J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me. This covers all my chapters
Today was another long day in the sunny resort of Azkaban Prison, thought Auror Ralph Reynolds with a sigh. Prisoners 2164 and 1139 aka Harry potter and Bellatrix Lestrange were his only charges, yet this made life more bothersome than helpful. They had already started up on their usual routine of, wake up, tell each other off crossly, before each accusing the other of obscene things, not that Ralph would b surprised if half the things were true, at least on Lestrange's side. Why Harry Potter, the Chosen One, was locked up in Azkaban, he had little idea. But he knew better than to ask questions. That's what got him stuck working on Azkaban. A far cry from what he had first envisioned when he signed up to become an Auror.
'Morning Reynolds!' As always Ralph jumped at Potter's cheery tone. After levelling a glower at the Boy Who Lived he laced the food in his cell before moving on. This was a little routine they'd settled into. Potter always seemed to find making him jump great fun. Poor bloke. But it wasn't like he'd had much of a life. From what he'd heard Potter was as much as a victim as the half-giant who died, Hagrid or something like that. Still, it wouldn't do for him to say such things. Minister Fudge had ears everywhere.
