Will sat over one of his books, carefully studying the pages. The first term would start in a few days, and a little preparation couldn't be too bad, he assumed. Harry was in a bar, so Will had a little peace and decided to do something useful before going to bed early. After he had tried to get about twenty different poets in his head, including their birth- and death-dates, as well as their most important works, he decided to go out for a walk.
He wandered down the darkened main street and pulled his jacket a little closer when a cold breeze hit him. He tried to get as much fresh air in his lungs as possible before going back to the smelly dorms, when he suddenly saw a tall figure stumbling up the street. In the light of the dim street lamps he could make out that the person was clutching their left arm to their chest tightly.

Tom looked at Chris with a pleading expression. "I won't do it again! I swear!", he begged in a low voice, but Chris shook his head slowly.
"I'm sorry Tom. You knew the rules before you broke them. You even invented some of them. You fucking brought this upon yourself."
Chris's words weren't spoke as harsh as they usually were in this kind of situation. It sounded like he seriously regretted to do, what everybody knew would be the consequence of this kind of disobedience.
"Chris! Stop!", Tom yelled in panic as his more or less boyfriend started heating up a pocket light while Jeremy pulled up his sleeve to reveal a faint, old burn mark, a reminder of the last time Tom had acted against Chris's orders.
"Now, hold still", Chris said softly, in a voice that usually would have calmed Tom down, but right now it just seemed to make his state worse. There was nothing to distract him from the pain. No bad emotions that could give him the feeling to actually deserve and want to be hurt, but calmness and the knowledge that the burning would be the only pain his body would be able to feel.
Chris lightly traced Tom's scar, like he did so often in much more pleasant situations, then, with a sadness and pain in his eyes, that Tom had never seen before, he pressed the heated metal about an inch over the first burn mark.

Lenny flinched when the hot metal touched Tom's skin and an ugly burn sound was to hear. He looked at his older brother, who's eyes were widened by shock, but the rest of his face was pulled into a painful grimace. Lenny swallowed, unable to turn his eyes away. He knew, as soon as Tom would get his third burn mark, he would be an outcast. He couldn't let his face be seen in the town anymore. Ever. It's been their rule since the beginning, but nobody ever got three burn marks since Lenny could remember. He himself didn't have one at all.
The young man got teared out of his thoughts when he heard how Chris ripped the pocket light away from Tom's skin. The latter let out a small whimper, and the tear stains on his face were obvious. He didn't try to hide them, as he looked at Chris in a mixture of anger and sadness, while he clutched his arm to his chest. Then he walked off into the already dark street, without glancing back only once.