Who: Wayne and OPEN When: The days all bleed into one another here :-P Where: Azkaban What: someone please stop him singing Rating: probably PG for depressing Status: in progress
Moaning and crying, punctuated with the occasional scream. Such was the soundtrack of Azkaban. Sometimes Wayne would sit in his cell and pretend he was in a film. His feelings were not real, the people he cared about were not real so their suffering was not real, the dementors were merely men in black sheets who at the end of the day's work on set would go home to wives and children. The thick stone walls reinforced with curses were cardboard, cleverly textured and painted. He liked to imagine the film crew all there, the director barking out orders. He considered all the camera angles, and the make-up that made him look so gaunt and sickly. There was very little dialogue in this film, so most of all he liked to compose the musical soundtrack.
He closed his eyes and began to hum, forming a harmony with his nearest groaning neighbour. The groaning stopped. That happened a lot. Wayne was not sure if hearing him hum made them aware they were making a noise, or if they felt they were being mocked somehow. Wayne continued, nevertheless. Music never hurt anybody.
After a minute of humming on a level, he began to raise and let fall the pitch, making out a simple melody. He tapped his foot on the floor in a rhythm and began to put snatches of words to it. He could come up with more complicated lines later.
"Azkaban Azkaban I'm a prisoner in Azkaban."
He repeated this a few times before an unexpected noise made him come to a sudden stop: a voice.