His hand already aches, vaguely, from when he'd punched the bloody locker. The pain spikes again when he hits Snape--but it's good, it clears his mind for a moment, and he doesn't even care when Snape shoves him off. He staggers sideways, thrown off, and then he uses that momentum to go for Snape again, grabbing for him--into the lift, though he's hardly aware of his surroundings.

The push, then--less physical, all magic, no matter how clumsy or off-kilter it is--it makes Sirius stumble back again, but the lift doors have closed behind him now, it's both of them, in the lift. A contained space, like it's some ring to fight in, and Sirius grins, hard, breathless, and grabs tighter at his wand, holding it steady.

"Are we dueling now?"