He toppled over the moment Fred and George came through the door. Holding his cramping stomach, only Ron's swift reaction kept him from faceplanting into a display. Maybe he had overeaten? No, he was still hungry, famished, in fact. "Harry, mate, talk to me!" Ron's words were annoying. They kept him from thinking. The pain kept him from thinking. Something was wrong, and he needed to clear his mind for just a second to find out what it was. He was sure of it.