Nott, I
The look on their faces - Theo's, Tracey's, Astoria's, Daphne's, everyone's - couldn't be described. Sadness, shock, bewilderment, maybe.
Millicent could only feel one thing. Anger. Pure, deep, red hot anger. At him, for lying. At Tracey, for accepting it. At herself, for understanding exactly why they did it and why it had to be done. And, most of all, at the fucking purple haired pathetic excuse for a human being, gleefully shouting encouragement to the people sitting there with her friends' fucking fate in their hands.
She wrenched her hand out of Tracey's, wheeled around and barrelled across two rows of startled spectators to grab her by the throat.
"This is where you shut the FUCK up," she said, very calmly. "You know nothing about him, nothing about me, you know nothing about anything but your own pathetic little world and you're going to go back to it before I PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE."