"Certainly," he agrees fervently. "Even being spoiled rotten doesn't fully account for it."
"One assumes."
"Not once their nature became known," he agrees. "I will do Molly the credit," he says, tone implying that that's about all the credit he'll give her, "of assuming that the chore was intended to give him a sense of being pride to compensate for not being the center of attention. And," he adds with a light-eyed dryness, "I sincerely doubt that any sibling of yours could have managed a personality like even George Weasley's."
Severus colors faintly, just at the tops of his cheekbones. "Wouldn't know what to do with it," he says gruffly. "Best as it is." He gives him an actual smile, really pleased (and amused). "Quite the reverse. A counteragent against spring fever." More seriously, "I don't do love potions. I won't. I advise you not to, as well, however well fools will pay for them."