I Alone Remained Faithful (A Wizarding World of Harry Potter Fanfic)

Research

The Dementor's Kiss. There is no other punishment known to us witches and wizards that is any worse. In all books that mention the kiss they all state the same thing. 

"It is a fate worse than death." 

How can anything be worse than death you ask? From everything I've read up to this point I understand it as such, the dementor consumes your soul leaving you an empty shell. You can still breathe and your heart still works, however all the qualities that make you unique and special and gone forever. You can't even become a ghost, because you need a soul to do so. No memories, no feelings, just the vast abyss of emptiness until your heart finally gives out, and it could be years before that happens. Muggles typically call this a 'vegetative state'. 

What I'm interested in, is what happens to the soul once it is consumed by the dementor. I've heard rumors that it almost like a type of hell. The feeling of drowning but never being able to breathe air. It is said that once a dementor dies, which is extremely rare, that the souls are set free. Most of the time the dementor outlives the bodies of the victims so the souls simply implode and become nothing. But there is a small chance that if the body was still alive that the soul would find its way back and the person would wake up. But if that ever happened you would definitely hear about it in the Daily Prophet for sure. 

You're probably wondering by now, who I am. My name is Elladora Underwood and I am a muggle born witch. I am twenty five years old and I work in a small bakery in the muggle world, London to be more precise. I went to the most prestigious wizarding school in the world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My time there was fun and exciting. Lucky for me when I was accepted into the school, they had just rebuilt it after the Battle of Hogwarts in the late 90's. I remember the great savior, Harry Potter being at the grand opening ceremony. All the staff wanted him to become a professor, kind of like a protector if need be, but he refused. After all, he killed Voldemort. I think he deserved a break from everything our world has to offer. 

After I graduated, I decided to come back to my hometown in London and work in my parent's bakery shop. I frequently visit the wizarding world especially Diagon Alley, but for some reason, I just felt more at home with the muggles. It hasn't been easy though. Sometimes I forget that muggles don't know about magic and I let something slip. It's usually a spell to help me clean up the shop or helping me bake. I'm surprised at how understanding and calm my parent's have been through all of this. Though they are always bothering me to meet someone and settle down and make some more little wizards and witches. They are quite proud of the fact that I can do magic, and that makes me feel great. Not everyone can be so understanding. 

I looked down at my phone. It said 3:36AM. 

"Three AM!?" I shouted. I slammed my books closed and scooted out of my chair.

 I was in the Diagon Alley Public Library, doing some research on dementors and their kiss. The reason is because I was walking home from work and when I went to take the underground train, I noticed a dementor was going after a man. I assumed it was Azkaban business, so I just turned around and walked away. Even though I left, I could still hear the man screaming in pain, wanting it to stop, until there was nothing but silence, which was more terrifying. Since that day it has fascinated me, and I needed to learned more. I even found one of the most prominent recorded cases of this punishment being carried out. The victim was Barty Crouch Jr, the Head of The Ministry of Magic's son. Barty Crouch Sr, is actually the one who signed the order for his own son's punishment. I couldn't even imagine how it felt to be the parent of a murderer. 

Now Mr. Crouch is retired, living out his days alone, in the countryside. It's absolutely tragic, but there is nothing he could do. His son was a killer and a lunatic. The choice of punishment however I think was too severe for the crimes. He should have just spent the rest of his days in Azkaban atoning for the things he had done. 

I walked out of the library. It was black. No one to be seen, it was very eery. Carefully and quickly, I made my way out of Diagon Alley and back to my flat in London, safe and sound.