Instead, Harry cleaned the cuts thoroughly in the dorm washroom as he had learned to do from a very young age since his relatives could not have cared less when he injured himself, or more likely Dudley injured him. He then applied Hermione's Essence of Murlap and was relieved to see the scratches completely disappear. Knowing he wasn't welcome back in CoMC, Harry grabbed his books on dark creatures and headed down to the dungeons.
Gryffindor Tower had too bright of an aura and the few students who were in there on a free period were too happy for his injured dementor's sensibilities. To keep himself from drawing attention, he found a nice alcove, deep in the dungeons where he could release some of his dementor aura without anyone noticing that it was colder and more depressing in that small section of already cold dungeon. Feeling warmer and happier than he had all day, Harry smiled as he cracked open the book where he was reading up on how to trap a dementor in the one chapter they were actually mentioned.
In all his reading, Harry's conclusion was that no one really knew or understood dementors outside of maybe the Department of Mysteries, and they weren't telling anyone what they knew. It didn't help that no one understood the dementor language, apparently no one bothered to ask house elves if they did. So, in all his research from the Black library and Hogwarts library, all Harry had found out was that whatever had happened to him seemed completely unprecedented and probably went against everything anyone knew about dementors. Dementors ate souls and they multiplied in mist, they did not suck out a soul to leave it and turn it into a dementor. Whatever had happened to him, only the dementors themselves seemed to know.
As for how to trap a dementor, there was a bit of speculation on that point. From the little information Harry could find, it seemed that dementors could only be trapped willingly. Harry frowned at anyone willingly being trapped. It seemed that dementors could enter into magically binding contracts that they had to fulfill, but it must be willingly. If the dementors were all guarding Azkaban, then they would have to have a contract with the Ministry of Magic. Which means the ministry had to have some way of communicating with the dementors at some point, and there had to be a reason for them to agree. Harry was confused why he wasn't currently trapped at Azkaban then. If all dementors were included in the contract, his magic should have pulled him to the prison…right?
All this caused him more confusion than clearing anything up. He had to be the strangest dementor on the planet. If I weren't already a freak… Harry thought wryly. "What are you doing here, Potter?" A familiar voice asked in a tone somewhere between derision and concern.
"Hey Gra—erm, Montague," Harry caught himself, remembering things were drastically different outside Remedial Potions and Montague wasn't his friend here. "It was too bright in the dorm."
Montague frowned and took a step farther into the alcove. Harry realized quickly that he hadn't retracted his aura, but the Slytherin didn't seem affected at all strangely. The seventh year cast the same silencing ward Luna had when she first told him of the secret society. "Harry," Graham crossed his arms and looked at the younger teen. "Have you told anyone what you are? Luna maybe? Or Neville? You have to let someone in, or all this secrecy will drive you batty."
Harry frowned darkly at the Slytherin. "You know I don't believe anything written in the Daily Prophet. You're saner than you have any right to be," Montague assured him quickly with a sigh. "Look, my father is a Death Eater."
Harry's eyes widened. He already assumed this, but Montague just coming out and saying it was a whole different matter. "Why are you telling me this?"
Montague slid down the wall to sit on the floor beside the dementor. "My creature genes come from several generations ago. It completely skipped over my father and even his father. He doesn't understand what we go through or why the society is so important to me, not that I've told him about the HSMC, mind you," Graham explained as he leaned back against the stone. "He comes to every quidditch match and reads all progress reports sent to him…not because he cares, because he wants to make sure I'm following the path he wants me to be on. So, I'm not just hiding what I am from the school, but also my family. I have a feeling you're in a similar situation from what little you've said. My father might be a Death Eater, but I'm not. I don't believe for a minute the Dark Lord will care a knut for magical creatures beyond what he can use them for. I've heard all the propaganda spouted, and nowhere in pureblood supremacy is there a place for magical creatures. So, I might act like a Death Eater-in-training, but I'm really hoping you win, and not because you represent the light, who also has never done anything for us, but because you're one of us now. You understand when others just can't."
The two sat in silence for a minute as Harry processed. "Luna," he said with a smile to the older man. "Luna knows what I am. Dobby the house elf does too."
"Good," Graham nodded and fake punched Harry's shoulder. "Now, stop being creepy and hiding in alcoves. There's a perfectly good window seat that looks out into the lake not 5 meters down the corridor."
Harry laughed and started gathering up his books. "Ah, books on dark creatures…Any guesses as to what I am yet?" Montague asked in interest as he picked up the book Harry had been reading and passed it to him.
Harry shook his head and shrugged. "You're strong, powerful, and have an aura that screams steadfastness and immovability, if that makes any sense."
"Wow, yeah, it does. You can see auras?" The Slytherin looked at him in awe and surprise.
Harry shrugged again and smiled. "Erm…bigfoot?" He asked, not able to hold in a chuckle.
Montague grimaced and pulled Harry to his feet, ending with another fake shove. "Merlin's beard! Where did you come up with that?! Hell no!"
"Valkyrie?" Harry raised an eyebrow chuckling again.
"They're only women!" Montague threw his arms up in exasperation. "Salazar! I'm a gargoyle you dolt!"
Harry stopped laughing and stared. "Like the statues on the roof of the castle?" He asked in surprise. He hadn't read anything on gargoyles.
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