It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

Chapter 42: Happiness

Happiness

Ominous. Depressing. Dark. Harry shivered, pulled his cloak tighter around him, and recast his warming charms. It was like the very presence of Azkaban could cancel out any attempt at warmth. It didn't help that the January chill penetrated every inch of exposed skin it could find, stinging his cheeks and numbing his lips. Shifting his feet on the small patch of frozen ground, Harry looked at the grey sky. It hadn't snowed in a few days, but it had been too cold for the snow to melt. His thestral patronus stood immovable at his side, acting as a specter guard instead of prancing around like Prongs would have done, as he stood staring at the imposing doors that lead into Azkaban Castle.

"Are you certain that I am unable to accompany you?" Marvolo asked. Harry looked over his shoulder and sighed.

There had been an argument over whether Harry met the Dementors on the grounds of Slytherin Manor or in Azkaban. Marvolo had argued that it would be safer for Harry to meet with them on Slytherin grounds because it wouldn't take long to get Harry to medical attention if things went wrong. Harry argued that Azkaban would prevent all of the villages and cities in between from suffering the Dementors traveling through them, and if things went south, Harry could apparate out. Marvolo argued that if things went south, he might not have the energy or ability to apparate. Marvolo was incredibly bitter and paranoid that no one but Death's Child could be present during the meeting.

The compromise ended up being that Marvolo would Apparate him to the island. Marvolo had then scheduled a meeting with his minions during the same time. Harry wondered if he should be concerned for the Death Eaters. "I'm certain. I'll send Reaper if things change, promise."

"Reaper?" he queried.

Harry nodded at his patronus. "Get it? Grim Reaper? My patronus is a thestral, and I'm a Child of Death." Marvolo pursed his lips, and Harry was confident he would have rolled his eyes if he didn't find the action inane. Harry shrugged and forced a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "I thought it fit." Harry let out a breath and watched the puff of mist dissipate on the next gust of wind. "Anyway, I should get going. You've got your meeting too, remember? I'll see you after. I'll be expecting either hot chocolate or firewhiskey when this is over. Maybe both." Marvolo looked disgusted at the suggestion but didn't protest further when Harry pushed the imposing doors open. The doors were heavy, and he grunted at the effort to open them wide enough to step through.

The doors to Azkaban shut far faster than Harry had expected, and before he even realized it, he was standing alone with Reaper producing the only light. The corridor smelled dank and moldy. He'd sent word ahead via Amelia to the Aurors and guards that he would be arriving today and not be present. Harry didn't know what would happen during this meeting and didn't want any potential collateral damage.

Taking a fortifying breath, Harry started to walk, lighting his wand to accompany Reapers' light. Faintly, he could hear hoarse screams and whimpering moans lingering on the phantom wind that ghosted through the empty corridors; his echoing footsteps drowned them out, and Harry forced himself not to quicken his pace. He took comfort in the presence of his patronus, though. He had gone back and forth on whether he should have his patronus present. None of his ancestors mentioned summoning their patronus when they spoke with Dementors. Still, Harry wasn't sure if they didn't write it down because it was so obvious or because the Patronus Charm hadn't been invented yet and so they couldn't, or because as Children of Death and technically the Lord of Dementors, they were immediately protected like they were with Legilimency. Harry opted for a patronus for the comfort of it and hoped that summoning a patronus to ward off his 'subjects' wasn't some major social faux pas or something.