BOOK SEVEN. The Dementors.
Terms related to the use of humans by Dementors.
braciage: The physical and mental defences which protect the lake of the spirit from interference. It is unknown what function it performs aside from the temporary slowing down of a Dementor when it first feeds from a morkon.
morkon: The victim from which a Dementor feeds.
seriators: The Dementor's specially modified jaw appendages. Rubbery, narrow, very strong, used to force apart clenched teeth and to bend back around them, using any irregularities to help hold the victim very firm, and clamped into place. This makes the morkon more convenient to feed from, and it protects the ricora from injury.
ricora: The tongue of the Dementor.
Notes: My books diverge from the originals after Book 5.
History: Harry has some brain damage, firstly from his fight with Voldemort, and more recently from a head injury and resultant illness. This brain damage is the cause of his minor handicaps. Harry's adult children: Victoria, Margaret, James and Beth. Adam Bourne is his stepson. Harry's staff includes Bill Forester, manager, Margaret Brown, secretary, Chris & Chrissy Barnes, their sons, Simon & Beau. Kevin, Melissa & Jason Wiley, 3 daughters. Milly, Tracy & Klaus, cooks. Jimmy Carr, Horse Manager. Other characters mentioned, Cissy Diefenberger, a young relative, who can also break spells.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & his world belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter 1:
Jimmy Carr was busy. Five children from the estate were competing at the big Easter horse show, and they'd brought several horses. Jimmy was seventy-five, but still perfectly fit and active.
He had a helper, an apparently much younger man, wearing faded jeans and a casual shirt, who was helping sort out horses to riders, and ensuring each rider had his allotted horse ready to go. Sitting on the edge of one of the horseboxes, and watching solemnly was a small boy. He had a mop of black hair, bright green eyes, and wore glasses like his father. Adrian Potter was five, but looked younger.
Harry and Jimmy were at this moment giving a final touch up to two very similar ponies, of 14 hands. Each of them had piebald markings of a deep grey and white, and one had an odd slash of black across his face. Bluebird and Clown bore themselves with pride, had long, flowing manes, and, in spite of their size, there was not really much of the pony in their looks. They were entered in a show class, pairs, and were to be ridden by the two oldest girls of Melissa and Jason Wiley. The Wileys were employed as security guards at the home of Harry Potter, world famous as the great wizard, and currently Jimmy's helper.
As soon as the girls were ready, both Jimmy and Harry hurried to ringside to watch Chris's boys compete in the show jumping. Adrian rode on the shoulders of Jimmy, as his own father was less sure-footed. Beau and Simon were sixteen and seventeen. They had very good horses to ride, a glossy black gelding called Kelly, and a young brown mare, Tamara, rather haphazardly bred by Harry, who nevertheless tended to find himself with some very beautiful horses.
In other show classes, the Wiley's youngest daughter had a black pony to ride, half Andalusian like the piebalds. And there was a pinto gelding that was magnificent in novelty events, his brains now put to the test in this fashion, rather than in finding ways to mate forbidden mares.
Harry and Jimmy leaned against the fence watching the riders as they waited for their turn, but interrupted by Melissa beaming all over her face. "Second," she said with a great satisfaction. Riding horses may have been a muggle pastime, but Melissa's daughters loved it all the same. After all, if the boss could do it, so could they. Adrian was deemed too small to compete, but Melissa popped him on the back of Clown, as the two ponies were led back to the horsebox, where their tack was removed, and they were left to nibble at the scant grass.
Chris's sons were muggles, which made not the slightest difference to their satisfaction when they collected ribbons. In this event, though, they were to miss out, fourth and fifth respectively. Harry said well done, it looked good to him. Jimmy said that they'd have to try harder, that they were obviously not concentrating.
There was a break then, and Harry hopped into the back of the horse box, and handed out a table and several chairs for Jimmy. They hadn't brought them, they were just conjured as needed, and would be vanished afterward. The picnic baskets were not conjured, they were carefully prepared by Tracy the cook, and by her irascible husband, Klaus. It was quite a large gathering with two sets of parents, the children, Jimmy Carr and Harry Potter. Harry looked like just another groom, and when a wizarding family passed by, the Finch-Fletchleys, no notice was taken of any of them.
Harry noticed them, and reminded himself to put a charm on the two horseboxes and the car that would be returning to his hidden home. He didn't want the vehicles to be followed, although it was years since the last time anyone had tried to kill him, and Nerrissa Malfoy was dead, killed by her brother. The great wizard helped himself to another slice of apple pie.
Harry's wife, Julie, was home, discussing with Kate the redecoration of a large downstairs room, that had sometimes been a bedroom, and sometimes an extra sitting room. Kate was a very beautiful girl, the only child of Harry's daughter, Beth. She had brown skin, slanting dark eyes, and glossy black hair. Both her parents were true Telepaths, but to the relief of her parents, Kate was not. Telepaths have difficult lives, although Beth and Jeremiah had eventually found each other, and were very happy together.
Except in the summer holidays, Kate attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and stayed at her grandfather's home in the short holidays of Easter and Christmas. Her parents always came to stay at Christmas, though. Christmas was important, even though it was a long way from their tropical home.
Late that afternoon, Harry helped his employees settle the horses, enjoying the chatter of the kids, most of whom had ribbons to show off. Beau was trying hard to be modest about his large cup, earned in the Junior Show jumping, but looked blushingly pleased with himself.
Harry had poor balance, a legacy from an old illness, like his illegible handwriting, and the fits of trembling he had now and then. He missed his footing, slid on a pile of dung, and added to the dirt on his clothes. Dusty, dirty, smelly, he headed back to the large and beautiful house that was his home, prudently using his cane this time.
He was met by his wife, Julie, just outside the door, wand in hand, who rebuked him for his shabby appearance, cleaned his clothes and especially his boots with magic, so that he would not bring dirt into the house, and reminded him that the annual Ministry Ball was on that evening. Harry whispered into her ear with a different suggestion for the evening's entertainment, and she giggled, but was firm. He was already late, he was to clean himself up, have a quick dinner which had been kept for him, and to get dressed as quickly as possible.
Two hours later, Harry Potter, looking impressive in his expensive dress robes, was involved in intense discussion with his stepson, Adam Bourne, and two other researchers from the Department of Mysteries. Adam had recently published a book, which disagreed with some of Harry's theories, but as Harry had not been able to provide as logical a basis for his theories as Adam had, Adam had won the argument.
Harry still thought he was right. Magic is, by no means, always logical, and Harry had a feeling...
He looked very different now, from the shabby groom who had worked with horses all day, and this time when the Finch-Fletchleys saw him, they stared in fascination at the great wizard, and wished they knew him well enough to venture to talk to him. Harry was of average height, still looked young, although a bit thin in the face, and with touches of white in his black hair. He was eighty-five years of age, but gave an impression of vigour and energy. Harry Potter was not ageing, and there were whispers now and then that he was an unnatural freak and should be driven out of the country. But they were not yet widespread.
Harry was deriving the benefit now from the years he had spent teaching at Hogwarts, from the time he was twenty-two, for nearly thirty years. Wizards and witches considerably his junior looked older than he did, and nearly all of those close to his age, were either suffering the infirmities of age, or had already died. Harry had a lot of funerals to go to, these days, which he found acutely depressing. But there was less resentment than there might have been, as so many had been students under Professor Potter, and did not judge him by normal standards.
He was Harry Potter; he was the great wizard; he was unique.
Unique or not, he loathed speeches, and Barbara Bancroft, Minister for Magic, was not the slightest bit surprised when she noticed that he was missing the moment it appeared that the formalities were about to commence.
Instead, Harry was passionately kissing his wife, inconspicuous under a tree outside, and murmuring to her that they should instantly go home and go to bed. And Julie's eyes, too, were half closed in passion, and she was tempted. Harry had persuaded her away from quite a few functions with this tactic, but this time she was firm. They could walk a little while the bulk of the speeches were done, but afterward, they were going back.
A couple of aurors on watch close by, were amused. This time it appeared the wife had won. Harry ignored the bodyguards, provided by the Ministry whether wanted or not, but Julie liked them. It made her feel important.
**x**
The Monday after, Harry was back at Hogwarts where he did three days teaching every week. He was sharing a joke at lunch with Nick Bagshott, Senior Professor under headmaster Euan Abercrombie, when an owl dropped a note in front of him. He was needed as quickly as possible to go to the Ministry. They had been called to Italy, where four pumpkin-heads had just been discovered.
Only two people in all the world were known to have the capability of rescuing pumpkin-heads. Harry Potter and his daughter, Beth. It was a horrible spell, the pumpkin-head. A person's head was abruptly turned into a pumpkin - ludicrous, laughable if it was not so tragic. For inside that pumpkin, the person was still there, usually frantic in panic, unable to see, hear or feel, and very quickly going mad. Some died almost straight away, most lasted a few months, although it took a few years before the vegetable would gradually wither away. It was urgent to rescue pumpkin-heads.
Euan and Nick were inconvenienced as other teachers had to replace Harry for the afternoon, but as Harry pointed out, the students would not go mad, the victims of the pumpkin-head curse might easily go mad.
There was the usual rustle of comment as Harry appeared in the Ministry of Magic. He knew his way around very well these days, and no-one challenged him as he headed toward the aurors' department, where he'd been asked to report. Other visitors to the Ministry would have been escorted by a clerk, but Harry Potter was the great wizard. He did as he pleased. A few noticed that he trembled and paused for a few minutes, using his cane to keep his balance. It meant nothing, they knew. Most of them had seen it before.
Jebedee's door was open. Jebedee Shacklebolt was the head of the Auror Department, and looked up in relief. "Ah, good," he said. "They're frantic over there. It seems it's their Minister for Magic, his senior assistant, and two aurors - they keep sending more and more urgent messages, even though it's only an hour ago."
"I'll apparate then, if you like - get there quicker - it's the usual place, I presume?" said Harry calmly, although no-one else could apparate that far in one hop, and doing it in steps of a few hundred miles was quite tiring.
"Great, I thought you would," said Jebedee. "But it's not the usual place - here are the apparation coordinates, and I've already sent two aurors, Lucas and Heinrich."
Harry was silent. "Anyone else there I might know?" he finally asked.
Jebedee said, "Well no, I don't think so. Why, are you shy or something?"
"Where is it then? Aside from the coordinates?" Harry asked.
Jebedee was regarding him, wondering what the problem was. "I only know that it's not at the Ministry."
Harry was going red, and paced up and down twice, before finally admitting. "I can't apparate to coordinates."
Jebedee stared at him in surprise, "What?"
Harry repeated, "I can't apparate to coordinates, I need some more information."
Jebedee was still stunned. "Since when?"
And Harry admitted, "Since I was sick."
"You've never said anything!" said Jebedee, "And you apparate all the time!"
"Not to coordinates, and I never said anything because I thought they might want to take away my apparation license."
Jebedee gave a crack of laughter, "Harry! You're the great wizard! They wouldn't take away your apparation license! And what if they did? Who can stop you doing exactly what you please?"
Harry was grinning, but shame-faced, "Jason's an awful fusspot, and apparation licenses is one of the things he's in charge of. No point asking for bother!"
Jebedee was still vastly amused, but agreed to keep it quiet. For over twenty years, Harry had apparated, it seemed, wherever he wanted, but now admitted that he could only apparate to a known place, or to a person he knew, and he didn't know the aurors who'd been sent. An alternative was found. On request, a city was named, and a muggle address supplied, although to the surprise of the Italians. Harry was confident apparating to Florence, and would take a muggle taxi from there.
There was little of 'the great wizard' in Harry's appearance, and he was wearing muggle clothing. Although they were expecting him, the Italians hesitated. This couldn't be the great wizard sent to rescue their Minister. But Harry went to them, put out his hand, and introduced himself. He was fluent in several languages, and could make himself understood in several more.
The English aurors, Lucas and Heinrich, were waiting for them, and Harry met them for the first time, feeling their identities sufficient that he would be able to apparate to them another time if needed. He was still embarrassed that he'd had to admit that he didn't have the basic skill of apparating to coordinates, something that any competent wizard should be able to do.
But he took it perfectly for granted, when, without incident, he rescued the four afflicted wizards, each of whom were either in a full scale panic, or, in the case of the aurors, berserk with rage. Even the protective barrier he conjured, see-though but almost transparent to telepathy, was something that only his young relative, Cissy, could do aside from himself. It was for good reason that Harry Potter was universally known as the great wizard.
They wanted to make a fuss of him then, but Harry glanced at his watch, told them firmly that he couldn't stay, and apparated back to Hogwarts in time for his final class.
The Italian Minister for Magic took several days to recover from the trauma of his experience, and then there was talk about giving a medal to Harry Potter. Minister Bancroft, they said, was to ensure that he went to a suitable formal occasion in order to be presented with the award. Barbara knew Harry well. She suggested that they send it.
**x**
Most Fridays, Harry Potter made trips to various foreign countries, where he cured witches and wizards who'd been afflicted with spells that the mediwizards couldn't break. Cissy could now cope with most of these, but there were always some that defeated her.
Harry referred to Cissy Diefenberger vaguely as a relative. She was a descendant, purely by accident, of three illegitimate children that he'd left in England, Germany and America. He only knew that he was the grandfather and great grandfather, not that he was the great grandfather twice over. It was unfortunate that the half dozen accidental children of Harry tended to feel an instant attraction for each other when they met. Harry had always been very careful, he thought, about contraception, but he was attractive to women, and, as his daughter said, he was obviously pretty potent.
Cissy had grown a little in skill over the years, but did not appear to have any more pure power than when she was sixteen. The Friday sessions were usually quick trips, although on rare occasions, Harry might tire himself too much to apparate, and would then return by muggle aeroplane with Cissy's team. He still pretended to do long apparations in steps, but hardly anyone actually believed him. No-one knew that he could apparate right across the globe if he chose. That was another ability that was supposedly impossible.
Harry had long ago noted that the Ministry apparently did not regard Cissy as in need of as much protection or surveillance as they had always inflicted on him. She was a qualified healer herself, so no other healer was assigned, and there were always only two aurors, one to be in the room with her, and one on guard outside in case of threat.
But Cissy had fewer problems. She had never managed to learn to do the telepathic cures, which sometimes resulted in irate clients for Harry, could not cure pumpkin-heads, and could not muster the strong magic that Harry could. Her cures were almost invariably uneventful, and did not leave her over-tired. When Harry had travelled as Cissy now did, there were usually four aurors trying to watch over him, and a healer was regarded as an essential member of the team. And that healer had mostly kept an alert watch on Harry's health, even when Harry himself thought it totally unnecessary.
**x**
The Ministry of Magic, and especially the Auror Department, started to have more difficult times, and were trying to recruit and train extra aurors. Harry saw a lot less of the aurors these days, and none of them told him that there was trouble with the Dementors. He might have wanted to help, but word had spread - that Harry Potter was a little unstable with regard to Dementors. They had little evidence for this belief, just something he'd said to Franz once, and an old school tale of him fainting whenever he came close to a Dementor.
But Jebedee, still head of the Auror Department, did not want him interfering. It was the job of the aurors to keep the world of wizardry safe. Harry was needed for his spell-breaking abilities. He was not an auror.
The problems were kept quiet, no mention was made in the Daily Prophet, and it was not common knowledge.
Dementors came up sometimes when Harry taught Defence against the Dark Arts, and he could describe them. Very tall figures with trailing, ragged black cloaks, that fluttered in a non existent wind, faces covered with cloth, hands that appeared to be rotting, dead. That they did not walk, but glided across the ground, and could fly. That they did not see as people saw, but appeared to have a different sense, they felt their way to people by sensing their emotions - their spirit. That they used people for sustenance, feeding off their emotions. That they liked to keep people as prisoners, so that they had a continual supply, but that sometimes they were more direct, 'Kissing' the victims so that their souls were lost, but then, of course, they were no longer useable. They fed off muggles, too, but didn't seem to like muggles as they liked witches and wizards.
And he'd tell his students how they made a person feel, that everything turned cold, and a person would know that there could never be happiness in the world again. And he had to admit that there were still countries that used them as prison guards because they could drain magical powers and render a powerful wizard defenceless. That obviously wizards could communicate with them, but that he himself had never been in a position to have a conversation. He had been close enough, oh, yes, he'd been close enough! But he never told them how close he had come to being 'Kissed' himself.
Then he'd teach the Patronus Charm, whether it was supposed to be in the lesson or not. The Patronus Charm was advanced magic, but Harry was a very gifted teacher, and there were hardly any of his students fail to master the charm, although sometimes only to the extent of conjuring a silvery shield, rather than the defined silvery animal that was the fully effective Charm.
As the months passed, Dementors made further progress in what was apparently a new ambition. They'd never acted like this before, but now they took over a cold area in the far North of Scotland, and were rapidly extending their territory. Muggles couldn't see them, and would not have been able to fight them if they did. A few rumours began to circulate.
**x**