another of those email conversations that had nothing to do with Fred, George, and sex. and yet. by lise.
mmmm. and like, maybe,
George picks up a thirty year old, one time when he's at home and him and Fred sneak to the closest village on their broom. Fred stands guard but later, when he and George are talking about it, Fred says,
"You're turning into a grave robber."
George flips over. "What?"
"Well, just," and Fred, frowns, irritably. "You picked up another thirty year old."
"He wasn't that old," and George looks up into Fred's face. it's dark, so he can't see very well, but Fred's definitely frowning. "You want me to stop?"
"Well, I just," and Fred waved a hand. "You know."
"Okay," George says tolerantly. "I'll stop."
Fred thinks about saying well don't just on my account, I don't care, but that's a lie and he'd know it and George would know it too.