Dennis Creevey
Dennis' wails did nothing to ease the excruciating pain in his shoulder. The bastard had calmly and emotionlessly cut off his left arm. He clutched the arm to his body as if clinging to the limb would protect it or reattach it somehow. Dennis knew there was a spell to counteract the Diffindo, but with every mental resource devoted to his arm, he couldn't think of it.
"Please..." he heard himself plead with Lestrange, in a voice that sounded unlike his own. This was not the way it was supposed to go.
He looked past Lestrange's legs and saw a single figure skid to a stop in the distance. Though his vision pulsed with his rapid and labored heartbeat, Dennis could see it was his big brother down the hall.
Dennis looked him in the eye, begging him, imploring him to do something. But Colin was rooted where he stood.