Voldemort did not know if he was screaming or not. He was unaware of what his body was doing, though he suspected it was writhing, as bodies subjected to the Cruciatus were wont to do. No, the only things he was aware of were his thoughts and the tremendous, fiery pain running through his soul. He shouldn’t have been able to even know his thoughts, but Lord Voldemort had battled through pain before. He had numbed himself to it before, and he did so now, isolating his mind into a small place, untouched by the curse running through him. He could not fully quiet the pain of his soul, but he could dampen it enough to think. Of course, in doing this he had surrendered control of his body, but it was a necessary sacrifice. One that would be over once the girl had left.