not flashing that clipping about again, are you, ron?
yeah, c'mon, ron. we'll walk you off the astronomy tower and see how you come out looking.
but not clever enough.
it's a wrench giving it to you, believe me.
i solemnly swear that i am up to no good. george touches his wand to the parchment and intricate ink lines surface in the fiber of the paper, spread like veins. harry reads the curious words at the top:
ah.  moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. we owe them so much.
in his study.
does that a lot.
everyone.
what they're doing.
of every day.
the one-eyed witch on the third floor.