Azkaban prison was worse than anything you could possibly imagine.
On my first day, I screamed.
The sounds around me were torturous.
The cool whips of the Dementors capes.
The crashing of the waves by the cemetery outside my tiny window.
By the fourth day, I'd learned to stop.
No more screaming.
No noises at all.
The dementors followed me when I did.
But they still followed me anyway.
They never left me alone.
By my second month, I'd learned not to ever think about Baby Sallow. If I did, they would come.
Then I would scream.
So when Baby Sallow moved around a lot, I banged my head against the cold stone wall to forget it.
By my third month, I imagined Baby Sallow wasn't there at all.
The movement in my stomach was a punishment.
When it moved, I banged my head on the wall harder.
By my fourth month, I didn't really feel the strange movement at all.
Maybe I was used to it.
Maybe it left me.
But I didn't scream.
Not anymore.
By my fifth month, the door finally unlocked.
But I didn't like it.
It never opened.
It was supposed to be that way.
I screamed.
"Olive?"
I recognised that voice.
It can't be real.
I was dreaming.
So I shut my eyes and let the familiar voice carry me away.
And I told myself when I woke up, I would bang my head against the wall again for thinking about that voice. It reminded me of Baby Sallow.