Her fawny eyes darted away, needing to focus on something else, and that's when she saw him.
Him.
She locked on to his icy-cool glare and felt something in her soul snap.
She didn't remember sprinting over to him, everything was blurry and fast. When she was close enough, she drew back her balled fist and rammed into his face, hard enough to scorch her knuckles. She felt a feral growl vibrate in her throat, and drew her fist back again, the blood slithering down his chin and across her fingers no where near satisfying enough. She wanted to pound his face until it was unrecognisable, until it stopped reminding her of what he'd done.
But McGonagall's spell dragged her to the other side of the room. And she was screaming again.