Disclaimer: Not mine. I just like to play with other people's toys.

A/N: Happy Holidays everybody!!!! I myself had a wonderful Christmas, and I hope you enjoyed your holidays as well! In a fit of holiday spirit, I'd just like to thank some of the people who have reviewed my story in the last few chapters:

Sweet 16 Movie Buff- You're right about the evil, monster side of Cambri. The reason she was able to surface was because Cambri isn't sure yet who she wants to be. Have I ever mentioned that I absolutely love to get reviews from you? They tell me specifically what you like and expect from my story. Thanks so much!

larka- Thanks for your review, and sticking with my story throughout my storytelling coma.

Helena & Phinea & Zevazo & Teen Prodigy of Ravenclaw- I already thanked you guys for your reviews, but thanks again. I love you guys!

cf8work4u247- You bring up a good point. I plan to delve deeper into that aspect of the story in chapter 12.

celtic elf- You are absolutely right. Cambri still does have a few tricks up her sleeve, and I plan to use them all. ;)

Natalie-Slytherin- I have you to thank for the rebirth of my story. Your review got me started again! Thanks much!

parissima- I know your review was forever ago, but I love all the questions you raise. It makes me feel good, knowing I'm keeping you all in suspense!

And, finally, here's the next chapter:

George woke up, rolled over, and sighed. It was 2:46. A.M. This was impossible. He was waking up every fifteen minutes. He looked over at Fred and was dearly tempted to wake him so they could perform some daring trick and he could get his mind off Cambri, just for a few minutes. He didn't, though, because some part of him didn't want to forget about Cambri.

Tonight was the third night in a row that he had dreamed about her. Dreaming about girls in general was okay -- hey, normal, expected, of a seventeen-year-old. He liked girls. He was supposed to like girls. But this girl was not just any girl.

And the third night in a row? Surely this was a bit excessive. Especially, well, especially over Cambri. He couldn't believe how pathetic he was. He'd been with plenty of girls. Why was she different?

The only thing that seemed plausible for his apparent obsession was the intrigue that came from Cambri being a Death Eater. But that shouldn't be grounds for an fixation; that should be enough to tell him to stay far, far away.

"What is wrong with me?" he demanded to the empty air.

"Tell me about your childhood, Mr. Weasley," replied a voice identical to his own. George sat up in bed and looked towards his twin, who was grinning at him.

"Fred," he moaned, throwing a pillow at the bed on the other side of the room. Fred caught it.

"No, really," Fred insisted, "tell me about it."

"What are you doing up, Fred?"George demanded.

Fred's face grew serious, or as serious as it ever got. "Hey," he said reproachfully, "you think after all these years, I don't know when you're awake? Or when you're having girl problems?" There was a bit of a pause. "This, I might add, is practically all the time, so you'd better be glad I'm patient with you and your specific area of idiocy."

"You know, for a minute there, I actually thought you were going to be serious about this," George growled at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," said Fred, waving it aside. "Look, see, I'm being serious. I want to help. You're no fun when you're melancholy like this," he said mournfully. "What's up?"

"Look, this isn't about a girl, this is about Cambri," George said, still irritable with Fred, and with the rest of the world for that matter.

Fred raised an eyebrow at him and repeated, "This isn't about a girl, it's about Cambri? You're sure that's what you meant, mate?"

"No," George sighed. "No, I meant, this isn't about just any girl. This is about Cambri. I'm afraid I'm having issues."

"Well, I've known that for the longest time. I'm glad you're finally admitting it," Fred said, his grin coming back sunnily to the surface.

"Ha, ha, funny Fred," George snapped, scowling. Fred jumped up and walked over to his bed.

"Look, I really am sorry, and I do want to help, but you gotta admit, this is one weird obsession you've got going on here," Fred told him, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

George sighed again. "I know it is," he told his twin. "The problem is, I don't think it's an obsession. I think it might be, well . . . love."

"Love," Fred repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about that? Love's tricky. I don't know if I can do love."

"I think I'm sure," George said pathetically. "I don't know; it's driving me crazy!"

"Remember what she said to Lupin, about how, she hated everyone and wanted to fry us all in oil. You know, that sort of thing," Fred warned.

George glared at Fred a moment, then sighed, and answered."I know, but why would she say stuff like that? I mean, she must have been driving him away for some reason, but why? When we first met her, remember how we figured she must have been one of the loneliest people in the world?"

"Yeah ..."

"She was so scared of us, just because we were being ourselves. She was starting to come out of her shell, Fred. She was . . . becoming a person, not just a machine Voldemort used."

"Yeah ..."

"And now, she's nothing. Even though I don't get to see her, I hear the adults talking. She doesn't do anything. She just lies on her bed and stares at the ceiling. Remember that dream she had, about a week ago, that made practically the whole house shake? It's like it zapped her of herself. She's gone. Dumbledore tried to question her, but she . . . it's like she's not there. She answers, but she's not there, and-"

"George, stop," Fred said sharply. George realized that he had sounded maybe a little more than a little frantic, and tried to compose himself.

"Look," said Fred yet again, "if you're this concerned about her, and if you really think she's not evil, or whatever, then you've got to talk to her."

"How?" George asked glumly. "It's not like they'd ever let me in her room. She corrupted me, remember?"

"Don't worry about that. Just be ready to go into her room at maybe, 10-ish tomorrow morning. I can give you a half hour if I really think it through," Fred said, then added, "Look, George . . . I don't pretend to understand whatever the hell you're feeling. I'm not sure I even want to, but . ." he paused. "But we're twins, right? And I want you to be . . happy, I guess."

George grinned at him. "I'm glad you're so enthusiastic, Fred."

"Hey," Fred said defensively, "you know what I mean."

"Yeah," said George, "I know what you mean. Thanks."

"That's what I'm here for, little one." Fred punched him, and George punched him back in the exact same spot, and they grinned at each other for a moment. Fred said, "I'm glad I don't have girl trouble like you got, mate," and then went back to his own bed.

George lay down, and this time he was able to sleep.

A/N: I know, I know. Cliffhanger, right? Well, hopefully, since that was what I was going for. Sorry for how short it was, but I wanted to leave it there for a day or so, just because I loveall of you so much.