Dementor Kiss

Harry Potter books aren´t mine, they are property of JK Rowling and whoever has their rights. I write this out of pure personal pleasure, and the desire to make happy another fans. And I don´t want anything in return. Thanks.

Warning: This story contains yaoi, that means love between mans. As much as drama and suffering, supernatural creatures and scenes of a sexual nature.

Summary: When seven years after the war, Draco Malfoy escapes from his cell in Azkaban, the ministry has no choice but to send his best Auror, Harry Potter, to capture him again. Between the walls of the world's toughest prison, Harry will discover not only the origin of the most terrifying creatures, but a love against time.

Note: This is the English translation of my first ever written fanfic. I took the decision to translate it for an English friend of mine, who wanted to read my writings, but couldn´t understand Spanish. It took me some time to make a relatively good one, because I don´t speak English often, so please excuse me if it isn´t very well written. If you catch any mistake please report it to me, I will be happy to be able to improve it. Thanks, and I hope you like it.^^

I present to you:

Dementor's Kiss

Chapter 1 - Cold

Henry pulled his overcoat further around himself as he continued his nightly rounds:

"It´s cold." - It was always colder in this part of Azkaban, the highest security floor, where the old servers of the dark lord were locked, the pavilion of the Death Eaters.

He shuddered briefly from the presence of a Dementor on the other end of the hall, but it went away just a moment latter. Surely the thing had just dined. Sometimes Henry almost felt sorry for the prisoners.

Like every night, the guard was going from cell to cell, checking that no prisoner had escaped, though it seemed more than that, sometimes he thinked that what he actually did was to check if there was any dead.

He went to the next cell...

Like all others, this was another area of stone walls without windows, just long enough for a man lying in the floor, and with the width of a closet. A pot in the corner, spelled for the needs, and a blanket, were the only furnishings. Normally, it would have also a cot, but this inmate had not been granted one.

A groan caught the attention of Henry, who came to the bars. Inside the cell, under a dirty faded blanket, somebody was shaking violently, huddled on the floor.

-Lumos. - The guard held the light so it could illuminate inside.

The young prisoner could not have more than twenty-four and looked ill. His skin showed a gray pallor, the result of not having seen the sun in years. Was extremely thin due to the minimal rations received, and all of him was covered with dirt. His hair turned into a tangle of straw tone, mate and ground, which once had been as fair as white gold. However, all this could not entirely obscure the beauty of the man. The harmony of his noble traits stood out even here. The patrician nose, high cheekbones, and lips ...

-What a waste. - Muttered Henry. - So young.., and everything for following a monster. – Sighed in disgust.

The young man shuddered, and just barely, opened his eyes, gray as the mist, misted with fever, shinning through the dirty blond locks of his hair.

Draco was shivering, no matter how hard he tried to warm up, it was so very cold...The stone of Azkaban was always wet and cold. The cold seeped in his bones through the ground where he lay, despite the blanket in with he was wrapped.

It had been days since he started being really sick. His whole body ached, his lungs were pressed painfully against his ribs every time he caught air, forcing him to take less and less oxygen, making increasingly difficult to continue breathing.

But the most terrible part was the cold.

It stiffened his muscles, and froze his breath. Every time he moved it was as if he was being stuck with needles all over his body. He heard footsteps nearby, and struggling painfully opened his eyes. The only thing he could see was a blur illuminated by the light of what he believed was a wand. A guard.

Henry moved a few steps, almost stick to the bars and looked more closely at the prisoner. What was his name?

-Malfoy?

Draco was dizzy, he thought he was being called but could not be sure.

-Hey, can you hear me?

I could not get enough air, felt consciousness slipping away. But… there was something important he had to say.

Malfoy seemed to be trying to say something, but from his lips went blue no more than disjointed mutterings, too weak to be interpreted surged.

-I don´t understand what you are trying to say.

Draco couldn't breathe; the cold seemed to have crept into his lungs, freezing them. The darkness began to invade his vision, and soon, what he had to say didn´t matter anymore. As his eyelids closed again and his body started going limp, his last thought:

"It's so cold" and then, darkness.

- Hey! - But Malfoy had fallen asleep again. Henry sighed in exasperation and got up to continue the round. "Surely he will be dead tomorrow." - he said to himself as he walked. And he could not help but feel sorry for the young mist eyed boy.


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The sun of the first hour in the morning lit up the meadow and the forest, beginning, slowly the clearing of the mist.

It was quiet and lazy in the place, except for a single creature, which was crossing the lawn in a race. In the direction of a bit strange house that dominated the center of the meadow. The old wooden structure, unpainted, growing on two floors and an attic, looked a bit misplaced. The weevil, black slate roof and the chimney, which left a nice white smoke, along with a small porch and a tiny shed, completed the construction, that, in general, looked extremely cluttered and homey.

Harry loved to run.

Like every morning, he was now out touring the countryside around his home. The powerful movement of the muscles when you force yourself to the fullest and feel the beating of your heart, while the ground flies beneath your feet, the rhythm of the breath, the wind touch your face ... were feelings that helped him relax.

For Harry, there was no better way to start the day.

The last seven years had been good. The skinny boy had grown to six feet five, and the constant exercise had given him a strong and powerful body, which nevertheless retained the flexibility of a seeker. Unfortunately, much to the chagrin of the senior members of the ministry, who would love to exploit the fame of the Auror, Harry continued to prefer comfortable clothes, his glasses, and sneakers, more than the expensive suits he could afford if wanted.

Finally, slowed to a stop against the back door of the house. Wiping the sweat from his forehead inhaled the aroma that came through the open door: "Looks like Kreacher made pancakes." – That made his mouth water, just from remembering the delicious taste of good pancakes with butter.

Hermione could not stop pacing around the kitchen, "Where was Harry?" He has being half an hour waiting. She turned at the sound of the door. The said one came running, shirt and shorts glued to the body with sweat, and hair like a nest for birds, black and ruffling.

-Hello Hermione. I didn´t know you were coming. - Smiled at his friend, as he approached the table for the breakfast that Kreacher had left for him. The old elf always disappear whenever Hermione was at home, could not bear a "Mudblood" staining the house of his master, and giving him talks about freedom. Um ... pancakes, his favorite.

- You can´t tell because you're never at home when we call! Kinghsley has commanded us to go to his office an hour ago!

-Sorry, I was jogging, you know that I always run before going to the ministry. It´s very urgent? - Harry looked sadly to the pancakes; it seemed that he would not have time for breakfast.

Hermione became serious.

His curly hair was tied in a ponytail at the nape of her head to avoid being bothered at work, but some locks had escaped and framed her face. She had not grown much since the end of the war, and only the rounded curves of a woman's body betrayed her age at first sight. His eyes were other matter, they were more serious and old. She, Harry and Ron had seen too much during the war, things they could not tolerate, horrible things. So they decided to become Aurors, to prevent something like this from happening again to anyone, and the passion that drove them had made them the bests in their work. Most of the time they could act as now, as if nothing had happened, but few could understand the pain they shared.

-Harry, I think it's serious. - The tone of her voice made Harry go on duty.

-Wait a moment, I'll change. - climbed the stairs two at a time to his room. Quickly pulling off his dirty clothes, and throwing them in the corner, where he knew Kreacher would pick them later, and put on the Auror uniform, sandwiched between a cleaner spell. In five minutes he was back in the kitchen.

- What about Ron? – Asked as he prepared to enter the chimney.

-He is waiting in the office. The ministry! - Screamed. And disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.

When finally the three arrived at the office of Kinghsley, he was waiting for them.

Presiding the room behind a solid black wooden desk, sat the minister of magic, which closed the report he was reading when the Aurors came.

-Take a seat. - Harry took the chair of the center with Hermione and Ron on each side. Ron was still higher than Harry by about five centimeters, and undoubtedly was heavier, but conspicuous freckles and red hair made him look more good-natured.

Kingsley gave the report to Hermione, the brains of the team, ahd she began to review it quickly, while Kinghsley spoke:

-I have sent for you, because this case could be very complicate, and because you already know the subject. Three days ago, Draco Malfoy escaped from his cell in Azkaban.

-No way! Malfoy could not escape from Azkaban.

- Auror Wesley I assure you that if that wasn´t the case, you wouldn´t be here. - Kinghsley replied annoyed by the interruption.

Harry nudged him, and Hermione shot a look so bad in his way, that Ron fell silent.

-Please continue Kinghsley.- Harry hastened to add. Nevertheless Kingsley threw a stern look at them.

-Well. We know he has escaped from his cell, but we also know that he has not left the prison. The external alarms weren´t skipped, so he has to be somewhere inside . This in itself may not seem dangerous, but if he open more cells, it could lead to a riot or a mass breakout of prisoners. And if he has managed to open his own, nothing says he can´t open the rest. The guards have done everything possible to find him, so far without results. But since food has been disappearing from the kitchens, we know he's alive.

-But if he went to the kitchen for food, how come he hasn´t been caught? - Harry was surprised. Malfoy escaping Azkaban? Still, he could not believe that the coward would have emulated the feat of his godfather, Sirius Black.

-He's very slippery. We don´t know how he makes it. And if people knew that there is a possibility that murderers and criminals could escape from Azkaban again, it would spread the panic. We need you to find him as soon as possible. The guards have already been informed of your arrival, they will be waiting you.

-We will find him. - And the determination that hardened Harry's eyes, was like the signal all they needed to get up and leave the office.

-May you have a lucky game. -Kinghsley wondered why he has the feeling that this mission was much more than it seemed.
-

Hermione was still engrossed in reading the report as they walked to the area floo, and Ron could not stop gesturing.

- I can´t believe the coxcomb has escaped! Elusive as the ferret he is.

-Calm down Ron. We're here for that, right? We take him, discover how he has make it so it doesn't occur again, and to lock him back. - Harry tried to play down the iron.

-I don´t know if it will be so easy Harry. - Hermione stopped and looked up from the set of papers she held. - He's been eluding trained guards for days, no one has seen him, no one has heard him. It´s like he doesn´t exist. He isn´t going to be easy to find. – Ron´s snort interrupted her:

-HA! As soon as I find him, he´s going to wish he had never left his cell .-

-Ron Wesley! Our job isn´t to punish him, our job is to capture him. Leave your personal vendettas out of the case. - Hermione intercepted.

Harry sighed.

These two were always the same.

Finally, they came to the chimney. The place was very busy at this hour of the morning; workers still came to the ministry, and others who came out to do their jobs, people who came to address personal issues etc. It took a bit to find an open fireplace, especially when some passers-by recognized them, and tried to get close to greet them. Even after seven years, the heroes of the wizarding world still attracted attention. But finally, they managed to get into one, and be identified, before being accepted by the floo that lead to Azkaban.

Harry stumbled and nearly fell to the ground, but managed to keep the balance at the last moment, floo travel had never been easy for him.

After him came Ron and Hermione.

The room in which they appeared had stone walls, and no windows. The place was lit by several torches, but it was so cold…Harry furrowed further in his coat. It looked like they were in the break room of the guards.

From the table and the chairs, and because at the door hung a uniform coat.

At that moment the door opened, giving way to Henry and another man in his forties, his partner. The haughty eyes of the man, overrun by graying brown hair, unseated Harry at once. He was not very big, but had a similar eight to that of Harry and dressed immaculately. Unlike Henry, who looked nice and friendly, underlined by a slight disorder of his clothes and dark brown hair. Harry immediately wondered, why a man like that was working in a place like Azkaban.

In that moment Henry stepped forward to shake his hand:

-Welcome to Azkaban. I'm sorry it has to be in these circumstances, but we are delighted that you have come to help. My name is Henry Davidson and this is my friend Thomas Clearwater. -Harry was quick to shake hands.

-I'm Harry, they are Ron and Hermione. - Henry smiled.

-Yes, I know. So you're going to hunt Malfoy? - His face darkened with concern.

-Yes, indeed.

-Excuse me.- Hermione intercepted- Could you tell us what you know about Malfoy? Did something happen before his disappearance? No matter if it seems insignificant, it could be an important clue. – She took out a notebook, and her magical feather.

The guard seemed to remember something and his face became almost like a grimace of pain.

-Well, the day before his disappearance, I'd swear he was dying. Do you know? He was very sick, could not stop shaking, and I think he tried to say something ... but fell asleep. I did not understand anything, so I can´t tell if it could be useful or not.- Hermione picked up the notebook and feather. In the mean time Ron had being impatiently waiting them to finish with the formalities, so they could start with what really interested him, hunting.

- Can you show us the cell Malfoy? Maybe we can figure out how he did it. - Inquired Harry

-Of course, this way. - Henry walked to the door, but they saw that Thomas wasn´t. -Aren´t you coming?

-No, I have yet to make my rounds. -Said coolly, before passing to the other passage, without even saying goodbye.

-Okay, be careful. - But Thomas had already twisted the corner without even stoping.

- Is it always like that? - Asked Ron. Henry started walking followed by them:

-Well, he has reasons to be, the Death Eaters killed his entire family.- Silence followed his words.

Finally they arrived in front of a tiny cell, with only a pot and a torn and dirty blanket in it.

-It's here. -Henry took the key and opened the gate so they could look inside.

Harry looked up with a growing sense of disgust at the tiny cold cell that was Draco´s place the last seven years. Hermione seemed to be experiencing a similar reaction, although Ron only had a small smile on his face. Hermione pulled out her wand to magically start scanning the site.

-This will take a while, maybe you two could start investigating the surroundings as well. - Henry came to her side protectively.

-Don´t worry, I'll stay with her.- Hermione rolled her eyes, mans, why everyone thought she needed protection?

-Hermione, Is that okay? - Asked Ron, eager to get out and start looking for the elusive ferret.

-Yeah, yeah. We will manage. - She knew that Harry and Ron worked better if there was no third party interfering, and that was for Henry. Sure he knew the place well, but he would be a nuisance if not needed. She resigned herself to the role of woman in need of protection. What a remedy.

Harry and Ron began to advance down the corridor until they reached an intersection.

-We will cover more ground if we split. - Said Harry.

-Sounds good, I'll go over here .- Ron turned to the left.- If you see him, give me a sign. I don´t want to miss his face when we catch him. - Harry nodded.

-Don´t be so positive. We don´t know how he got out of the cell. - Ron snorted dismissing the warning.

-Good hunting mate.- And walked down the corridor right on the gloom. Harry turned to the right and looked behind him, Ron had disappeared from view.

-Good hunting .- He murmured in reply, and stepped into the shadows of its own hall.

Harry changed his stance to that of a stalker that resembled a large cat. His steps so silent not even the dust rose from the ground, moving from shadow to shadow maximizing the cover he took from the penumbra in the corridor.

All his senses alert to every sound, movement and smell of the environment. According to his advancing, the corridor was becoming increasingly dark, he noticed that the torches were off, and that the prisoners of this section seemed all asleep, or too scared to get out from under their blankets.

He began to move more carefully. Could Malfoy have caused it? A little later the hallway twisted into a corner. Harry raised his head and looked toward the wall that hid the dark hallway. He could smell the salty sea freeze, and here the atmosphere seemed less tainted.

-Lumos.- His wand lit the wall. There was a door. He walked over and grabbed the doorknob.

-Nox.- He whispered, slowly turning the handle. The door was open.

A gust of wind brushed his hair from his face, and the evening light blinded him for a moment. It seemed he had found an old exit, the door opened onto a small terrace of stone from which descended a staircase, but these had fallen off at some point in the history of the building, and now instead of giving to the floor below, as they should, the broken steps were hanging over an abyss that ended in the jagged rocks of the seashore. From here he could see the open sea illuminated by the red light of the dying sun. Harry felt a chill creeping across his back:

- So cold. – Removed the wand from his pocket to throw his coat a spell of heat, when suddenly, he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. To his right he could see part of the roof of the prison flushed with light, and there, on the slope that it formed, a group of dementors.

His figures were dark, dressed in threadbare clothes washed by the sea wind, whispering, like a chilling sound that made him shudder. They seemed to be around something. He walked to the railing to see better, yes, he saw what was in the middle.

Clothes, worn and torn by the wind, snow-white robes, a Dementor. A white Dementor.

It would continue.