You Can't Say You Love Me

The limp girl hanging from the ceiling, lifeless as a puppet whose puppeteer had deserted it, did not deter her tormentors. A curse that would have made the normally rambunctious Gryffindor writhe in agony just made her limp form sway from the end of the chain, in a strangely surreal and very creepy manner. Her hair partially concealed her face, which contorted in an expression of utmost terror and pain every time a new curse hit her unconscious body.

One of the tormentors, a short and stout little woman, cackled in joy at seeing her prey so lifeless, limp and unmoving. She shot curse after curse at the poor figure, cackling gleefully all the while as the girl swayed dangerously from the rusty chain. The chain that the unconscious girl dangled from also had rusty colored stains that were not rust, making them seem ominously like blood stains - which, in this case, was what the stains really were. None of the stains were from the girl’s body, for she had no cuts or lacerations as of yet.

Her torment continued.

The girl's pale features contorted, forming a grotesque image of pain that could be compared to the faces of those undergoing severe torture while awake - such as having their toenails and fingernails pulled off, one by one, with no spell or medicines to ease the pain, or similar to the pain one would feel when submerged, slowly, into a vat of a bubbling potion with many acidic properties. Her red lips, painted with the blood from her bitten tongue, opened wide in a silent scream, proof of the agony she withstood, with the agony that even she could not withstand.

Her flaccid body convulsed once more, a violent tremor that racked her small form to the very core, and would have shaken the resolve of tormentors less heartless than those who were tormenting her. The curses that were cast upon her sent ripples of pain through her body, and yet, not once, did the girl scream, or cry out in agony.

Even in the throes of unconsciousness, Ami Carson would not show her weakness.

Once more, Ami’s slack limbs danced with her helpless writhing, proving that she was as helpless in this instant as a puppet at the end of the strings. Ami’s body followed the directions of her puppeteer, in a disturbing dance of pain and suffering, with she unable to stop the process.

The next curse came from the short and stout male tormentor, his pudgy features contorting into a grimace that was meant to be a sneer, and pride at the work of he and his sister was in his eyes. The four hours they had spent there - including two while their puppet was unconscious - had made him thirst for screams, and he let another curse fly.

Amycus and Alecto Carrow were enjoying themselves far too much.

“What are you doing?!” a voice said, loudly and sharply, from the doorway. The cackling of the two faded as they turned to the two figures in the doorway.

“Why, Severus,” the female simpered, a wicked, evil glint in her eyes, “we were disciplining a bad, bad student. She is in detention, after all.”

“What do you think, Draco?” her brother asked, laughing. “It’s good that she got a taste of her punishment before she gave up on us.”

The pale, shaking Draco Malfoy took a step back, and then another. He looked like he was going to be sick when Alecto shot another Cruciatus curse at the limp girl and Ami’s face contorted in expressions of utmost suffering while her body was racked, once more, with tremors.

“That is enough!” Severus Snape glanced at his pale student, who had left the room to lean against the wall outside. “You will take her down from there. Now. From this point on, I would advise you not to…‘punish’…students beyond the reaches of their stamina. Am I clearly understood?”

“You take the fun out of things,” Amycus groaned, but he flicked his wand at the chains. The dangling girl would have fallen - hard - onto the solid floor six feet below had Severus Snape not cushioned her fall with a mattress.

“Take her to the Hospital Wing. Immediately,” Severus spat. “Cause her no more harm than what you’ve done already. I have other things to attend to. Come, Draco.”

They swept away down the dungeon corridor, Draco trembling all the while as he followed his Professor - his headmaster. Only once could he bring himself to look at the limp girl who had been magicked onto a stretcher and was floating away, in the opposite direction, with one Carrow on either side.

Despite the headmaster’s orders, Amycus and Alecto Carrow took the girl to the Gryffindor portrait, and let her body fall limply onto the ground in front of the portrait. Once they left, the Fat Lady called, frantically, “Mr. Longbottom! Miss Weasley! You’re still up waiting for Miss Carson, right?!”

A muffled, “Yes, what is it? What’s wrong?!” in Ginny Weasley’s voice came through the portrait.

“Hurry. They’ve brought her back…I think she’ll need Madam Pomfrey again! Oh, dear, this does not look good…”

The magicked stretcher had been banished, which was why Ami’s lifeless form had thudded to the floor unceremoniously. Moments after the Fat Lady had spoken, Ginny pushed open the entrance to the Gryffindor common room and asked the Fat Lady to remain open. She bolted down the corridor, then, in the opposite direction as the Carrow siblings. The other person, none other than Neville Longbottom, stepped out of the portrait hole only long enough to hoist Ami in firmly in his arms, ask the Fat Lady to close behind him, and take Ami in to lay her on the floor by the fire to ease the chill from her.

It took only moments more before Professor McGonagall once again burst in with Ginny and Madam Pomfrey in tow.