Beverly prepared herself for the show that was about to commence. She was going to play this real good. Tears and all. Without a backward glance Beverly called on the person the Gryffindor Prefect had sent with her.

"Come on, the Hufflepuff need us to succeed." And fast. Or he might die. Could people die from extreme pain?

Arriving at the hut and standing in front of the door, Beverly willed her eyes to tear up. When one was the only girl in a household crying on cue ALWAYS came in handy. It got her out of any trouble.

She knocked on the door furiously, in which she really did tear up because it hurt. Merlin. Her poor, fragile knuckles.

"Sir, Sir! We need help! PLEASE!" she cried as if she was being chased by a Dementor. Gosh. This was fun.

Help. Help. Hehe.