Bubble, Bubble, Double Trouble PV George Henry Closed

George had never been a star student in potions. It involved far too much following directions for his tastes. Yes, yes - he could follow directions in the more applied magical classes, like Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but with potions, there was no... pop. Nothing that made it satisfying right when you did it. For potions you needed patience and focus, which were two things that George rarely had in great quantities. Professor Wickham-Deakin had worn her patience out with him, which was a shame, considering she was now his head of house. This did, however, come with a silver lining. The new professor, Maebh, had no bad impression of him. This was his chance to redeem himself.

But the fact of the matter was that he was rubbish at actually doing his potions in potions class. He undoubtedly found ways to distract himself through the clever use of folded parchment, talkative classmates, and an overactive imagination. At least he could cut out one of those. Potions lab usually wasn't as active on a Monday afternoon, as not much homework had been assigned by then, and few were inclined to get ahead...

Except Jack, apparently. George had seen Jack in a few classes between their summer bonding experience and now, though their interactions were usually limited to whispering, throwing little scraps of paper at him and passing notes until he got scolded. "Hello, Burnett," George said, emphasizing the other boy's surname as though they were bitter rivals crossing paths once more. Contrary to his tone, George set up shop at a cauldron just beside the other boy. Blissfully unaware that he was intruding upon the other boy's private time, he began unpacking his ingredients and his textbook.

Jack would likely notice that he seemed to be using a textbook for two years prior. George wanted to get up to scratch in potions, but he was far below scratch. He'd completely failed to brew the Calming Draught in his second year, instead making the wizard equivalent of an emotional energy drink which sent him through all five stages of grief before delivering him to the nurse's office. It was a shame, because these days, he could really use a calming draught.

"Calming Draught," he said aloud to Jack, preempting the likely question. George looked across at Jack with a look of expectation - he'd shared his, and now Burnett had to do the same, under his Hufflepuffian ideal of fair play. He felt this needed no explanation considering the first time they'd met this year, George had been full-on bawling in the grass. "Could use it considering... everything. How has Hogwarts been treating you? I had a dream about you last month - not like, a weird one - I did dream divination about it - hold on, let me remember what it was... it was funny - you'll like it..."

George stopped in his setup of the potion equipment to dig in his satchel, pulling out a glittery little notebook which was undoubtedly a diary. Last year it would have been a journal, but after dressing up as a Sea Witch for the Faerietale ball, he felt comfortable enough in his masculinity to refer to it as a diary.

When George opened up his diary and began to leaf through it, something fell out of it and fluttered to the floor. A photo that had recently been attached to a letter by a certain special someone was now laying on the floor. In the frame Felix Kolbeck was making a peace sign before George hastily swept the photograph up into his hand, shooting a cautionary look at Jack. "You never saw that," he huffed, tucking the photo into his diary again and flicking back a few pages in search of his dream diary entry. "...Here it was... oh, it said we were going to have a successful business venture which results in me being put in prison. I thought it felt quite accurate."

An awkward beat passed with George shifting his weight from foot to foot, hoping that Burnett would not question much on subjects other than Divination... although he suspected that would be the least curious thing he'd brought up since entering. Oh well. George tossed a small handful of lavender and chamomile onto the table, referring to his potions textbook as he began to actually perform his recipe. "What's a sprig? Also, how much would I have to pay you to dice a crocodile heart for me?"

Jack froze at the sound of George's ominous greeting before slowly turning to face the boy whose voice he had come to know quite well. "George? Wh-what are you doing here?" he asked, tipping over an empty bottle and quickly scrambling to set it right. But George was already taking out his things beside Jack.

It seemed it was too late to save the situation since it wasn't like Jack could lie about what he was doing there. It would have been difficult to imply he was doing something other than what it looks like, too, since he was already half-way through attempting to complete the potion. It wasn't like he could just pack everything up right then and there.

Before he even asked, George provided the answer to what he was hoping to concoct and Jack nodded, still in half a mental panic about what George was thinking. Therefore it took him a moment to realize that the other boy wanted to know what he was making in turn. "Oh, this? I - I, uh..." if he was going to admit what he was working on, he might as well have been spilling the beans about his whole secret regarding finishing lessons before class. Fair was fair, though, and it seemed like it would have been hopeless to try to save the situation at that point.

He sighed. "Wit-Sharpening Potion." If he was lucky, maybe George wouldn't recognize they hadn't covered it in class yet. Or maybe he would think Jack was trying it out just because it sounded cool rather than because he wanted to get ahead in class. When George changed the subject, Jack quickly latched on, eager not to talk about why he was in the Potions Classroom in the first place. "You had a dream about me?" He laughed. "Hold on - what do you consider a 'weird one'?"

His brows went up at George's bold choice of using a glittery notebook for his diary which was undoubtably full of private thoughts. Jack might have thought most people would have used something a little less...conspicuous. Not George, apparaently, though. Well, good for him.

When something fell out of the diary, Jack reached down to try to grab it, but paused when he was met with a photo of a platinum blonde boy winking and making a peace sign. He stared so long at the photo that George snatched it up before he could and gave Jack a look of warning along with a few words. Suddenly, Jack grinned. "If I never saw that, then you never saw me in here. Deal?" the redhead asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

George's explanation of his dream had Jack bursting into a fit of laughter, nearly knocking over another bottle. "Yes, that does sound pretty accurate." George did seemed like the sort of boy who would have agreed to some business venture that landed him in prison eventually, Jack reflected. Good thing it was only a dream, though. He wouldn't have liked to have been responsible for that.

"A sprig is just a small stem with leaves or flowers. That much should be enough," the Slytherin answered automatically upon being asked, leaning over to peer at George's ingredients. "And I'm not going to dice the heart for you. Otherwise, how will you ever learn how to do it yourself? You can't just pay someone every time you want to make a potion like this." Pondering something for a moment, he then smirked at George slowly. "...Does the necessity of this Calming Draught have something to do with that flirtatious picture I didn't see?"

@George Henry

Jack seemed quite surprised to see him, though he wasn't sure why. Perhaps he was the sort who preferred to brew his potions alone. George paused and looked quizzically at Jack as he fumbled with an empty flask, glancing between the glass and Jack's face with a growing smirk. It was nice to see someone else getting flustered for a change, rather than being the victim of it himself. Of course, that all changed once the photograph had made an appearance from his diary... but he would address that in a minute.

"Am I interrupting something?" George asked, craning his neck to try and spy the recipe in Jack's book. The way that Jack had panicked made George consider the possibility that this was not such an innocuous potion. But the smell wasn't acrid and foul like with most poisons, nor did it have the funny taste he associated with alihotsy. If it was for a prank, it was one George had not perpetrated nor been the victim of. What could be so secret about the wit-sharpening potion that it made Jack heave such a heavy sigh? Perhaps it wasn't a lie, and something was wrong. George's brow furrowed as he looked upon his friend with concern.

"...Why are you so... what's wrong with Wit-Sharpening potion?" George said. Perhaps Jack was ashamed that he was brewing a potion to improve his mental faculties. He knew Jack had a bit of a reputation for slacking - perhaps someone had been teasing him about it and he wanted to show them he wasn't stupid. The potion itself was proof enough, in George's opinion. They hadn't even gotten to it in class yet.

"Nothing wrong with sharpening your wits. Besides, I think you're sharp enough, Jack. You might consider some sort of dulling potion," George offered. He paused a moment, realizing something, and narrowed his eyes at Jack. Adopting the same venomous tone as earlier, he corrected himself. "Sorry - Burnett."

The offer for secrecy was much more suspicious than simply being embarrassed or preferring privacy. George glanced down at his bag, considering his diary, then considering Jack. All in all, the fact that George had been corresponding with his international Hexwizard paramour since the first task was not a hugely juicy secret. It was just George flirting with a boy, which was not outside the realm of reasonable behavior for him, although the target may have been surprising.

"His name is Felix Kolbeck, he's on the Durmstrang Hexwizard team, and he likes me," George said with a little flutter of his lashes. It was a bit more embarrassing to admit than he expected it to be. There would likely be follow-up questions... but George wanted what he was owed first, in the spirit of fairness. He crossed his arms and looked at Jack with that same look of expectation from earlier, though he did verbalize his thoughts this time. "What are you actually making? I'm not going to get you in trouble."

"After all, that dream did imply that it was more likely that you will get me in trouble, so..." Dreams, of course, were representative of immutable facts of life more than anything else. Source: it came to me in a dream. At least George's invasive line of questioning could be avoided for a brief time by bringing the conversation back around to potions. As 'sprig' was defined, George nodded and tossed the little tangle of lavender into the mortar with a few petals of chamomile, starting to grind them down into powder.

"You do realize that there are a great deal of wizards who pay people to make potions for them? I'll just be one of them. I certainly won't be dicing up a crocodile heart every time I need to calm down, considering that's liable to send me into a spiral on it's own. I'll get stuck in a cycle," George said, with a solemn shake of his head. He gave a nod toward the jar that he had laid out among his equipment, the aforementioned heart awaiting its fate inside. "No, I don't need a calming draught for- well, actually, it would help. Felix can be a bit of a tosser. He's nice, though, if you ignore that. But no, it isn't for that. It's only half for me, honestly..."

When George asked if he was interrupting something, Jack realized what a fool he had been giving himself away with his behavior. "Yeah. Me," he answered with a sneer, though he knew it probably wasn't enough to divert George's suspicion at that point. The Hufflepuff was more shrewd than he'd given him credit for.

"...Why are you so... what's wrong with Wit-Sharpening potion?"

Jack hesitated to reply. During that hesitation, however, George continued, "Nothing wrong with sharpening your wits. Besides, I think you're sharp enough, Jack. You might consider some sort of dulling potion," to which Jack cracked a smile. That smile only broadened with the addition of, "Sorry - Burnett."

"You think I'm sharp enough? Even with how I slack off in class?" he asked, curious to know just what George made of his indolent behavior. When he offered not to have seen George's picture if George didn't see him in the Potions Classroom working on his own, though, he had made the offer partly knowing he had sealed his own fate. George was bound to get curious about why he wanted his presence in the classroom to be a secret then. He had sort of hoped that George's desire to keep his own secrets to himself would have prevented him from prodding further into Jack's business, however.

No such luck.

"His name is Felix Kolbeck, he's on the Durmstrang Hexwizard team, and he likes me," he was told with a batting of eyelashes.

Smiling helplessly at both George's decision to reveal his own secret and the secret itself, Jack shook his head. "The Durmstrang Hexwizard team? And he likes you?" He whistled appreciatively. "Way to go, Henry. I didn't know you had it in you."

Alas, Jack felt George might have been taking advantage of Jack's equivalent exchange policy a little too well, because his next question implied it was Jack's turn to spill the beans. "What are you actually making? I'm not going to get you in trouble. After all, that dream did imply that it was more likely that you will get me in trouble, so..."

The Slytherin had to laugh at that. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you," he finally conceded. "I...I don't like anyone knowing that I like to get a head start on class lessons. I used to get bullied at my muggle school when other kids found out about my grades because the lazy ones wanted me to do their work for them so they could get higher grades too. And the other kids with high grades who were serious about them would get really competitive with me."

He shrugged. "I didn't want any of that here at Hogwarts, so I try to keep a low profile and do my classwork before class so I can seem like I don't care during lessons. That's all it is." Jack chuckled before leaning over to whisper in George's ear, putting a conspiratorial hand up beside his mouth as he said, "And for the record, this really is a Wit-Sharpening Potion."

George's insistence that he would be a wizard who paid people to make potions for him caused Jack to look skyward and shake his head again, still smiling. "These are still really good skills to have. You never know when heart-dicing might come in handy. What if this Kolbeck fellow asks you how to do it for a Hexwizard event, huh? What then?" He smirked, glancing at the crocodile organ in its jar as he leaned on an elbow. "Or you need more space for all those hearts you're stealing?"

The redhead laughed again when Geroge tried to describe Felix. "Wait, wait, wait - so he's a 'bit of a tosser', but he's 'nice if you ignore that'? Well, naturally, anyone would be nice if you ignored that." His brows rose at George's final, half-fading sentence. "What do you mean, 'it's only half for you'? Did he ask you to brew him a potion for the Hexwizard tournament after all?"

@George Henry

George furrowed his brow and gave Jack a curious look. He had not anticipated that Jack would care so much about what George thought of him in class. Obviously Jack had gotten the idea that he was stupid, somehow, likely due to his inattention in class. The Hufflepuff, however, had always had the impression that Jack was quite clever. Not only due to his constant scheming and evident historical knowledge in the form of bizarrely specific Yankee Doodle allegory, but because one time, long ago, at a top secret Ball, he'd cast a second-year charm despite being a first-year. Now, George considered himself quite competent with charms, and he could not successfully perform the freezing charm on that same night. Jealousy ensured that he would always remember that Jack was, at least, good at charms.

"You're plenty sharp," George assured him, in a soft tone, so that nobody would hear them having a tender moment and mistake them for friends. Jack's heart could only take so much. Mr. Burnett shared a deeper emotional insight without any such qualms, revealing that he used to be bullied. George clenched his jaw, pressing his lips into a thin line as he considered what to say next. His history with bullied children was poor, considering he had a history of being a bully. But he'd learned from his time with Jake how to be... relatively sensitive. "Well, luckily for you, I couldn't care less about anyone's grades but my own. Um, unless you need help. Which, judging from this - you don't."

He couldn't help but revel in a little bit of the satisfaction of 'knowing all along,' even if he didn't know the full extent of Jack's slacker genius. "I figured you were good at charms, at least - I remember you doing some fancy spell work on my Jack at the Bludger Blossom Ball," he said. "I won't bully you. For that, at least."

It didn't seem that George thought much of the revelation. He really didn't care much about anyone's grades, unless he was tutoring one of his proteges, in which case O grades were expected. The Hufflepuff giggled as Jack whispered the last of it in his ear, scrunching up his nose and leaning away from the other boy. He playfully shoved the other boy on the shoulder to make some space between them, conscious of the fragile implements that were everywhere in the potions class. "Maybe you could try a breath-freshening potion, while we're here?"

At the suggestion that potion-brewing was an essential skill for a wizard, George made a fart noise with his mouth and rolled his eyes. Was that a sensible idea? Yes, but no matter how pragmatic it was, the thought of dicing up that little heart made him nauseous. "If Felix needs to dice a heart of the task, that's his duty, not mine! Plus, I wouldn't help him anyhow... he can be as cute as he likes, I still want Hogwarts to win."

George blushed and glared at Jack at the accusation that he was a heart thief. "I'm not stealing anyone's heart," George lamented. Things were a bit weird with Alan, as usual, but he hoped that would go away on its own eventually. "And no, not anyone is nice if you ignore when they're a tosser. Some people have nothing to offer other than being a tosser. You like me even though I'm a tosser. Or do you? I guess you might not - since we aren't friends."

The Hufflepuff's brows quirked up and he tried to act like he hadn't just needled his not-friend about something that may have actually bothered him a bit. Their little friendship conversation over the summer had not been forgotten, and George wasn't about to let someone become his comfortable acquaintance. He wanted friends and he wanted enemies - he didn't want fence-sitters. "No... I'm... well, okay, don't get me in trouble for poisoning, but my Jack has been acting... weird since summer camp. He's always pissed off, and he keeps... he went..." George trailed off. "I'm hoping this will like... help him stop freaking out. And me, too... this year has been horrible. I have a test like every single week."

George's curious look and quiet comment caused Jack to redden profusely from his nose to the tips of his ears. He certainly hadn't expected to hear that from the Scottish boy. It took him a moment to try to recompose himself, but he laughed at Geroge's words about luckily not caring about anyone's grades other than his own - unless Jack needed help.

"Thank you. Regardless of whether I need help or not, it's nice of you to offer. And, actually, someone to do all this work with would be very appreciated. There are some things like charms that are pretty difficult to practice on my own. I used to be able to practice with Ruka, but since he doesn't go to Hogwarts anymore, it's been kind of..." He trailed off, biting his lip to keep himself from saying the word 'lonely'. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to admit that aloud just yet, even to George. It would have meant admitting it to himself as well. "Only if you want to, of course."

His thick brows rose at the Hufflepuff's mention of 'fancy spell work' at the 'Bludger Blossom Ball'. "Wow...that was ages ago. I'm surprised you still remember that." He grinned. "So he's your Jack, huh?" Jack had to snort when George said he wouldn't bully him - for that, at least. "Thanks. Kind of a shame, though. I had fun with people who bullied me." He snickered when George leaned away from him after his whispering and playfully shoved him, suggesting he maybe try a breath-freshening potion.

Crossing his arms at the fart noise and the rolling of George's eyes, Jack couldn't completely wipe the smile from his lips. "Ooh, Hogwarts loyalty. That's nice." He burst into a new fountain of laughter at the sight of George's blush, but tried to fight it down and listen when the other boy started talking about being a tosser.

"My liking you has nothing to do with not being your friend," Jack tried to clarify, looking back over his own potions workbook. "You can like someone without being their friend. Friends are dangerous. They can hurt you really bad even if they don't mean to. Like what Jake did to you over the summer and what you probably did to him."

His ears perked up and he glanced back over when Geroge began to explain what he meant by 'only half for him', listening earnestly. When the other boy finished, Jack asked, "Did you ask him why? Why he's been acting weird, I mean." He supposed it could have been hormones, but it could have just as easily been something else, too. "See, this is what I mean. You're his friend, so you want to help him, but what if you accidentally just end up making things worse?"

@George Henry

"Yeah. It's impossible to practice charms without a victim," said George, revealing how he usually 'practiced' with that particular choice of phrasing. In fairness, his victims were usually indirect. It was their belongings that weren't safe.

"Jake is usually my guinea pig unless it's like, bombarda or something. You should see the kind of stuff I used to do with Freddie - he's quite cute when he's dancing across the floor like..." George gestured wildly with one hand across the table to mimic the smooth moves of the enchanted plush dog. "Oh, man. Or when I turned his nightlight into this massive thing... that was awful, though, since it woke everyone up and they all ganged up on me and made me make it small again. I guess that's what I deserve for coming between a Hufflepuff and their daily naps. You'd be a proper practice partner - you've got guts."

At Jack's surprise, he tried to look nonchalant, like he was trying to pass off a compliment. Really, he was trying not to let his envy show. A careless shrug and he pushed ahead to the next topic, his cursed best friend. And not cursed in the usual sense of being a curse upon his life, but rather, more literally cursed. Or hex, bewitched, tainted... whatever maybe-hags did to teenage boys. Whatever disease had crawled out over Alec's lips was doing the same thing inside Jack's head, and he had no way to prove it, and certainly no way to cure it.

"Of course," George said easily, regarding his loyalty to the school. He was a Hufflepuff.

There was that bloody friendship thing again. Never before had George gained a friend that was so stuck on the idea of being friends that they could not progress their relationship at all. It was frustrating, as George quite needed to make some new friends, as he seemed to have a recurring habit of breaking his friendships as easily as he made new ones. And a recently acquired habit of making children cry, which would ruin his reputation if he did not have peers that could vouch for him.

"Careful. We keep talking, brewing potions, practicing charms... one day you'll wake up and realize I've been your friend the whole time," George said, with a soft 'ooh' and a wiggle of his fingers to play up the horror. "And quit talking about what happened over the summer." His teasing took a pause as he picked up the jarred heart and took off the lid, shaking out the organ onto the table where it lay flat and cold as a corpse. George took a small knife up from among his potion making tools and began to dice it. The process of dicing was brief, consisting of George pushing the blade into the heart and promptly letting go with an exaggerated retch. "Merlin's saggy-... robes, I'm not sure being calm is worth this..."

George shook his head when Burnett asked if he had simply asked Jack why he was acting so weirdly. "No, not directly. He goes off over everything now... and he's not even joking around. He's really... serious about it all. It's weird," George said. Taking things seriously was an alarming symptom for a fourteen year old boy to exhibit. George let out a frustrated sigh as Jack cast his doubt over George's clandestine methods of medicine. "What- why are you saying I'm going to make things worse? Would I be a better friend if I just never tried anything at all? Maybe I ought to just take a vow of silence, leave everyone alone. Oh, then I could be happy like Jack Burnett..."

At Geroge's comment about it being impossible to practice charms without a 'victim', Jack snorted hard. "So who have you been using as your 'victims' up until now? Morris? Warren?"

He was answered almost immediately with 'Jake is usually my guinea pig', causing Jack to slap a hand to his face and shake his head incredulously even as he continued to listen to what George had done to Freddie, Jake's stuffed toy dog. A few snickers escaped him nevertheless when the Hufflepuff tried to demonstrate with his hand how the plush animal had moved. And then again when Jack heard about how George had enlarged Jake's nightlight, causing everyone it woke up to 'gang up on him'. "Hufflepuffs don't really take daily naps, do they?" he laughed, trying to picture them doing so. Maybe it had been when they were in a younger year, but still. "It would be my pleasure to be your proper practice partner, though. Maybe we can even have practice duels if you like."

When George focused on trying to seem nonchalant, Jack left him alone, completely unaware of his envy. He was also completely oblivious to George's frustration at Jack's refusal to call their relationship a friendship as well as George's reasons behind wanting to make new friends. He continued to work on his Wit-Sharpening Potion as he added the ginger he had cut into fine shreds into his cauldron mixture.

George's warning about him waking up to realize he'd been his friend the whole time caused Jack to grimace briefly. Little did George know it wouldn't have been the first time. Friendships tended to sneak up on people like that if they weren't careful and Jack had had more than his fair share sneak up on him. Wasn't that why he was suffering now, having grown so distant from Ruka, Kasuka, and others? He missed them and their company even if he was loathe to admit it. At least this way he could pretend they didn't leave a hollow, sore space in his heart. He didn't want to think about how he was acting so friendly now with George.

So, instead, he chose to add the ingredient of a bat spleen to his cauldron and covered it to brew for 30 minutes, as instructed, while he watched George take up his crocodile heart and dice it with complaint. He smiled at the comment about not being sure that being calm was worth it, but said nothing, watching the other teen as he thought.

Jack Warren was not someone Jack Burnett believed to take too much seriously, so for him to not be joking and to lose his temper so much certainly sounded strange. If anyone would have noticed something wrong with him, it would have been his friends, wouldn't it have? So it was likely it was more than just hormones or puberty.

He hesitated when George asked why he was saying he was going to make things worse. Asked if he would have been a better friend if he never tried anything at all. "I don't...I don't know," Jack confessed. "I'm not the friend expert here. I'm just pointing out that this is how friendships cause problems!"

But George was mocking him then, claiming that if he took a vow of silence and left everyone alone, then he could be happy like Jack Burnett. Jack sighed. "That's not what I - look. I'm sorry. I understand...wanting to help other people you care about. It's hard...not to care about other people sometimes," he admitted, not meeting his peer's eye as he said it. "It's just...why does caring about others have to mean so much trouble and grief? It's not rightly fair, is it?"

@George Henry

"They really do," George insisted, with a desperate look in his eye. It was so alien to the Gryffindors that a full house of students, mostly teenagers, could behave so much like a kindergarten class. It was a shame it was so difficult to come by a camera at Hogwarts, or he'd have shared photographic evidence of the Hufflepuff's weirdness with everyone he met. "Less now, though. Well, maybe they just don't invite me to their slumber parties anymore. No great loss, in any case..."

Dueling practice? Now there was a proposal! George shifted his weight from one foot from the other as his gaze scanned over Jack, sizing him up. He seemed like a formidable opponent. Intellect normally translated into magical prowess, and Jack was a fairly intelligent boy. Still, so was George. "That sounds like fun," he said with a nod. "I'm surprised you aren't on the dueling team. You're a good spell caster. But not a show-off, I guess... that must be why."

What was the reward for all his great scholarly efforts if he couldn't even sling spells in front of people? George never shied away from a spotlight. Having talents that you didn't show off was like that metaphor about the tree falling in the forest with no one there to hear it. If nobody hears it, nobody cares about it, so it might as well not exist.

"No, it's not fair, but nothing ever is. And if I were in trouble, I think Jack would be trying to help me, too. Probably by hitting me in the head with something, but that's just how he solves problems. It's just that I'm rarely in trouble because I actually have an ounce of sense, unlike my friends," sighed George, returning to the table after a brief circle around his corner of the classroom, picking up his knife and thrusting it with gusto through the crocodile heart.

'Diced' would be a generous word for what he did to it, but perhaps the recipe would accept a substitution for 'shredded' crocodile heart. Still, he managed, and he only seemed to gag a little bit as he grabbed a handful of the mangled organ and threw it into the cauldron. He wiped the crocodile blood off of his hand and onto his robes, shuddering as he looked down at the dark spot it left. Best not to think about it...

"It's a lot of trouble and grief, yeah. I just can't imagine anything else," the boy admitted, looking over to his fellow brewer. "I suspect it's just sort of an involuntary human reflex, like breathing, or wanting to throw up when you handle the raw organs of a crocodile. You can't help doing it. Not you specifically, but... you know."

George shrugged. "I've given you enough grief about it anyway. You're off the hook for now, you haven't got to be my friend, but we can still practice our charms."