Percy stared at them, his mouth dry. That was, in fact, exactly how he'd felt. He'd said as much to everyone who'd asked. I'm not a hero. I was just doing my duty as a prefect. Because no one else had been there, no one else had been close enough. And he'd done it without thinking - they had time to think, and they were choosing the dangerous path anyway. Percy would have dearly loved to stop them, to throw himself into the line of fire instead, but Ron had already prevented him from doing that by making him play the King. And now Ron was directing the pieces, and hesitantly accepting the twins" decision with a sort of stoic terror; and Percy didn't have any say in the matter at all.