When Ron woke up, he was surprised to find Fred and George standing around his bed looking rather perplexed, index fingers out. George was poking the air on one side, while Fred poked the air above him. He stared for a moment, ever astute in his grogginess, and then spoke. "What're you two doing in here?" Perhaps a bit louder then necessary, but he did get them to respond.
"Keep it down," Fred whispered, "We're looking for Peter." He looked at the piece of parchment in his left hand, and Ron took a moment to process it before sitting up.
"Who's Peter? Why would he be in my bed?" He looked about, but saw no one who wasn't supposed to be there besides his brothers.
George made a waving motion with his hand, "Doesn't matter, must be messing up 'cause it's old."
"What's messing up?"
Fred nodded and ignored him, "Probably. Why would Ron be sleeping with a bloke named Peter?"
Ron stared, trying to figure out what they were talking about. Beside him, Scabbers flipped over and snored.