The Dark Lord had barely finished speaking when the Dementor glided forward, halting inces from the his face.
«Decadence-» called out the girl, more out of courtesy than out of worry.
The Dementor paid her no attention. Its head inclined slowly to the side, the breath of the creature grew colder and it inhaled deeply and sharply, smelling the soul in front of it.
The echo of an old, powerful and disapproving voice got tugged from the back of the Dark Lord's mind. Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness.
Then, as fast as it had approached, Decadence turned around and returned to the girl.
«I apologize,» she said distractedly, following the Dementor with her eyes as it moved past her. «...This is the first time I see Decadence approaching someone like this. Can I ask if it spoke to you? You'd be the second person that I know of it speaks to unprompted, except me and my family...» Her voice drifted of as she silently mused on the - honestly unsurprising, now that she considered it better - interest Decadence had taken in the Dark Wizard. After a moment of silence her attention got back on the present situation.
«I took myself the liberty of crafting a thing for you, Your Eminence. I hope you don't mind,» she said, fishing what appeared like a Muggle pocket notebook from her own pockets. «It is of the same type I crafted to communicate with my siblings, as we use owls for... other purposes. Much more discreet and difficult to intercept, even if still prototype.»
🦅
Voldemort held his breath, staring the dementor down as it approached. Granted, staring it down would have been easier if it had eyes to meet, but Voldemort merely kept his face passive. Eagle would not allow the dementor to - no. He would not allow the dementor to do anything. He did not need the protection of a sixteen year old girl.
Dumbledore's voice was a surprise. The dementor was communicating, wasn't it? Fascinating. So very fascinating.
"It spoke to me, yes," Voldemort murmured, his yes still on Decadence, even though it had backed off. "A voice, long ago, from an old nemesis - reminding me that there are fates worse than death. He is dead now. I am not. " He looked back to Eagle. "Perhaps it was an allusion to the fate of Erizkdis. Perhaps it was merely mocking me." He glanced back over to Decadence. "Perhaps both."
Voldemort allowed a corner of his mouth to raise in a bemused smirk as the girl revealed the notebook. "You are truly resourceful. I must admit you remind me of myself more and more each day. I was sixteen when I first came up with the true nature of the Dark Mark." He accepted the notebook, thumbing the pages. "So tell me, child. How does it work?"