Wizarding World One Shots (Discontinued)

Tom riddle and a dementor

Not many people realize it, but deep down, dementors just want to be loved. Most people didn’t realize this, because it was terribly hard to have a conversation with a creature that just staying in its vicinity starts to drive you crazy. Or at the very least make you extremely miserable. It was speculated that the Ministry of Magic hired less.. mentally fortunate kids to deal with them, as it was beyond the abilities of even the dementors to make them worse.

Tragically misunderstood, the only place for them was Azkaban, where their attempts at true happiness were unobstructed. They took happy thoughts from the prisoners, not knowing they were having an unfortunate effect on the inmates. They thought that the prisoners were as happy as they were, thinking of birthday parties, and first dates, and muggle torturing, and all that good stuff.

Dementors, good-meaning though they were, are unfortunately none too bright.

This was glaringly obvious to those about to receive the kiss, and the dementors thought in their naïve glee that they were just giving them a good night kiss.

Nor did they quite understand why the recipient never woke up afterwards.

But eventually, after a while, they did start to get lonely, and somewhat downtrodden as their guests stopped having happy thoughts to share.

And then arrived a new guest, different from all those before.

His name was Tom, though he preferred Lord Voldemort, Torturer of Muggles, Purifier of Blood, the Dark Lord, and other such pretentious titles. However, at current, he wasn’t quite the Voldemort the future generations would know. Only five years out from school, he’d barely had time to split his soul into a few horcruxes, study zombification (because even though he’d never admit it, Tom thought Zombie Movies were the best thing ever created), and not much time was left over for dark rituals to transform into a form fitting for an Evil Overlord.

Well, actually, to tell the truth, he’d only completed one vaguely evil unnecessary ritual to transform his body so far. As far as Tom, soon-to-be-Voldemort was concerned, all Dark Lord’s must be ridiculously pale, tall, anorexic, and have red eyes. Lack of nose and hissing noises were a definite plus. As of yet, he’d managed the pale thing by staying indoors for long periods of time while he sulked evilly and studied grandmaster plots for world domination and Muggle Control. He remembered to hiss most the time.

But for the most part, he just looked like a scrawny twenty-something who convinced himself he was a vampire.

He was going to turn his eyes red, but he’d had the misfortune deciding to complete the ritual in an alleyway instead of a spooky forest, as he knew he should but the alley was so much more convenient, and a hobo who entered the ally with the intention of relieving his bladder had caught Tom at his ritual.

Then, of course, the Ministry of Magic swooped down on his head and threw him in Azkaban for breaking the International Statue of Secrecy, besides they said, his eyes were creepy.

In Azkaban, Tom fumed over being thrown in jail for such a minor thing, when he was going to be Dark Lord, just they wait! Putting him in jail for magic in front of muggles was like making a serial killer do community service for littering!

As the future Dark Lord brooded in his cell, Christopher, the dementor on duty for the area by Tom’s cell looked in on the spooky-looking Tom Riddle, and was deciding whether or not Tom would like to be his friend. He’d asked another prisoner, but the other one was screaming incoherently about rats, and Chris was pretty sure that wasn’t quite equal to a yes.

Tom looked through the bars at the dementor looming above him, and scowled. “Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

Christopher shook his head under the hood; nope he wasn’t going to stare all day. He’d have to look up in an hour or two to go get food. Maybe he could go back to staring after that though.

With Chris continuing to stare, Tom stood up and stared back at Chris. Staring contest with a creature of ultimate darkness and a lack of face, this was the perfect way to prove his evil superiority! Or if nothing else, it would pass the time. He had an hour or two to waste before food came anyway. Of course though, he eventually blinked.

Even with his limited dementor-mental capacity, Chris had realized that he and Tom were having a staring contest. And when Tom Riddle blinked, he did an impromptu victory dance and hopped around, rotting hands held in the ‘V’ for Victory sign.

“Don’t look so smug. For all I know you could have been blinking the whole time! This isn’t fair, I can’t see under your hood,” the future Dark Lord, heir of Salazar Slytherin, whined at the celebrating dementor.

Chris stopped and realized he had blinked several times, and that he had cheated and that wasn’t fair. He hung his head in shame.

Confused, Tom looked at the saddened Dementor. These things, they were supposed to be the horribly scary creatures that guarded the wizard’s prison? You have got to be kidding. But then he realized, these things fed off soul, and where was his soul? His own body, a diary, a locket, and some other places he’d forgotten. Well, he hadn’t really lost them; he just didn’t know where they were… Fine, he lost them. Whatever. But the point was, the dementor didn’t affect him.

Crouching down, Tom spoke to the dementor, “Hey, we’re friends, right?”

Christopher assumed so, because if they weren’t friends then why would Tom be visiting with him at his house? Chris had a lot of friends, he just wished that they didn’t insist on staying behind bars, but he got in trouble if he opened them.

“Well, if we’re friends, can you please open the bars for me? To make up for cheating on the staring contest with me?”

Chris knew he wasn’t supposed to, so he hesitated.

“C’mon. Pretty please with sugar on top?” Tom pleaded.

Chris looked at those red shining puppy dog eyes and nodded. He opened the bars, and let Tom out.

“Thanks!” Tom stepped out, thankful that he didn’t have to waste any more time in prison when he had much more useful thing to be doing, like practicing his evil laugh. “I promise I’ll come back for you some time!” Dementors were bound to be useful, after all.

Chris held on to Tom’s hand. He looked at the future Dark Lord sadly. He didn’t want to be left here alone; he’d had the best time with the staring contest ten minutes earlier.

“Here, I promise I’ll be back.” Tom leaned forwards and pecked the Dementor on Chris’s cheek. “I promise Chris, wait for me!”

And with that Tom was off like a shot. Chris watched him go, and then looked down at cell. If Tom said he was going to come back, then Tom was. He just had to wait till then.