Tyrin had both his arms held tight by Ministry Personnel . They escorted him down a series of dank, wretched corridors, leaking with sea water, milweed and mosses. Every cell had a prisoner in, most of them were zoned out, slobber dripping from their mouths. They had been deranged by the powers of Azkaban.

Some of them were knew and were rattling the bars silently. Then they came to a stop. There was a huge iron door infront of him, totally sealed off. It had a water turny thing. One of the guards turned and the huge door sung open revealing a space before a thick, glass wall.

Both wizards had their wands trained on the occupant. Grendel Thirstbroker, cannibal and viscious wizard. It came as a surprise to Tyrin that the monster was reading.

Grendel stirred his tea in his china cup and sipped it before putting down the Daily Prophet. He smiled politley at Tyrin. "I would shake your hand but sadly I am in Azkaban. Do not worry, I am a reformed Character."

Tyrin stared at him, his wand ready even though it would never get through Magic Proof glass. "What happened to my father?"

"Who are you?"

"Tyrin Yates!"

Grendel rose an eyebrowe and sipped some more tea. "Me and other Death Eaters killed him on the Dark Lord's orders. Harshing led the attack and took pleasure in torturing him to a mere whimp before hand. Harshing destroyed your father..."

"I know that!" Tyrin's temper was rising. "Was my father brave?"

Grendel hesitated. "Your father begged like a baby as soon as Harshing began. He wanted to sacrifice his wife instead of himself. He died a coward, begging and pleading with a mad man."

Tyrin stormed out, slamming the door behind him.