When Voldemort finally turned his attention to him, he met the other’s violently red eyes defiantly. When Voldemort stroked a long white finger down his cheek, the pain in his head exploded anew. He didn’t know what he looked like, but he knew what he felt like - a rabid animal full of pain and fury, ready to bite at the first opportunity.   I’m going to kill your fucking snake, and then I’m going to kill you  . The words had been forced passed his occlumency shield deliberately and Voldemort paused for a second, eyeing him with interest, before laughing softly and continuing to lecture his captive audience. He felt feral, ready to take Voldemort down with just his teeth at the man's jugular.  That snake was going to die.