Disclaimer: No poseo los libros de Harry Potter. Pero, me gusta mucho, y me gusta jugar
con los caracteres mucho tambien. (Sorry if I mangled the Spanish.)
A/N: And finally, what you've all been waiting for: a new chapter!
Fred absolutely would not tell George what he was planning on doing.
"Look, mate, I'm just trying to spare you some humiliation," he finally said impatiently after breakfast. "If you knew what I was planning, you'd be begging to be in on it."
"Is it illegal?" George asked, and couldn't help grinning at Fred's wounded expression.
"I cannot believe that you, my only real brother, would think that I would do something outside the boundaries of the law!" he exclaimed.
"I'm your only real brother now?" George asked, leaning back in his chair. "I thought we'd decided that Bill was related to us."
Fred thought a moment. "I suppose you're right," he said grudgingly. "Look, I'm just going to get rid of some of the worst decorations in this house."
"Get rid of? As in burn?"
"Of course not!" Fred exclaimed. "A fire would be much too easy to extinguish."
"I suppose you know what you're doing," George said dubiously.
"I suppose you know what you're doing," Fred answered.
They grinned at each other, and both said, "Good luck."
George still had no idea what Fred was planning, but when he heard the rather loud explosion, and saw the guards that stood by Cambri's door running downstairs, he figured that he had enough time.
He rushed up the stairs, around a corner, down the hall, and finally slipped inside Cambri's door. For a moment he just stood looking at the dark mahogany wood, and then he turned to face Cambri.
Obviously, a sedentary lifestyle did not suit her. Her hair was pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck, but it was dull and tousled from sleep. Her eyes had dark, worried bags under them, and they too seemed dull and lifeless. She was utterly too thin, and he knew she hadn't used most of her muscles in weeks. She was, however, sitting up in bed, as far as she could sit up in bed, and she was watching him calmly.
"George," she said, her hoarse voice dry and amused sounding. "How have you been?"
It was a sarcastic, bitter question, and there was no doubt as to who she blamed her current miseries on. George was about to reply in kind, when he noticed a somewhat desperate look, barely noticeable in her face. No matter what she said, she still craved human conversation, still needed some human kindness.
And all at once, George decided that they were all wrong about her. Whatever she had said or done, there was a reason for it. And all at once, he decided that he did love her.
"Cambri," he started, "I know you must be furious with me-"
She cut him off. "Oh, no, George, I'm not angry at anyone."
He stopped and stared at her. "You're not?" he asked, surprised.
"No," she repeated. "Not in the least. There's no room in me for anger."
He watched her carefully. There was something . . . off, something wrong here.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean, George, that I am too sad and I am too tired and I am too scared to feel anything else."
"Please," he said urgently, "Please let me explain. I doubted you, because of what you said to Lupin, but it's not true, now I know it's not true."
"George," she interrupted, "you don't-"
"I know I don't understand," he said, cutting her off, "I know don't, and I can't, and whatever. But I'd like to try. And . . . I'm sorry for doubting you. It's not fair for either of us. I'm very sorry."
He stood looking at her a moment, and then he went to her. "I know I'm stupid and . . . well, we seem so unlikely, but . . . maybe we could work something out. I think . . . I'm sure . . . that, well, I love you." He knew it sounded stupid and lame, but he didn't care. Leaning forward, George kissed her, and, almost surprising him, she responded.
As always, they just seemed to click when they were touching. She moaned softly. She wanted him to care for her the way he seemed to, but she knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that there was no way it could work out.
"Wait," she said, so quietly she couldn't even hear herself. He continued, gently biting the tender skin on her neck and collarbone. "George," she finally moaned, "George, please, I can't."
George pulled away, and stood, looking somewhat embarrassed. "What . . . what do you mean?" he asked.
"George," she said heavily. She didn't want to do this, but she had to get him out of here. She shook her head helplessly. "Maybe you should leave," she said, her voice a tiny whisper.
"What?" her asked, leaning forward so he could hear her.
"George," she said anxiously, her breath coming quickly now, "you have to leave here. You are in danger, please, you've got to leave."
"What?" he demanded, jerking back and staring at her. Was she crazy? What was with all of these bizarre mood swings? "What do you mean I'm in danger? I'm-"
And it was that precise moment that he was hit from behind with a Stunning Spell.
Malfoy stepped out from behind the door. "He's really quite devoted to you," he said, gesturing to George's fallen form. "That was highly entertaining to watch, by the way."
Cambri looked at Malfoy steadily, refusing to be goaded. "Just untie me, Malfoy," she said, he voice vaguely irritated.
"Why don't you do it yourself?" he asked, sounding amused. "You're famous at our headquarters for getting out of fixes like this."
She bared her teeth in a deadly smile. "Just untie me, you bastard, you know as well as I do that Dumbledore enchanted these ropes himself."
"Did he now?" Malfoy asked, walking over to the bed. "Why don't you ask nicely, Pet?"
Cambri's eyes narrowed. "You'd better get us both out of here, Malfoy, I mean it. Any minute now, they're going to come back."
"Why don't you Apparate out?" He asked, his voice smooth.
"My powers are gone-you know that. That's exactly why I can't get out of these ropes. They zap my powers," she growled.
"Then you really had better ask nicely," he said, smiling.
She took a deep breath, and said quietly, "Please untie me, Lucius. We need to get out of here. They'll be back any moment now. Please."
His smile grew. "All right then," he said, "since you asked so nicely."
"Thank you," she ground out as he untied her.
He pulled her to her feet, and she stumbled. He caught her easily. "You're looking much the worse for wear," he said examining her. "No matter, a few good spells, and few weeks of training should clear everything up."
Cambri sighed, looking away from him and down at George.
"Ah, yes, that reminds me. Should we be taking him?" Malfoy asked, obviously referring to George.
Cambri shook her head slowly, remembering what George had said. Did he mean it? I don't see how he could love me, much less want to . . . she thought. Out loud, she said, "No, he didn't see you, so he'll have no idea how I escaped. And they haven't quite let him join the Order yet, so he knows nothing of value."
"Still," said Malfoy, "he did seem rather devoted to you . . ." He smiled down at her, still holding her up.
Cambri shook her head again. "Let's leave him. He's of no use to us."
Malfoy shrugged. "Your call," he said. "And now that we've figured out where their headquarters are, we can always come back to get him if we need him."
She nodded slowly, and closed her eyes as Malfoy raised his wand and chanted the spell that would take them to the headquarters. As the world started to disappear around them, he said quietly, a smile in his voice, "By the way, our Master isn't entirely pleased with you."
And then, they were there.
Cambri's eyes were closed, and her ears were ringing with the residue of the spell, but she still heard that very soft, very cold, all too familiar voice say, "Cambri, where have you been?"
She shivered. It was not good to be home.
A/N: So that went pretty fast, right? Sorry, again, about the time it took to write. I've had a huge musical I've been doing that's nearly finished. We just had opening night, so I figured I'd celebrate! Please, tell me what ya'll think!