Hollow

No happiness

The dementors were growing hungry. That much became clear, when Potter fell from his broom after a mass of black cloaks invaded the Quidditch pitch. Creux had watched everything from the castle.
She'd had no particular longing to watch a game in the pouring rain and had chosen a window in a deserted corridor on the fifth floor to watch it from. After conjuring a pillow and making herself comfortable on the windowsill, Creux began reading her book, occasionally glancing up at the Quidditch pitch.

The best part was when Dumbledore had chased the dementors away. Creux had no idea how he'd done it, she was only able to make out a white-glowing, winged animal that rose into the air, forcing the dementors the retreat.

It had to be some sort of channelled light.

Creux was glad that Potter hadn't died (he had fallen a pretty long way, after all), but that was all she felt. She didn't like him very much, knowing that he believed her to be a murderer just like everyone else did, but that was not a reason for her to hope that he'd die.

After the drama, Madam Pomfrey had her hands full distributing chocolate around hyperventilating first years. Creux wondered how it felt like meeting a dementor.
When the Hogwarts train had been searched, she'd been in the bathroom because of her period. Dementors were probably not allowed in girls' bathrooms. Or they knew Black would never hide in one. Whatever the reason, Creux hadn't gotten to experience what the others described as 'losing all sense of happiness'.

But sooner than she expected, she met a dementor.

Three days later, Creux returned with the other Slytherins and Gryffindors from Herbology to the castle, when a dark shadow blocked out the pale sun. Shrieks were heard when heads swirled around, seeing two hooded figures gliding above them.

The dementors were dressed in black rags, a low hood covering their heads. One stretched out a bony hand, its skin black and flaky.

Creux stared at them, fascinated, then looked around at the others. Almost everyone had begun to run to the school, yelling in panic (Malfoy being one of them). Potter was sitting on the ground with a pale face, while Granger and Weasley flanked him, trying to hoist him up.

"Harry, come on," said Granger urgently.

The dementors exhaled raggedly and floated towards Potter, their cloaks drifting behind them.

"B-Back off!" said Weasley, swaying fearfully when one dementor turned towards him.

Creux felt extremely confused. It was obvious the Gryffindors felt weak in the dementors' presence. They had grey faces and Granger, who'd pulled out her wand, couldn't hold it steadily.

But why wasn't Creux affected?

When the dementors stretched their bony hands out towards Potter, Creux moved without thinking. She stepped right in front of the three Gryffindors, her green eyes narrowed.

The dementors hissed and lowered their heads into her direction. Creux heard them inhale raggedly and smelled their foul breath- but nothing happened.

To her confusion, the dementors floated around her, not appearing to bother with her as they tried to get to the Gryffindors.

"Hey!" said Creux sharply and moved so she was once more between the dementors and the students. "Back off!"

The hissing sound grew louder and the dementors stretched out their hands into her direction. Creux could almost see the outline of- something under their hood, that was how close they were.

But she didn't feel anything. What was wrong with her?

"Expecto patronum!"

Something furry crashed into the dementors, sending them flying through the air. They screeched and disappeared into the woods, the white creature dispersing into shards of light.