Suddenly I'm furious again. Furious because she had the gall to burst into my sleeping quarters, if only for Lovegood's sake. Furious because she's still doubting my motives, even though it should be proof enough that I stand before her as fresh as a daisy and stained. Furious because she seems to despise me so much that she can't even touch me to look at my fucking Mark but prefers to use her bloody wand to do so.