Rachel knocked on the door from the outside, feeling extremely anxious and unsure of herself.

The two first-years happened to walk by on their way to class--and the stopped. "Thank you, lady!" the brown-eyed one cried out, smiling. "You're really nice."

"And pretty," the blue-eyed one added. With that, they ran off to class, hoping not to be late.

(Damn right. )

Rachel didn't say anything, but just nodded at them.

Professor Filch was in here with a student. Goyle. He proved himself worthy, somehow, so he was there to help with the detention.

"Ah, it's you." she said, glaring at him.

"Naughty naughty naughty. Well, we'll fix you right up!"

"You're disgusting."

Filch shrugged. "Well, let's begin. Hmm. What are some good old medieval methods that just WORK? Ah! Okay, Goyle, get out the rods. Heat them up."

"...D'oh, How?"

"Use your imagination, boy!"

"Umm.. okay! Where's a fireplace?"

"IDIOT! USE YOUR WAND!"

"Oh."

[what, didn't they just crucio them? D8]

[[Not yet. They first have to learn it in the class.]]

(Gosh, you'd get terrible BURNS from that.)

Rachel just stood there, staring down at the floor, desperate to hold back the tears.

"Just think, you're doing this for those two boys..."

Then, they took the metal rods and pressed them against her skin. Her arms. When they were burning hot. Not WHITE hot, but they could be compared to a pot full of boiling water.

Rachel could not hold it back anymore-she screamed out loudly, and the tears began to run down. She then swerved around and stared at Goyle dead in the eye.

"Is... is that all you got?!" she snapped. "I-I was expecting more!"

Filch smiled. "Would you like this for the rest of the week? Maybe we could burn you down to the bones. What waste your beautiful arms would be, then."