Disclaimer: The only Harry Potter stuff I own consists of robes, wands, and lightsabers. Oh, wait. Never mind that last one.
A/N: Wow. I know I can't apologize enough for how freaking long that took. But I hope the wait was worth it! Thank you, reviewers! You guys are great!
"Dumbledore, she's not what you think," George protested. "She's not evil, she's not-"
Dumbledore held up a hand to stop the flow of words. "George, sit back down and listen to me," he said calmly, and George sat heavily, looking defeated.
"Firstly," Dumbledore said gently, "this was exactly why we didn't want you to guard her. We were afraid, close in age as you are, she would use you as a tool, or as a sort of shield."
"She wouldn't do that, I mean, I'm sorry Professor, by Cambri isn't like all the other Death Eaters!" George was half out of his seat, angry at what Dumbledore was suggesting.
"George," Dumbledore said sharply. "Listen to me! I don't know what you has said or how she behaves around you, but I've questioned her, and I've gotten very close to her mind, and . . ." Dumbledore sighed, looking weary. "She's very devoted to her master, George," he said quietly. "There is nothing you can do to stop her from being a Death Eater. She is, as far as I can tell, happy using her incredible powers for Lord Voldemort."
Dumbledore paused to let this sink in. George, however shook his head. "Professor, I'm sorry. I can't let this go without more of a fight. Cambri is . . . there's just something good there. People like, say Malfoy, you can tell they were meant to be Death Eaters. Cambri just has something good."
Dumbledore stood, looking sad. "I am sorry, George," he said quietly. "I think though, that after all these years I am qualified to make an analysis. Cambri is brilliant, but she is also very, very cold. Whatever emotions she has expressed around you, I can assure you, they are calculated, and not as real as she would have you believe."
George knew he sounded like a broken record, but he felt like he knew Cambri. "She is better than them, Dumbledore," he said earnestly. "She's better than the other Death Eaters."
Dumbledore sighed again, then stood. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "I know that you care about her." George shook his head, too angry at Dumbledore's refusal of his pleas to answer. When he didn't answer, Dumbledore left, murmuring, "This has to be done."
Not very long after, Sirius walked in, followed closely by Remus.
"We've been sent to make sure you don't, ah-interfere," Remus said as gently as he knew how, then pulled up a chair, pulled out a book, and started reading.
Sirius sat down as well. "Look," he said, putting a friendly hand on George's shoulder, "she's playing you."
George looked up. "She wouldn't," he said, sounding only a little unsure.
Sirius shook his head, his eyes growing cold. "She's a Death Eater," he said bluntly, "and besides that, I've played too many people myself to not know what's going on."
"You're wrong." This time it was not George that spoke, but Remus. Sirius blinked in surprise.
"What?" he said.
"Sorry, Sirius, but you haven't seen her much," Remus said calmly.
"I've seen her plenty," Sirius said complacently, trying not to turn the conversation into an argument.
"I mean you haven't seen her without her mask on. I have, although it was accidentally," Remus explained patiently.
"And I-" George stopped. "We've talked," he said finally, blushing a little.
Remus hid his smile behind his book, but Sirius grinned. "Now I understand," he said slyly.
"No, listen-" George started to protest, but he was cut off by a sudden, quick scream that lasted for only a second but seemed to linger in the air for so much longer.
"That . . . that was her," George finally said, and Remus and Sirius both nodded slowly.
"Look," Sirius said, "I know you're both fond of her, but remember who she is, and who she's chosen to serve. Remember what she did to Koon, and what she and her fellows were planning to do to Harry."
George and Remus paused. There wasn't any way to respond to that. Neither was there any way to respond to the second scream that pierced the air a moment later.
Cambri hadn't meant to scream. The first time it was surprise and the second time it was because of agony. Although perhaps a background would be helpful.
She had been questioned several times before while staying at the Order, and, as she hadn't told them anything, she had been certain that torture wasn't far behind. So, when Dumbledore entered with a grim look on his face, and a wand and a potion in either hand, the only cause for surprise was that she was worth his valuable time.
The torture didn't take the form of either intense physical pain or incredible humiliation, which was what she was familiar with. Perhaps if it had been, it wouldn't have been so bad.
Dumbledore first forced her to drink the Veritaserum, which she wasn't worried about. She had drunk the antidote a few weeks ago, and since it lasted for two months or so, she would not be forced to tell the truth. It was true, though, that the longer she went without the antidote, the more painful it was to lie, but she could still do it and that was what mattered.
He had asked her several questions before he realized that she was fighting off his potion, then he raised his wand.
Cambri did not know what spell he used, but the next thing she knew, she was in pain. Not terrible pain, but a dull throb that started from the base of her neck and spiderwebbed through her head to reach her temples.
Dumbledore locked eyes with her. "What is Lord Voldemort planning?" he asked quietly.
Before she knew what she was doing, memories of discussing plans flooded to the surface of her mind, and the answer to his question formed on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed it, then screamed, falling to her knees and pressing her hands to her head.
A white hot pain had just exploded when she refused to answer, and the pain and shock of it all had been the cause of her reaction. She was immediately humiliated as the pain dulled enough to enable her to think, and her cheeks turned a delicate pink. She climbed to her feet.
Dumbledore asked her several more questions, and each one made the pain worse, until finally she was permanently forced down on her knees because she could no longer stand.
She was breathing hard, and trying even harder to conceal it. "I won't tell you, Dumbledore," she said, her voice cold with anger. "You can try all you want, but my fear of my master far surpasses the fear of anything you can throw at me."
Dumbledore paused in his questioning. He knew that this was true. He also knew, however, that he could not let this go. He kept asking.
Cambri was doing all right until, seemingly out of nowhere, Dumbledore asked her if there were any painful memories she could share. Images of darkened rooms and Malfoy and Richard sprang to the forefront of her mind. These images, which had long since been buried deep and had only been experienced in dreams, were just as fresh as if they were happening again. Cambri screamed then, the pain and anger and humiliation hitting her like a cinderblock.
She didn't scream at what happened next, although she dearly wanted to. Dumbledore broke down her defenses and entered her mind. Of course he hit those horrible memories first.
Cambri, sensing his hesitation and surprise, gathered whatever wits the torture hadn't touched and forced him out of her mind. She couldn't let him see her master's plans, and, what's more, she couldn't let him see her own memories.
For a moment, Dumbledore looked at her, surprised, then he took a step backwards and sat. Cambri didn't realize why everything looked hazy, then she realized that the pain was so great she was about to pass out. Gathering her strength again, she spoke through the haze.
"I hope you're happy." Her voice was no longer cold and icy with control and discipline. On the contrary, it was thick with emotion and pain.
"I am not," Dumbledore said, and when he didn't elaborate, she pressed him.
"Take this spell off me," she ordered, then paused. "Please," she added painfully.
Dumbledore looked at her in surprise, then flicked his wand and stood. Cambri fairly collapsed from relief.
"We will have to speak again soon, I'm sure," he told her, then left the room.
Cambri crawled up onto her bed and pulled the covers up over her head. She kept relieving the memories until she finally fell asleep from exhaustion.
A/N: Basically, this note is asking you, if you have the time or the incentive, to please review. Thanks much!