He closed his eyes when she pushed at him, and though it didn't move him, it did get him a bit angry, though that could have been energy from her as well. "And what happens if I hurt someone when I can help it?" he asked, standing up and walking to the other side of the room.
"I've killed before, Minerva," he spat then. "It's been four years and only one person has ever managed to track me down, and that was by accident. This crazy bitch of a tracker found me in Hogsmeade the other day, then dared to call me weak. I'm not weak!"
He yelled the last part and clenched his hand into a fist, but just held it at his side. Had he been at home, he would have punched something, but he wasn't so uncivilized as to break something that didn't belong to him. "I'm dangerous, alright? Is that what you want to hear? I'm more dangerous than I ever let on to you. . . because I didn't want you to know."
Sighing, he dropped his head and let his fist go. "I didn't want you to know what I've done." Then he raised his head, his eyes hard. "But maybe you should."