Her voice rang out softly through the cell. The striped rags that served as prison garb moved as the dirty and broken wizard shifted in order to glare at her, the steel grey eyes shining brightly from the dirty pallid skin of his face. His chin was more pointed than ever and his cheekbones were sharper than she’d previously thought. Permanent hunger had a way of showing the ugly side of a person’s bone structure. They were fed only enough to sustain life. It had been one of the changes she had hoped to effect once she was Minister — the conditions in Azkaban. Now, with the burning anger of extreme betrayal inside of her, she just wanted revenge and to be severed from the Weasleys. 