"Shhhh . . ."
"I know you numb-skull!"
"How did this happen?"
Harry was on his way down the hallway when frantic, hissed voices from Al's room caught his interest. Stepping forwards he slowly turned the door handle. The sight that met his eyes was alarming. The room looked like a tornadoe had decided to have a party with a craft store. Papers and nick-nacks were scattered all over the floor. Paint in every shade imaginable was everywhere. Teal, aquamarine, crimson, magenta. Not to mention the glitter, which looked like it was applied by a manic two-year-old girl hiped up on coffee. And right in the middle were his sons, giving him identical deer-in-the-headlights looks and sparkling like Edward Cullen on a particularly sunny day. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation before sighing deeply and looking them dead in the eye.
"I saw nothing," was all he said before he turned sharply on his heel and exited the room.