Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. is kind of like the planet Neptune, a laptop, and an ice cream sundae, in the sense that I do not own all four.

A/N: I'm really, Really, REALLY sorry about how long this took me to write. My writer's block has been terrible ever since school started. Thanks for everyone who reviewed my last chapter. You make me happy inside, and please don't kill me for taking so long on this one!

Cambri supposed Lupin must have had a word with Dumbledore because, from that point on, she was untied and allowed to roam freely throughout her room.

On her first day of freedom, she barely stood at all; her legs had nearly atrophied from the absence of use. Not to mention the horrendous rope burns on her wrists.

She had been seeing a lot of Fred and George lately. She supposed that they were excited to have someone new to tease and play pranks on, although she wasn't thrilled to be their new toy. But she was rarely bored anymore. So when she heard to teenagers entering her room, she didn't bother to turn around from the bookcase she was examining.

"Are you the Death Eater they caught a month ago?" she heard a voice ask near her ear.

Cambri spun around, surprised, and found herself face to face with Harry Potter himself. She felt her natural defensiveness kick in, and she smiled haughtily and leaned against the bookcase, crossing her arms in front of her. In this way she had instantly built a wall between herself and Potter, both physically and mentally.

Potter seemed to sense this, though it didn't affect his stance or his glare. "Well?" he demanded.

"Well, what?" she asked, still smiling.

"Are you a Death Eater?" he repeated slowly.

"Sure am," she replied, shrugging. Internally, Cambri cringed. She really, honestly, truly hated acting like an insensitive jerk. But it was part of the job. "Why do you ask?"

"How old are you?" he asked, not bothering to answer her question.

"Same age as you, Potter," she said, allowing some of the contempt she was feeling creep into her voice.

That did it. They were now locked in a furious staring match. That had not been Cambri's intention, but she realized now that she had definitely sounded like she was challenging him. Suddenly, he smiled.

"Fred and George won't stop talking about you," he told her, still not breaking her gaze.

Cambri was so surprised at his sudden lack of hostility that she was tricked into replying. "Yeah, and I bet none of it's good, either." She wanted to kick herself. She even considered doing it, her reply was so stupidly polite.

Potter looked just as surprised at her answer as she had at his question. She felt a vague sort of satisfaction at this.

"Harry, come one, let's go."

Cambri nearly jumped, and peered around her opponent. She had all but forgotten that there had been someone besides Potter in the room. It was Ron, one of the many Weasleys. He was of no interest, so she went back to looking at Potter.

"What do you want?" she asked. Better to just cut right to the chase. It was too late to take back her abysmally human behaviour, so perhaps she could get him to leave instead.

"In a minute, Ron," he said, and then sat down. Cambri moved into the other chair her room offered, and Ron was forced to choose between the bed and the floor. He sat down where he was standing. "I want to know why you serve Voldemort."

Cambri managed not to flinch at the name, but she must have shown some discomfort, because Potter smiled. "What kind of a question is that?" she asked, mainly to buy time. No one had asked her that before, and she quite honestly didn't know the answer.

"An honest one," he replied, not missing a beat. "And I want and honest answer."

"Why?"

"Because Voldemort is evil, immoral, disgusting, lying slime and I'm curious to know why anyone would want to serve him," he answered without a change in his all too pleasant expression.

At the Death Eater headquarters, there were files on anyone who was considered a threat. The more of the threat they were, the bigger the file. Albus Dumbledore had an enormous file rivaled only by (surprise, surprise) the famous Harry Potter. At the headquarters, because of her considerable intelligence, Cambri's main job was to psychoanalyze all of the potential (and not so potential) threats based on whatever evidence was in their file. She could see now that she had drastically underestimated Potter. Not a good sign.

"Isn't the answer obvious, Potter?" Cambri asked with noticeable disdain. It was always better to be too guarded and defensive than too little. "Power."

"You're sixteen years old," he said in disgusted tones. "What would you know about power?"

"More than you'll ever know," she answered, raising an eyebrow, challenging him.

"I wouldn't be too sure," Potter snapped.

"No?" she asked calmly; glad to have at last gotten him angry. "Try dueling me sometime."

Harry scowled and leaned against the wall. "You know I can't," he told her irritably.

"Can't what?" she demanded.

"Can't duel you," he explained slowly. "You don't have a wand, and do you think I'm really dense enough to give you one?"

Cambri didn't answer, just looked at him with cool, steady eyes.

Harry sighed. "I'll take that as a yes," he said dully. "Well, I'm not."

She shrugged. "Whatever."

Mrs. Weasely interrupted another stare down by calling Harry down for dinner. He studied her for a moment longer before leaving with Ron. Cambri waited until they had descended the stairs before she sighed and fell back into a chair.

George managed to sneak up and see her later that night. "So," he said standing in the doorway.

"So," Cambri answered, standing.

"Harry got in trouble," he continued, despite her lack of interest.

"Whatever for?" Cambri wanted to know. "How did the great Harry Potter managed to get into trouble?"

George grinned, and sat down, pulling her into his lap. "Guess," he said.

"George," she complained. He'd done this before, and while it never led to anything, she was still uncomfortable with it.

"Guess," he repeated.

"I couldn't guess, just tell me."

He sighed. "You're no fun. All right, well, Harry got in trouble for messing with our pet Death Eater."

Cambri's face went still and she stood.

"Oh, come on," George said, reaching for her. "Don't you even want to know what they did to him?" Then, noticing her anger, "What? What did I do?"

"Pet Death Eater?" she asked softly, turning on him. Her eyes were cold and they were boring into his.

George shrugged. "It's just an expression," he said uncomfortably.

"Pet Death Eater?" she demanded. "I'm not your toy, I'm not your pet!"

"All right, all right, calm down. I'm sorry," he said, standing.

She turned away from him to gaze out the window, her stubborn pride not letting her forgive him just yet.

There was a long silence, before George said, right behind her, "Though you would make a pretty cute pet."

Cambri whipped around, most likely to tell him off, but it never happened. What happened was that George leaned in, right when she turned around, and kissed her.

She was so surprised that she let him for a few seconds, before she pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his arms still around her waist.

"Don't give me that. We could never be anything," she said, not unkindly.

"Why not?" he asked curiously.

"Because," she exploded, irritated with his false innocence, "because I'm a Death Eater, that's why. I enjoy torturing Muggles and killing off troublesome wizards."

"You do not," he said quietly. "That's not you, Cambri."

She gave him a skeptical look. "And since when are you the expert?" she asked.

"Oh, come on!" It was his turn to be annoyed now. "Why do you do everything Voldemort tells you?"

"Because he's my master, and don't say the name," she hissed.

"Voldemort," he half-shouted, and she giggled, the tension between the evaporating. "Volde-" he started again, but she covered his mouth with her hand, still laughing, although a bit nervously.

"See," George said, pulling her hand away. "We're perfect for each other."

"Oh, yeah, me desperately trying to shut you up as you shout this forbidden name. We are perfect for each other. How did I miss it?" she asked, but it was getting harder and harder to resist him. He was so close to her.

"You know what I mean," he said quietly, and kissed her again. This time, she kissed him back.

When they finally broke apart, George grinned. "Voldemort," he whispered.

"Shhh," she said. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Isn't it past yours?" he replied.

"You know, it is," she said, glancing at the clock. "I need to get to bed."

"Can I come?" he asked cheerfully.

"George," she moaned.

"What?"

Cambri sighed. "Go to bed, George."

And after searching her face for a moment he left, looking dejected.

Cambri had strange, but pleasant dreams that night. George's dreams were just pleasant.

A/N: There see, I made the chapter extra long, just to make up for all the weeks I've missed. Please, if you've ever posted a story on here, you know how good reviews make you feel. Well, they make me fell the same way!