Grendal looked at himself in his cell mirror, in a suit with his hair combed back. This was not for him - why should he be the warden's pet just to get out early? He was going to be in Azkaban for a loooonnnggg time. The judge had passed a life sentence and there was no way he was going to be let out early.

Tyrin had visited him earlier, he had told him about his father.

Grendal lunged forwards and punched the mirror, smashing it to smithereens.

Someone laughed in the darkness, a boy. Tyrin. He muttered something and the bars before him exploded from their hinges. Tyrin muttered something else and the wall beside him crumbled to dust revealing the North Sea storms.

Grendal hopped out of his cell and placed a hand on Tyrin's shoulder. "Tyrin..."

Tyrin hushed him and handed him his crooked wand, black oak. Grendal held it and smiled. "Your father was killed only in spirit."

Tyrin raised his eyebrowe. "Your father's body is in this room," Grendal whispered. Tyrin began searching in Grendal's cell. "Tyrin..." Grendal whispered, his eyes full of tears. Grendal took him into a hug. "Your father's body is hugging you right now."

They both shared a tearful moment. Tyrin would have questions, Grendal knew. But now was not the time. He jumped out of the hole and plummeted to the sea wear two brooms were hovering. He landed softly, as did Tyrin. Grendal took off and spiralled towards the mainland with the storm growing in power.