Her blond hair has been hacked off to a length of a few centimeters, unevenly and hideously, and she is frighteningly thin. Her eyes are surrounded by deep purple shadows, and she has bruises on her face and on her forearms, all he can see of her skin. She is surely wearing somebody else’s clothes – Granger’s maybe? – and as she lifts a spoonful of porridge to her mouth, he sees that her once beautifully-kept nails are torn and broken.