Her mind was a display of fireworks. She was having one of her pride fits. She felt useful, she felt important. She felt needed. She was a stupid, stupid girl. A new image projected in her mind. It was the Malfoy twat, laughing mirthfully, there was a flaming red headed boy beside him wearing Ravenclaw robes sharing his laugh and then the third image came to view. A dark haired boy in Gryffindor attire, he was not amused, he was frowning. There was a distinct jagged scar running from his forehead cutting down his eyebrow and skipping his glassy eye just to continue on a fragment of his cheekbone. His other eye was emerald green, a very peculiar tone that reminded Tom of the striking colors of a certain unforgivable curse.