"You  will  refer to the men in this household as  sir  or  master.  The time for kindness and fake courtesy is over. Do you understand?" The deadness of his eyes was so distinct against the brightness of his platinum hair. It was sad how a boy who had been handsome, by others’ standards, could grow up to be so grey.  Still handsome,  Hermione thought,  but lifeless. It was the kind of beauty she remembered from old statues in Rome. Noses had fallen off over time, eyes glazed over with lack of carving detail. He looked like a statue. 