"Did you know that there are ten Degrees of Freedom?"
Percy looked down at Riley from his spot at his desk and hummed in response before going back to his Transfiguration Paper.
Riley looked up at him from her spot on his bed, the twelve year old scrunched her nose at him and sighed.
"There are!" she protested.
"Aren't we supposed to be studying for your Herbology test?"
"I'm going to fail anyway, and it was either this or I attempt to seduce you with lurid and lude limericks that my dad uses." she said rolling over until her long honey-wheat blonde hair tumbled over the edge of his bed.
"You're twelve!" he said stunned.
"So? Degree Four, Freedom of Stereotypes also Degree Six, Freedom of Age. I'm twelve, not dead. Up until recently, I would be married and expected to have a kid within the next year just because I bleed once a month."
"Must you be so vulgar?" Percy asked her and she shrugged.
"Does it grab your attention?" she asked.
"Yes?" he gave her a sideways look.
"Then yes I do." Percy sighed at this. "Besides I'm more mature than you."
Percy raised his brow at her. "How so?"
"I can say sex without blushing crimson red." Percy flushed. "You can't even hear the word without flushing."
Percy opened his mouth and closed it back when he found he had nothing to say.
"I win!" giggled erupted as she clutched his pillow to her face as Percy gapped at her.