“Ah, yes. The brave, chivalrous Gryffindor and the strong, loyal Hufflepuff. You must feel so proud, flinging yourselves into harm’s way to save the fair maidens from a fate worse than death. But, if you are determined to make examples of yourselves, I can accommodate you.”  Snape was practically salivating as he released Hannah Abbott and Luna Lovegood from the clutches of the Carrows. 

                    Susan gasped as Ernie and Neville were manacled and pulled towards the wall behind the teacher’s table, pressed flush against the cold stone wall under the graffiti they were being punished for writing.  Her heart began to beat faster as the Headmaster flicked his wand, stripping both boys bare to the waist.  Her eyes were wide, and she could feel the howling tempest taking root in the pit of her stomach, but on the outside, she remained silent, her shaking body the only reaction she was unable to hide. 

                    She felt Hannah’s tight grip on her elbow as she watched Mr. Filch ready his whip.  He had waited for so long for the day he could flog the students. She swallowed hard.  She had always thought it would be Fred and George Weasley.  Who would have expected the first floggings at Hogwarts in probably a hundred years would be Hufflepuff Ernie Macmillan and Gryffindor Neville Longbottom?

                    She stared at Ernie’s bare back as Mr. Filch began with Neville.  She stirred the empty porridge bowl in front of her with a spoon, thinking back to that time in second year when Ernie helped her with the injured rabbit.  She couldn’t believe that someone like him could be so caring and gentle with an animal so small and fragile.  The way he held the bunny had showed Susan his big heart that, since that day, she had longed to capture. 

                    When the rabbit had come through its terrifying ordeal relatively unscathed, she had thrown her arms around Ernie’s neck, and even though he wasn’t much bigger than her at twelve, he was so caught up in her excitement that he had lifted her right off the ground with a hug that had twirled her around in circles.  She had laughed, kissing him sloppily on the cheek, and when he had set her down, he was laughing as well, his hazel eyes shining in the morning sunlight.

                    She loved him completely, but he barely saw her as more than a friendly smile at meal times or in the common room. He was always dating someone or another.  Susan thought she had a chance in fifth year when he stopped dating Alicia Spinnett, but he was made Quidditch captain after Cedric had died and he was a Prefect, and that and Quidditch consumed him that year.  They had become good friends, but she kept her distance when he began to date Morag MacDougal the next year. 

                    Sharing a dormitory with her wasn’t easy for Susan.  Morag talked about Ernie often, regaling the other girls in the dorm with their escapades. She spared no details, much to the other girls’ delight, but for Susan, it was all too painful.  She would sometimes cry herself to sleep when Morag would go on and on about Ernie’s body and how good he was in bed...or under the Quidditch stands, for that matter.  Susan didn’t know if Morag knew of her feelings for him, but as she lay in bed, sometimes weeping, sometimes wondering how long it would take, or even if Ernie would ever notice her.

                    The crack of the whip brought her out of her reverie, and she quickly wiped her moist eyes.  She watched in horror as Ernie’s back was split open, his cheek pressed against the stone wall, teeth clenched as hers were, fists balled as hers were, in silence as she was.  Her breathing was raspy, and she wanted to take the pain from him now.  She wasn’t surprised that he’d remained silent through each crack, the first and then ten, and twenty, then thirty, ending with forty lashes of the whip. 

                    Mr. Filch was grinning and as the whip came up time and time again, the blood flying from the end, splattering the wall between the two boys’ heads, splattering the words they had placed there: Remember Cedric Diggory and Long Live Harry Potter.

                    Susan watched, and when everyone filed out of the Great Hall to go to classes, she remained and was the last to leave.  She offered her help to Madam Pomfrey when she attempted to check on them, but Susan was refused and turned away, despite her nursing ability.

                    She stood beside Madam Pomfrey for a moment more, looking directly into Ernie’s eyes.  She tried to offer him her brightest, most reassuring 'see-it-wasn't-that-bad smile, and although he didn’t return it, she could see in his eyes that he appreciated her presence.

                    Susan spent that first night with Hannah and Professor Sprout in their common room, peeling roots and mixing stems and leaves and filling vials with this or that, stirring the cauldron as it heated.  The boys would be released soon.  They couldn’t stay up there much longer.  How much more could they really take?  They would need potions to dull the pain and ointments to close the wounds on their backs and to heal the scars.   

                    The women already knew that many of those scars would never fully go away.  They were too deep, and already had been left too long.  When the last bottle was filled, the three witches placed them in the hidden compartment behind Helga’s portrait and they went to bed, hoping that the morning would bring relief to their House as well as Gryffindor.