over, dead.

The last remaining Death Eater paled at the loss of his second companion, but continued to fight the cops relentlessly. On his own now and trying to duel three magical cops at once, the Death Eater was faring rather badly, especially after the Muggle cop shot him in the leg, giving the second magical cop the opportunity to hit him with a powerful curse, which sent him flying across the room and smacking into a brick wall, where he fell down dead.

"I hate having to kill people at work," said the third magical cop. "I'd rather see them rotting in jail."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," replied the first magical cop. "At least we won't be the ones who have to explain about this girl's murder."

"That would be your department, Constable Brown," added the second magical cop.

"Right," said the cop. "I'll let the station know you guys really helped out, even if I have no idea how you do what you do."

The second magical cop laid a hand on his Muggle counterpart's shoulder and replied: "Don't worry about how we do it, just be glad we do do it."

"Can't argue with that."

"Well, I think we can safely leave now," announced the first magical cop, and all three magical cops Apparated out.

The cop just shook his head and muttered: "I don't think I'll ever understand the WSEs, but they are dead useful at times."

Young Ashlee crawled over to Mel's body from her hiding point in the cupboard. "Mel? Mel, wake up. Please." Tristan heard Ashlee's younger self start crying softly and slowly the crying grew into a howl of misery. "Mel! No! You can't be-! You can't!" The view shifted and it appeared that Young Ashlee had lain her head on the bloody chest of her dead friend. "Don't leave me," she whispered.

"Hey, who are you?" asked the cop, softly.

The cop's gentle nature didn't do anything to help with Young Ashlee's crying. "Mel! We were gonna be friends forever! You said so!" sobbed Young Ashlee. "Come back! Come back!"

While Tristan couldn't see the cop's face, due to where Young Ashlee was looking, he could guess that the cop probably looked rather gloomy and his voice confirmed the thought when he next spoke to Young Ashlee. "Oh dear. I hate situations like this. Miss, she's dead. She was already dead when I got here," said the cop, trying to sound comforting.

Young Ashlee merely sobbed harder. "No! No! She can't be-" From what Tristan could tell from his screen, Young Ashlee was clinging to the body and screaming.

"I'm sorry, Miss. But she's certainly dead. Come here," said the cop, gently, and trying to drag Young Ashlee away from the body of her friend.

Young Ashlee struggled away from the cop and ran, falling down after about a metre, clutching her side.

"You're injured," observed the cop. "Looks like I got here just in time or those bastards in there would probably have killed you too. Come on, I should get you to a hospital. That looks like one very nasty cut you've got there."

The cop offered to help Young Ashlee up, but she just curled up into a ball and cried.

"At the rate you're bleeding, you'll die if I don't get you to a hospital," said the cop, and the view changed as he picked up Young Ashlee, who struggled, but was too weak from blood-loss. The cop then put her on the back seat of his car and drove to the town hospital. The view showed changed as the cop carried Young Ashlee into the hospital and turned her over to the hospital staff.

Back in the TARDIS medical bay annex, Ashlee was lying on the chair, sobbing.

On Tristan's screen there were brief flashes of memories of a funeral, a police questioning room and some therapy sessions, but they only lasted for about a second each.

"I can see why you react so badly to the Dementors after seeing that memory. It's way worse than my worst memory," said Tristan, with a hint of gloominess in his voice.

Ashlee,still sobbing, said, "I need a hug. Where's that bloody cat when you need it?"

"Aster's sitting under the chair," replied Tristan. "Hang on a minute while I finish up with the computer, then I'll be able to get you out of that chair. The computer managed to get more than enough detail to correctly program a memory-block."

Tristan finished up with the computer and the blue beam connected to the disc shut off. He then walked over to Ashlee and pressed the button to make the probes retract. As soon as she was free of the probes, Ashlee curled up into a ball, just like her younger self had done. Tristan picked up Aster and offered him to Ashlee, who held the Kneazle to her chest and sobbed into his fur. Aster, however, clearly wasn't too keen on getting wet.

"I can imagine that you sometimes have nightmares about that incident," said Tristan. "Frankly, I don't blame you. If I'd been in your position and seen such a horrible scene, I'd probably be just as bad as I am after using Avada Kedavra."

Ashlee trembled and replied, "I still dream about it. I had to sleep with the radio on so the screams wouldn't wake the neighbours."

"You can take that disc off your forehead, you know," said Tristan with a smile. "I've got all the data I need to program a memory-blocking chip in the computer."

Ashlee wiped her eyes and Aster struggled away. "Fine. Be that way. Stupid cat."

"You want to tell me what happened afterwards? I only saw flashes of scenes for about a second or so on the screen. Would you like to hear about my worst memory?" asked Tristan, looking concerned.

Ashlee shook her head and pulled her knees under her chin. "Those other memories aren't so bad. What's your worst memory?"

"During the summer after my third year at Hogwarts, I was hit by a lorry. I spent three weeks in a coma, and another four in hospital afterwards. I'm lucky the lorry driver slammed on his brakes when he did. Had he been a second later, I would have been dead. The guy felt really guilty about what he did, and came to visit me in hospital every Thursday. I don't think he's ever managed to get over his guilt."

"That's awful," said Ashlee, absentmindedly clutching her stomach.

"Have you got a scar from that cutting hex?" inquired Tristan. "I don't have any external ones. I suppose I can thank the medicine of the 2080s for that."

Ashlee shyly lifted her shirt to reveal a long, ugly purple scar stretched across her stomach. "It's always there to remind me."

"So I see," said Tristan, and Ashlee lowered her shirt again. "Well, you knew someone from the wizarding world before you met me. Your friend Mel was a Muggle-born witch. My great-grandfather and his sister are both Muggle-born wizards. Great-great-aunt Lynda is a notorious prankster. She holds the record for being the worst troublemaker to attend 21st century Hogwarts. Just think, she's only halfway through her first year at Hogwarts right now."

Ashlee laughed lightly. "I can't believe Mel was witch. I wondered why they targeted her. The papers said they suffered from Paranoid Schizophrenia."

"Well, the Death Eaters had a reputation for not liking Muggle-born wizards, and just-plain Muggles for that matter." Tristan shook his head. "They were all a bunch of lunatics. I think the last one died in Azkaban Prison in 2008."

Ashlee got a scary murderous look on her face and Tristan backed away a step. "They deserved what they got."

"Well, the ones that attacked you were obviously too cowardly to let themselves be locked up in Azkaban, given that they either fought to the death or killed themselves."

Ashlee sighed and lay down on the chair, apparently too depressed to reply.

"I'll get to work on programming that chip, shall I?" said Tristan, sensing that Ashlee needed some time alone. "Why don't you read up on the Voldemort Wars and the Death Eaters while I work? I'll let you know when the chip is ready."

Ashlee slumped over to a computer in the main medical bay and started reading. After a while, she suddenly said, "2007."

"What?" asked Tristan, looking up from the computer he was using to program the chip.

"The last Death Eater died in 2007, not 2008."

"Oh. Well," said Tristan, with a shrug. "I was never top of my class in History of Magic. I suppose I can be expected to get a date or two wrong."

Ashlee shrugged herself. "I can't read anymore." Ashlee closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"Not to worry," replied Tristan. "I'm going to need you asleep to implant the chip, and the computer just finished programming it."

Ashlee just sighed tiredly.

Tristan picked up a needle full of clear liquid. "This is a very powerful anaesthetic. It will greatly reduce your brain activity, and a very low level of brain activity is exactly what is needed to implant this chip. Ready?" he asked.

Ashlee shrugged. "Whatever. I really don't care anymore." she replied, and stared off into space.

Tristan led her to a bed and injected her. Ashlee was out cold in a matter of seconds. "That is one really powerful anaesthetic," Tristan said to himself. He then grabbed a tube-like device from the replicator and put one end over the programmed chip, which slipped inside the device. Tristan carefully put the device to the back of Ashlee's head and soft scratching sounds could be heard for a minute as nanites from the device cut a small hole in Ashlee's skull to slip the chip in through. When the nanites had finished making the hole, a light went out on the device and then the nanites started moving the chip into place, connecting it up to the nerve cells and a second light on the device went out. Mre scratching sounds followed as the nanites filled the hole they had made back in and repaired the tissues they had cut through. A third light went out. Tristan removed the device and there was no sign that anything had been done to the back of Ashlee's head. Tristan then rolled Ashlee over onto her back and injected her with a clear cyan liquid.

Ashlee promptly snapped her eyes open, apparently dazed. "Wha? What happened?"

"Shake your head. It'll help clear it," said Tristan. "That anaesthetic makes you feel a bit dazed for a bit after it's counteracted or wears off."

Ashlee shook her head and asked, "So, Doc? Am I cured?"

Tristan scanned Ashlee with a medical scanner and replied, "The chip is in place and, according to the scanner, is working correctly. You should be able to consciously access that memory, but subconscious access is now blocked."

Ashlee smiled. "Thanks, Trist. You know, I actually feel a bit better, but I think it's cause I was able to get it off my chest. Thanks for putting up with me."

Tristan smiled in response. "Hey, you'll be a lot more useful in a fight against the Dementors if you don't have to relive that memory and end up collapsing anymore."

Ashlee blushed and replied, "I guess I wasn't much of a help before, was I?"

"Well, you were, until that Dementor got close to you when we were fighting them in the street and when that one showed up at Matt's place, you were injured."

Ashlee grinned. "And to think I've only ever used a video game gun before that."

"Well, one good thing about the microwave guns is that they don't have any recoil, unlike traditional projectile weapons."

Ashlee jumped up. "Well, come on. Lets go get that object!"

"Let's head for the Projector Room and we can get a good look at how things have changed since I first made those scans."

"Lead the way!" said Ashlee enthusiastically, and the two of them left the TARDIS medical bay.