"What if you just remove the legs from Draco's side of the table at dinner tomorrow?"
The group gathered around the table in Gryffindor's common room turned to look at Lee Jordan who, until he spoke up, had seemed sound asleep next to the twins.
Ron, determined to get the blonde Slytherin back after his mudblood slander, had enlisted the help of the twins to plan some sort of retaliation. He now sat with Harry, Hermione, the twins, and Lee, trying to hash out a battle plan. After several elaborate proposals involving ducks and a muggle substance the twins referred to as "tar," however, almost everyone at the table had appeared ready to give up.
Now their eyes sparkled with excitement as they watched Lee's head start to droop again. "That way all the food will end up in his lap," the boy slurred. "Can we all go to sleep now?"
George grabbed Lee and planted a loud, sloppy kiss on the boy's cheek, effectively waking him up and drawing laughs from the rest of the plotters.
"Ha ha. See if I help you again," the boy muttered.
"Oh, shut up over there, would you?" Percy's nasal voice carried easily across the common room from where he was studying, but it did very little to accomplish its goal of silencing the group.
"Thank, Lee," Ron piped up, ignoring his older brother wonderfully, and then looking over at the twins. "I don't suppose you two want to do the actual deed…"
George let go of Lee, and the twins looked at each other, mischief sparkling in their eyes as they turned to Ron.
"Afraid to get your hands dirty?" Fred asked.
Ron opened his mouth to defend his rarely used honor.
"Don't bother, little brother, we'll take care of it." George slung an arm around Fred's shoulders.
"I don't know," Harry said, adjusting his glasses slightly. "Won't that entire side of the table get dumped on? Not just Draco?"
Fred clapped his hands together. "Brilliant! This'll be great!"
"It took you this long to learn that all my plans are brilliant?" Lee mumbled without bothering to open his eyes.
"Yes, Lee," George rolled his eyes, "all your plans are--"
"Percy alert!" Ron whispered harshly, moving quickly to cover the twins' drawing of Draco wearing a dress with a feather boa around his neck and a puddle of tar at his feet.
The small group gathered around the table donned their most innocent expressions (except Hermione who continued to scowl disapprovingly).
Percy approached warily, apparently anticipating some sort of attack. When none came, he drew his brows together in confusion. "Okay, what are you up to?"
"Up to?" George asked naively.
Fred looked admirably distraught. "Who says we're up to something? We're not up to anything."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "Of course," he muttered, "what was I thinking?"
Ron giggled nervously and got kicked under the table by three different feet.
"Listen, Percy," George started, just a hint of acid entering his voice before Fred finished for him, "Why don't you go back to your studying?"
"Because I can't concentrate with you lot making so much racket. Why don't you all go up to your rooms?"
"Great idea, Percy," Lee mumbled, getting slowly to his feet and shuffling toward the stairway. "Let's all go to sleep."
"I think Lee's biased," Ron whispered to Harry confidentially as the group stood reluctantly and followed the boy up the stairs, each muttering rather angrily under their breath.
When George closed the door to his room behind him, he turned to look at his Lee. "Why did you give in to Percy? Our plans were almost finished!"
"Your plans *were* finished. Look, George, it's late. I'm tired." The boy flopped onto his bed. "There's nothing I want to do more right now than just…"
The twins stood motionless waiting for Lee to finish his sentence and, when he didn't, Fred raised an eyebrow. "Lee? Hello?"
"I think he fell asleep."
George scratched his head. "Well, at least *he* got what he wanted."
Fred dropped back onto George's bed and put his arms behind his head. "Now what?"
George walked over and sat down next to his twin, setting a hand on the other boy's stomach. "Exploding snaps?"
Fred chuckled, his stomach bucking George's hand with the movement. "Percy would have our asses at this hour."
"All the more reason."
"What about something more… relaxing?" Fred asked, still grinning softly.
George thought for a moment and then looked at his twin with genuine confusion. "Like what?"
After only a moment's pause, Fred sat up, capturing George's lips with his own.
The experimental kiss between the twins was cut short when George placed a hand firmly on Fred's chest and pushed him away. "What was that?" George asked, not removing his hand from his brother.
"What did it feel like?" Fred answered. "It was a kiss."
George shook his head and let his hand fall back to his side. "Did you just try to slip me tongue?"
Breathing rather rapidly, Fred cocked his head. "Um, yeah?"
"Aw, c'mon, George." Fred sighed in exasperation and looked away from his twin. "Haven't you ever wanted to try something?"
George blinked. Hard. "Not with *you*!"
Fred snapped his eyes back to his brother and scooted away from him on the bed. "With who then?" His eyes scanned the room and landed on the sleeping boy in the other bed. "With Lee? You kissed him downstairs."
"No! That was a joke. Fred, you're my brother!"
Fred looked hurt. "Just your brother?"
"No… Damn. Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?" Fred jumped to his feet. "I don't see anything wrong with 'this,'" he said, stalking over to his own bed.
"You're mental, Fred!"
"Thanks for the compliment, George. Good night."
George watched his twin pull the covers up over his head. "That's it? You're just going to kiss me and then go to sleep?"
Fred snapped the covers back down and sat up. "Well, you didn't seem too interested in pillow talk!"
"Good night." Fred pulled the covers back over his head, and George, at a loss of how else to respond, followed suit.
When Fred woke up the next morning, he was the only person in the room. George's bed sat conspicuously empty and cold beside him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he slid out of bed and into his robes.
Trying to smother his guilt, the redhead grabbed his books for the day and moved down to the dinning hall for breakfast.
Fred scanned the Gryffindor table quickly for his twin and, when he didn't see him, slid onto the bench next to Lee.
Harry looked up from where he sat across from Fred, sleep still clinging obviously to the edges of his face. "Hey, George. Where's Fred?"
The twin looked wearily up from where he'd begun rearranging the food on his plate. "I'm Fred."
Harry tried again. "Hey, Fred. Where's George?"
"I don't know."
That single, quiet admission brought silence to the entire Gryffindor table.
"Is he lost?" someone asked.
"Did he fall in the toilet?" As soon as Neville's soft voice finished the question, Ron smacked him.
While the small boy rubbed his head, George entered the dinning hall silently and took a seat at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table from Fred. Silence hung heavy over everyone as neither twin so much as glanced at the other.
"Okay…" Ron said eventually, looking from one twin to the other. When both pretended to be completely oblivious to their surroundings and each other, he turned to his best friend, "Harry, did you finish yesterday's potions assignment?"
Hermione tore her eyes away from George when Harry didn't answer. "I can help you with it,
Slowly, conversation at the table started up again, though it was generously interspersed with glances at the morose yet silent twins.
The rest of the morning passed rather uneventfully which, in and of itself, was an event. No practical jokes. No good-natured plotting. No twins. The two boys seemed to not even know each other as they continued to sit on opposite sides of each classroom and throw off everyone's unspoken seating arrangements.
As the day progressed and the situation did not improve, Gryffindors began to giggle whenever they saw either Fred or George, assuming the whole deal was the beginning of the biggest coup the twins had ever pulled. Everyone was sure it was a joke.
Except Fred and George.
When George sat down for lunch, Lee slid onto the bench next to him. "So what's the big joke?" the boy whispered confidentially, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. "I tried to coax it out of Fred during divination, but he wouldn't crack. You have to let me in on this, George!"
George looked up with a sigh. "It's not a joke, Lee. We had a disagreement last night."
Lee laughed loudly, drawing looks from some of the other diners. "Oh, yeah right. Fred and George are fighting? What a joke!"
"It's not a joke."
The icy tone shut Lee up momentarily. Then, "You're serious?"
Lee raked a hand through his hair. "Damn. What about?"
Looking down, George felt a slow burn creep across his face, and he was sure it was obvious. "It was nothing."
"You'd still be talking to each other if it was nothing," Lee pointed out. "Why are you blushing?"
A smile spread across Lee's face. "It wasn't about a girl, was it?"
George's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, but he thought carefully before he answered. "No, but that probably would have been easier to handle."
"Listen, Lee, I really don't want to talk about it right now, alright?"
Nodding apologetically, Lee watched as George stood up and left the dining hall.
One the other end of the table, Fred was fending off a similar barrage of questions from Percy.
"You two were fine when you went up to bed last night."
"I asked Lee what this whole thing was about, but he says he fell asleep while you two were still talking."
"He fell asleep in the middle of his own sentence, actually," Fred muttered.
"So what happened? You two haven't fought since…" Percy adjusted his glasses, thinking back, "You've never fought."
Fred shrugged again.
Percy was silent a moment, watching his younger brother sigh the most miserable sigh he'd ever heard in his life. "Do you want me to--"
"Listen, Percy, I really don't want to talk about it right now, alright?"
Nodding apologetically, Percy watched as Fred stood up and left the dining hall.
Hermione looked up as the door to the library opened and George walked distractedly inside.
"Hi, George," the girl said, "What's--"
"Sorry, Hermione, I just want to be alone right now," George said, his voice tired as he paced by the girl.
"Alright," Hermione muttered, watching the Weasley enter a secluded area of the library before turning back to her school work.
A few seconds later, the library door opened again and Fred entered, eyes downcast. She watched as the boy headed in the same direction as his twin. "Hey, Fred, I just--"
"Sorry, Hermione, I just want to be alone right now," Fred said without looking up.
Hermione watched with disbelief as Fred entered the same nook as George just had, and a thought entered her mind She could quite easily eavesdrop on the two boys and find out what was going one. She could succeed where everyone else had failed.
She grabbed her books and scooted to a closer table just in time to hear George's surprised voice.
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking for some peace and quiet. What about you?" Fred asked.
"Listen, George, can we talk about this?"
"Sure. You crossed a line."
Fred's voice sounded tight when he answered. "I didn't realize we had lines."
There was a long pause, and Hermione shifted nervously, wondering if they were finished already.
Then George's voice spoke again. "I didn't realize we had lines wither, but…" His voice trailed off.
"Have you thought about it since last night?"
George sighed. "Yes, Fred, but I still don't know where I stand."
"*Still* don't know?" Fred sounded skeptical, "You seemed to be pretty sure of yourself last night, and rather sure that I was mental."
"Oh, come on, now you're just whining."
"I'm not *whining,* I'm angry!"
George laughed, but he didn't seem
Fred snorted. "I hardly did that."
"Fine." George sighed. "I'm leaving then."
Hermione threw one of her books open and pretended to read as George exited the library.
A few seconds later she heard Fred swear under his breath.
By dinner time, all the Griffindors were on edge, certain something was going to explode within the next five minutes. Whether that something was going to be the Slytherin's table as planned or the twins themselves, no one was sure. Hermione slid onto the bench on Ron's left and beckoned Harry to lean in from the right. "I have some info on Fred and George," she whispered harshly, "but I need some help deciphering it."
A worried look crossed Harry's face, but Ron's eyes lit with excitement. "Finally! They always have stuff on me, it's about time I got them back!"
"Ron, I doubt you'll want to use this for blackmail. They're likely to join forces again for just as long as it takes to kill you."
"They really are fighting, then?" Harry asked, taking the situation a bit more seriously than his best friend.
"Well, from what I heard…" Hermione continued to relay everything she had heard in the library as the rest of the Griffindors filled into the dining hall and began to eat.
When she finished, Ron raised an eyebrow, sure he had misheard his friend. "Fred *took advantage* of George?"
Hermione shrugged, not understanding the shocked expression on the redhead's face. "I'm just repeating what they said."
"You have no idea what that implies, do you?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between his friends' confused faces.
Slowly, recognition crept across Harry's face. "No. No way. Fred and George!?" he squeaked, his eyebrows migrating up into his hairline.
Hermione looked over at Harry. "What? I don't get it."
"You don't want to," Harry mumbled, shaking his head before turning to Ron again. "Is this sort of thing normal in the wizarding world?"
"No more than in the muggle world," the redhead answered, unable to tame the smirk that covered his face, "but you know Fred and George. They couldn't conform if they tried."
"Apparently just Fred," Harry mimicked.
Ron took a drink and then wiped his mouth. "Nah. George too. Just give him some time."
Hermione continued to look at her friends. "Some time for *what?*" she asked with exasperation, knowing the question would remain unanswered.
"Hey, Ron," Fred threaded through the students in the dining hall and dropped down next to his brother. "I don't think the whole "Slytherin Revenge" plan is going to work out tonight unless you do it yourself. Mr. I-think-my-twin-is-mental over there doesn't seem very open to working with me right now."
Ron propped his elbows up on the table. "You know, Fred, maybe you just came on a little too strong. Scared him off."
"Well, I obviously scared hi off, but…" The sentence ground to an uncomfortable halt. "What are you talking about?"
Strong hands wrapped around Ron's throat before he could apologize (not that he'd been planning to).
"Who told you?"
"Someone overheard you two in the library. Harry and I are the only ones who know what's going on. I swear!"
The grip loosened. "Why should I believe you?"
"I'm your brother."
The grip tightened.
"I have a bag of Every-Flavor Beans under my bed!"
Fred let go of his brother and dusted off his hands. "Not anymore you don't," he said and then sighed. "Has George said anything to you, Ron? Even implied anything? 'cause I'm ready to give this whole thing up and go back to just being twins."
Hermione looked confused. "They're not twins anymore? They
certainly look like
Harry clamped a hand over the girl's mouth. "We're gonna go talk to Seamus and Dean. You two have fun."
As Harry dragged the girl away, Hermione could be heard muttering, "But I don't want to talk to Seamus and Dean. Why won't you tell me what's going on?"
Once the two were gone, Fred turned back to Ron with hope and asked again, "Has he said anything to you?"
"Not a word."
Fred groaned and dropped his head onto the table. "I don't even know what he's thinking anymore," he said into his arms. At least, that was what Ron *thought* the muffled voice said.
"Do you want me to talk to him?" Ron asked, unsure of what good he could do, but *really* wanting to see Draco burned (and knowing it wouldn't happen without the twins).
"No." Fred's head popped up with the firmly spoken word. "George will *never* get over this if he knows I talked to you! He thinks everybody will… will…" A look of confusion crossed the twin's face. "Why are *you* handling this so well?"
A sheepish grin crossed Ron's face as he tried to control a blush. "To be honest, I thought you two were already… umm… you know. Ever since this summer when I walked in on you two 'wrestling.'"
"We really were wrestling."
"It sure didn't look like it…"
It was Fred's turn to blush.
"Listen, Fred, I'm going to talk to him. See if I can figure out why he's getting so worked up about the suggestion." Ron leaned in with a raised eyebrow. "It was just a suggestion, wasn't it?"
"I didn't take advantage of him, Ron."
"Just checking. Dinner's almost over, so I'll see if I can corner him in the commons tonight."
"Ron, you're a saint, but if you fuck this up I'll kill you."
Ron's smile faltered. "What constitutes as 'fucking it up?'"
"Just figure out what he's thinking without pissing him off more."
Ron nodded awkwardly.
The Griffindor common room was uncharacteristically silent, the heavy mood scenting the air enough that when Professor McGonagall entered to check on the students, she coughed once in suspicion before pausing to look with worry at each of the children.
"Alright," she said, adjusting her large glasses, "What's going on?"
Everyone looked up sharply from their books before glancing nervously at each of the twins positioned conveniently on opposite sides of the room.
The was an instant of prolonged silence before Percy's voice
cut through. "We have no idea, and that's
McGonagall looked confused. "I'm afraid I have no clue what you're talking about."
Both boys leapt to their feet and threw their arms out, pointing in the general direction of each twin. Fred and George made eye contact briefly before snapping their eyes back to their books.
"Fred. George." The professor began, crossing her arms over her chest. "Would either of you care to explain?"
When the silence became too much to bear, Ron leapt to his feet, knocking all his papers off his lap onto Harry (who looked none too pleased. "Professor, may I speak to George alone?"
George's eyes swung to his little brother, suspicion drawing them into a tight squint. "Why?"
"Well, I just thought maybe… Ummmm, I need help with…" A
light sweat broke out on the boy's head as he fumbled for an excuse. "You know,
that thing with… Fred said
"Did he?" George said, cutting Ron's sentence off and turning to his twin with a raised eyebrow.
"Very tactful, Ron. Thank you." Fred mumbled.
Lee, still standing, threw his arms up in the air to get the attention of the room. "Wait, wait! Ron knows what's going on?" He dropped his arms to his sides. "Why did you tell him and not me?"
George smirked. "Yes, Fred, why did you?"
"Lee, I'm sorry," Fred turned to the black boy, hi sincerity obvious. "Some things are just better kept between family."
"That seems to be your reigning philosophy lately."
Fred whipped around to look at George, the biting comment bringing a blush to his freckled cheeks. He was just opening his mouth to respond when a voice from across the room interrupted him.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"You're no family, Percy," the twins answered in unison before they could stop themselves.
A hopeful silence followed the comment as the room watched, all pretenses of working abandoned as students lounged in their chairs for the show. The tense muscles of the twins, however, spoke of their continued anxiety as they stared venomously at each other.
Professor McGonagall, still standing next to the door, looked more confused than when she'd first entered. "I'm sensing some tension," she said tentatively, looking at each of the twins in turn. "Fred, George, I'd like you two to come down to my office, please. The rest of you can get back to your work."
The twins grudgingly shoved their papers into their bags and stalked past McGonagall and through the picture, exact copies of smothered anger.
Professor McGonagall took one last look at the students left in the room before following Fred and George out.
The second the Griffindors were left alone, all eyes swung to Ron, Percy and Lee already stalking across the room to stand over his shoulders.
"So, dear brother," Percy began, an entirely uncharacteristic predatory look on his face.
"Care to clue us in on the mystery?" Lee finished, clamping a hand on the redhead's shoulder to keep him from standing.
Seeing the conviction slipping from Ron's face, Harry came to his defense. "You don't have to say a word, Ron."
Suddenly, all eyes swung to look at Harry.
"Don't you want to find out what's going on?" Percy asked.
"Or do you already know?" Lee divined, squinting at Harry.
Harry and Ron looked desperately at each other as the crowd of Griffindors began closing in on them.
The door shut behind Professor McGonagall with a muffled click as Fred and George stood nervously in the center of her office. They watched silently as the woman moved around her desk to sit and motioned for them to take two of the chairs facing her.
George dropped into his with a quiet humph, and crossed his arms over his chest, determined not to say a word about personal matters and to get himself out of the room as quickly as possible.
The professor cleared her throat. "Well, it seems the impossible has happened, and you two have had a disagreement of some sort… Would you care to fill me in?"
George glanced at his twin, but Freed seemed more amazed by the worn pattern of the carpet than the question.
"It's really rather private…" George said, hoping the unspoken request for an end to the questions would be honored.
"So I gathered in the common room," McGonagall said, folding her hands gently on top of the desk. "Normally I wouldn't pry," she continued, "but you two are causing a disturbance for the entire house."
"It's not our fault that they're nosy sons-of
The professor lowered her glasses on her nose. "You'd do best to stop that sentence right there, Fred."
"I was going to say wizards."
"I highly doubt you were."
Fred's mumbled apology was barely audible.
George began wringing his hands as his mind strayed from Professor McGonagall to the redhead sitting next to him. Fred had kissed him. That concept, as alien as it had seemed at first, had repeated itself so many times in George's head that it no longer even phased him.
Fred had kissed him, and he'd enjoyed it. Ah, that statement caused a twist in his stomach. The kiss had surprised him, come seemingly out of nowhere, but he had enjoyed it. If Fred had just ask him, for once in their lives realized that they *don't* always know what the other is thinking, then maybe George wouldn't have been quite to surprised and they would still be talking.
And maybe it never would have occurred to George to call Fred mental.
"If I leave the office for a moment, and give you two some time to talk this out in private, will that help?" McGonagall looked desperate, flitting her eyes from one impassive boy to the other.
"I don't know." Fred scratched his head and took a quick look at George. "My brother doesn't really like to try things unless someone assures him ahead of time that it's a good idea."
Maybe Fred was mental.
George jumped to his feet, something between a growl and an expletive escaping his mouth before he stalked out of the office.
Professor McGonagall looked worried, but Fred merely shook his head. "We need to figure this out on our own terms," he mumbled, following his brother out the door.
George reached the Griffindor tower first, stalking right past the crowd of students in the commons and up the stairs to his room. Fred followed a moment later and didn't even pause when he heard Percy yell, "Twins are back," and saw Lee drop Ron from where he was holding him upside down.
"I'll tell Mum about the garden gnome incident!" Percy's voice was rushed as he let go of Harry's ear and tried desperately to get Fred's attention.
The twin's reply of "Shove it," was all that was said before he disappeared up the stairway after George.
Fred lingered a moment with his hand on the doorknob of the room before taking a deep breath and stepping inside.
The curtains of George's bed were drawn closed, and Fred hesitated again, staring nervously at the heavy cloth surrounding his twin. Closed curtains meant George wanted privacy, but that message had never before been directed toward Fred. Swallowing his pride, Fred ignored his brother's request and slid through the barrier.
His eyes took a moment to adjust to the muted darkness inside, but the way George was refusing to look at him was obvious immediately. "George, can we talk?"
The other boy looked up, his expression completely blank. "You didn't want to talk five minutes ago."
"I didn't want to talk in *McGonagall's office.*"
George sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Alright. Talk."
"I want my twin back," Fred said, a pleading note entering his voice. "This is ridiculous."
Both boys were silent for a moment, contemplating their situation. One of them was going to have to give in, that was obvious. Fred decided to swallow his pride one more time and cave. He'd said it to Ron, he was ready to give the whole thing up just to get back his other half.
"George, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just assumed…" he looked down at his hands. "I just want you back, with any limits you want to set…"
"Apology accepted," George answered, but his tone remained hesitant, stopping Fred from giving him a thank-god-it's-all-over hug.
Fred narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong?"
"I owe you an apology too, Fred… for calling you mental and…" George swallowed hard, unable to make eye contact with his twin as he forced the words out, "…and for not thinking about it."
Fred sniffled. "For not thinking about calling me mental?" he asked curiously.
"Very funny. You know what I meant."
"I don't think I do," Fred answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Vocalize it for me."
"Okay. I think twins…" The word trailed off, leaving
George's mouth hanging open as he tried to think of the right words
A gentle, understanding smile settled on Fred's face. "Really? Are there actions?"
George caught on to the other boy's game. "maybe," he chuckled, leaning in for the kiss he'd cut short the day before. This time he didn't hesitate when Fred's tongue brushed his lower lip, but opened up to let his twin explore his mouth, reveling in the new taste. He didn't flinch when Fred's hand slid around his waste to flatten across his lower back, but allowed his own hands to drift up into the other boy's hair and draw him in closer.
The kiss lacked the fear and hesitation of his predecessor and left a lingering sweetness in the twins' mouths as they slowly drifted out of its depths.
Fred sat back with a goofy grin and appraised the other boy. "I think it went better that time," he said, unconsciously licking his lips. "What about you?"
George nodded fervently. "Oh, it definitely went better that time, but that's certainly no reason to stop…"
"Of course no! What if it can be better still?"
"If we stop now, we'll never know."
Fred grinned. "So for all practical purposes
George was just beginning to retaliate when he head the door to the room open.
"Alright, this has gone far enough!" Percy's voice permeating the curtains surrounding George's bed sounded angry, and the twin's figured his face was bright red. Maybe, just maybe, the little vein on his forehead was even sticking out a bit.
"Fred… George… we just want to help you work this disagreement out…" Lee's voice came through with an undercurrent of calm concern, but the twins knew better than to trust that. Lee prided himself on being quite a smooth-talker when he put his mind to it, as he no doubt had for the current situation.
"What are our options?" Fred whispered harshly to George.
The other boy's answer was hurries as he heard footsteps beginning to cross the room. "Stay here and answer a hailstorm of prying questions, or run for it."
"I say we run like hell."
George grabbed Fred's hand and shot up off his bed, pulling the other boy with him. "Don't know what you two are talking about." George said hastily, making straight for the door and past the two boys walking toward him.
"George and I have never fought in our live!" Fred's comment was punctuated by the slamming of the dormitory door behind him, leaving Lee and Percy staring at the aged wood.
Lee scratched his head distractedly. "Huh."
"Well, I'm glad they worked things out," Percy said, nodding as though he had brought the twins back together. After a moment of unjustified gloating, however, his face darkened. "I suppose this means I'll have to keep an eye out for their juvenile pranks again, though."
Lee turned to look at him. "Juvenile pranks? Those two," he gestured vaguely toward the closed door, "are masters of their art! There's nothing juvenile about it!"
Percy looked skeptical. "Putting frogs in someone's bed is and art?"
"If done correctly, yes."
"Oh, this is nonsense," Percy scoffed.
"Maybe you're nonsense."
"What? Lee, that didn't even
"Oh this is ridiculous." Percy stormed from the room, leaving Lee standing alone in the center.
Dusting off his hands triumphantly, the boy turned to walk to his bed when something strange caught his eye. Peering through the slit curtains of George's bed, Lee raised a questioning eyebrow. "Why on earth are the sheets all rumpled?"