‘They’re getting hungry,’ said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap. ‘Dumbledore won’t let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up … I don’t think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch pitch. All that excitement … emotions running high … it was their idea of a feast.’ ‘Azkaban must be terrible,’ Harry muttered. Lupin nodded grimly. ‘The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought.
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