Al's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to spy on Peter. And he's not a rat, he's a rat animagus. That's completely different!"
Al shrugged. "If he wanted to harm any of us, he'd've done it already. He could have slipped something into the sandwiches, that first night. And there are easier ways to get information; he's teaching my sister and he lives in the same castle as my parents. Why would he even need me for that? No, you don't spend a sleepless night over a campaign map with three strangers and two body guards, unless you really enjoy it."
Suddenly, Al looked up at Scor, giving him a stern stare. "Ugh, not you too. Honestly, it's just satisfying a primitive physical urge. Like getting drunk together. Give it five or six decades and it'll pass."