Well, if there was one thing that convinced her that he was going to continue to be untrustworthy, it was the way that he'd grabbed for the wand again. So far he'd grabbed her, bruised her arm and now he'd kidnapped her. Kidnapped her. She was angry, and she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him.

The sour look was met with one of anger and of immense distrust; Martha was worried about what he was going to do next if he got his hand on that wand.

While he seethed at her, Martha just looked impassively at the wound that he'd covered with his hand once more, trying to decide what to do. The demand for the wand wasn't one she wanted to deal with, and she shook her head.

"You should have thought about that before you attempted to kidnap me. Before you did kidnap me. You're supposed to know me, then you had to know that I wouldn't take very kindly to someone deciding to grab me like that!"