Revenge now seems the only way. The only option left to make yourself feel better again. To stop drowning in your self pity and finally do something about it. It sounds good and you are absolutely sure that it will feel a lot better. It will be satisfying but that doesn't necessarily mean that it will be right.
Because it won't.
You hurt him. So what? You went there and threw all his weaknesses at his face, everything he had confessed in you in front of the entire common room. You saw his face hardening with every word you said and that little vain coming out on his neck when he got angry.
He didn't do anything. Just sat there listening to your shouting and trying to make some sense out of it. He probably couldn't cause you weren't in a very sane state at the moment. His mouth was awfully closed but his eyes were screaming soundless questions to you.
"Why?"
And the worst thing was that even you didn't know why. Because there you were, doing it, making a complete fool out of him, embarrassing him, betraying him. You were doing what you had wanted to do since he hurt you like this. Hurt him too. Even more. Much more.
Then why the hell didn't it feel good? Why didn't it feel satisfying like you had imagined so many times it would? Why did it suddenly feel terribly wrong in you head? And in his eyes.
You kept going though. You kept saying things he had never told anybody else. You kept killing him. And yourself at the same time. Because for some insane reason you felt his pain, you touched his pain. You caused his pain.
Suddenly you stopped. Turned around and left. Just like that. Like nothing and happened.
What scared you the most was that a lot had happened. A whole lot. You had destroyed it. With your own hands. You. Because now there would be no chance at all that he would ever trust you again even if he forgave you. Even if you forgave him.
And then it hit you: Hurting somebody doesn't heal your own wounds. It makes them deeper.