"Carrow," Alberic called, eyes looking into the empty basin of the Dementor Research Team's Pensieve.  His fingers traced the runes etched into the metal rim, contemplating.  It had been nearly half a year and the Dementor locked within the Department of Mysteries seemed to be growing weaker and more tattered by the day, having had no proper substance to feed off of for some time.  Which, in a way, had been their intent--to starve a Dementor into submission or extinction.  Only, Alberic was not done with it yet.  Their study of its feeding was still greatly unknown, and the mechanisms of soul transference far from understood.  It needed to be alive for both these things, and it needed new meat, as well.

Alberic attributed nearly all of this to staffing concerns.  For starters, the Ministry did not smile upon offering up its employee's souls.  Alberic had learned that one rather quickly.  On top of this, not even the Interns and New Hires--people so low on the totem pole they shouldn't even be deemed proper humans or employees--seemed far less forthcoming, much more hesitant in offering up even their memories of happiness for the sake of research.   It seemed the staff of the Department of Mysteries wanted things to remain mysteries.  Alberic dropped his head into the Pensieve, regarding the scene before him.

Birds were chirping. A young child and a father out on a lake in a wooden boat.    Alberic pulled his head out with disdain. These previously-gathered memories were not nearly happy enough.  Sitting for hours with your father in a secluded area?  Good Lord, they'd attracted a sorry lot of employees.

"Caaaarrow..." Alberic repeated, slowly.  He knew that boy, Janus Carrow, was within earshot, even if he skirted the area directly outside the research laboratory with great trepidation every time he had to walk past.  People seemed to respond to Alberic these days as if he was the Spectre of Death itself.  He may as well have been--if death looked like a banker. Bland and soul-less, Alberic's attire of black, pinstriped robes and bowler cap were the very token of unoriginality.  Which may well suit death.  It was no respecter of persons.  It was nondescript, unassuming, and usually far from grand or garish.  Death was quiet.  Death came on velvet feet. Death--Merlin, where was that boy?  Alberic raised his voice: "Carr--"but paused as he sensed a body in the doorframe of the laboratory.  Alberic didn't turn around, still stooped into the Pensieve, fishing for memories.

"There you are," he said.  Carrow was a relatively new hire--not even grown out of his spots--but he'd obviously been warned about getting too close to Alberic Grimm.  It was unfortunate for Carrow, then, that he had been selected for a small and elite research group.  He had little choice but to interact with the team leader.  Besides, there was no cause for such a fuss.  With the Pensieve method, the subject usually retained their initial memory intact; it was the Dementor which truly suffered, receiving the scanty benefit of an echo of a memory.  With a live feeding, the Dementor could receive true and direct happiness.  And with a live soul feeding... so much more could be accomplished.  If the Ministry had been supportive of his modest proposal... Alberic didn't quite see the fuss about it.  Carrow was, what, 19?  He would have plenty more years to make up those memories. 

He'd have to come up with more surreptitious methods.  Gamp had obviously managed it once.  Though Alberic could do without the casualty being the team leader, this time around. Perhaps someone from the maintenance staff?

"You mean to tell me..." came the protest from the door.  Alberic turned around to see that Carrow had folded his arms across his chest, lingering in the doorway, "that you don't have one happy memory it can feed off of?"

Alberic watched the boy.  Levelly, unwavering.  "No."

And, like they always did in the face of the Harbinger of Death, they gave him what he wanted.  Sulkily, yes.  But slowly, Carrow walked up to the Pensieve, pulling out a silver-like thread and dropping it there.

"Thank you, Carrow for your service." Alberic said with a smirk.