It takes every ounce of self preservation to not look at him. "It wasn’t him," I start as I look Voldemort straight in the eye. "He...," I nod towards the werewolf. "...came to me once and did not take me here. He kept me locked up but gave me a potion, forced it down my throat. I recognised it by the taste, it was a normal healing potion, but it probably enhanced my magic, I felt it go through my body and heal every bruise and wound." 