"Ariana, I am going to embarrass myself."

"No you're not," Ariana said briskly. "All you have to do is go up to the door and ask about my missing cat. Then he invites you in and you fall in love over possibly deadly confectionary. Simple as. Just knock."

Albus really felt pathetic that his sister, despite being thirteen years old and a Hufflepuff, was far braver than him. "Can you come with me?"

"No," she said savagely, and pushed him out from behind the hedge. "Go."

Albus nodded and made his way forward. Perhaps he could pretend like he was a character in a book. Perhaps he could pretend to be Arthur, on a quest. Though he was sure that the real Arthur would never be as pathetic as he was, it still seemed a massive task.

Albus Dumbledore And The Fear Of Social Interaction, he thought, stopping at the glass door. He risked a peek back at the hedge, where he heard a sigh, and then a hiss.

"Knock!"

Albus turned around and knocked. Twice, quickly and concisely. Oh Merlin, he hoped nobody else would answer. He hoped –

When the door opened, it revealed the man from the window. He no longer looked angry, but just like somebody's balding, middle aged father. He looked a little puzzled, but not unwelcoming.

"Can I help you?"

"Um," said Albus. "Er. Eh."

His tongue seemed stuck.

Say something, you idiot.

"Uh."

Not that. Anything. Say-

"I'm a friend of William's," he heard himself blurt out.

Oh Merlin why.

The man gave a small smile. Now he saw that he was definitely William's father – something of his smile reminded Albus of his son, and though his eyes were a faded blue, what hair he had left was the same colour as William's, albeit a bit grey. He had little wrinkles about his eyes, and dark bags.

"Right then. Do you want to see him?"

"Erm. Yes, that would be nice, thank you Mr Honeyduke."

Albus stepped gingerly into the hall, Mr Honeyduke closing the door behind him.

"William!" He called up the stairs. "There's a friend of yours here!"

"A friend?" William said in puzzlement, appearing at the top of the steps. He looked down at Albus, then smiled. "Albus!"

He was wearing a waistcoat today, an odd ensemble of red and purple diagonal stripes that made Albus stare. He didn't think he had ever seen an article of clothing so strange. It was almost hypnotic in its ugliness.

He swung down the steps, several at a time, landing at the bottom. His father rolled his eyes and disappeared up the stairs, while William's grandmother shuffled out of the kitchen.

"Albus?" She said, squinting a little, but then smiling. "Do you want some tea, love?"

"No thank you, Mrs Cliffdon. I just came to ask William about something."

"If you're sure," she said, and went into the living room.

William's forehead wrinkled. "You wanted to ask me about something?"

"Um, yes. My sister's cat is missing."

He looked a little disappointed, but his expression smoothed. "I suppose we can look, then. C'mon, Nan's garden has plenty of little nooks and crannies."

Albus followed him out the back door into the garden, desperately trying to think of small talk. "You're not making your sweets today then," he said finally.

"No. Can't really, when Dad's here. He doesn't like it."

"Why not?" Albus asked in surprise. "Isn't he happy you have a hobby?"

William gave a wry sort of smile as he lead the way down the path. "Not particularly. He doesn't say it, but I know he'd prefer if I liked fishing and that sort of stuff. I'm all fingers and thumbs when it comes to that. Do you like fishing?"

Albus shrugged. "My brother goes fishing with Pa every week, and I go occasionally. It's just very...."

"Boring," William supplied, opening the shed door. "I suppose the little bugger might have got into my sweets."

"What?" Albus said in confusion, then cursed himself. "Oh! Oh Reginald. Yes."

William looked amused. "Reginald? What a name for a cat."

Albus shrugged. "My sister Ariana chose it. She said he looked like an old man. I – oh!"

He broke off as they entered the shed, and he stared.

The only sweets Albus had ever seen were ones he bought either here or in Hogsmeade, and you had a choice of few. You could get toffees, chocolate, sherbet quills, hard little aniseed balls or large gobstoppers, and they were given to you in brown paper bags.

William's shed though....it was something else. It was like a sugary wonderland.

There were boxes upon boxes of colourful, sweet smelling confectionary. There were ordinary things like chocolate and fudge, of course, but there was even more of the extraordinary. There were candy canes, gigantic chocolate balls that were filled with cream, green acidic lollipops, fruit gum, an intriguing bag that had a handwritten note – remember, not perfected, causes stream of fire from mouth. Do not test in kitchen ever again.

"You like them?" William asked, sounding a little embarrassed. "Usually people just say I'm wasting my time."

Albus unfroze. "They look wonderful! You make these all yourself?"

He nodded, scratching his head in apparent embarrassment. "I can't make much at the minute, though, because I can't use magic. I made most of these at Hogwarts. I used to make toffee and such with my mum. We experimented with different flavours, and when she died...."

He swallowed. "I don't suppose the cat is in here then."

"I suppose not," Albus said, and followed him out of the shed. William locked it up again and as they walked towards the house, he tried to find a suitable topic of conversation.

"What House are you in at Hogwarts?"

"Hufflepuff," William replied. "You're Gryffindor, right?"

"Yes. What year are you in?"

"Going into sixth. How about you?"

"Seventh," he said regretfully. "My last year. You'll be getting your O.W.L results soon, then?"

William smiled as he opened the back door. "I'd wager I've failed everything except Potions, and even then it's just because I had to do remedial. He was losing his patience with me, I can tell you. I'm absolutely hopeless at Transfiguartion. I haven't a clue how I'll get through N.E.W.T level. I bet you'll ace it, though, Carrow's always on about you."

"Is he," Albus mumbled, a little red faced, but pleased.

The question hovered at the back of his throat: I could help you with it.

But the words wouldn't come. They had reached the front door, and William stopped. "Good luck with the cat, then."

"Yes," he said awkwardly. "Goodbye, William."

"You can call me Will if you like. Most of my family does."

"Goodbye then, Will," he said, savouring the sound of the word.

"We've got to go somewhere later, but you can come again tomorrow, right?"

He sounded almost eager, and Albus smiled. "Of course."

He opened the door, then squinted. "Is that your cat there?"

Albus looked outside to see Reginald sitting in the garden and looking like a particularly ugly decoration. "Unfortunately," he said, coming forward and trying to pick him up. Reginald wasn't having any of it and jumped up on the wall, leaving him empty handed and feeling foolish, even as he heard William laughing.

"I think your cat hates you!" He called out after him.

"I have long since accepted it!"

When he got back to the house, Ariana was sitting in the kitchen, peeling potatoes for their mother.

"How did it go?" She demanded.

"How did what go?" Kendra asked, looking up in interest.

"I went to see the boy next door," Albus said, sitting down. "Do you want me to help, Mum?"

"Oh here then. Merlin knows Ariana's not got much patience for it."

She passed him a knife and he began to peel some, while Ariana half heartedly scraped at hers. "So what was he like, Albus?"

"All right," he said, looking down at the potato. "I mean – a little odd."

"Odd how?" Kendra asked, pointing her wand so her knife went peeling by itself.

"That's cheating, Mum!" Ariana was aghast. "You don't even need us!"

"Of course I do, who else is going to complain as much as you, Ariana? How was he odd?"

"He wore a waistcoat with red and purple stripes."

Kendra winced. Ariana wrinkled her nose. "Red and purple?"

"Mm."

"Your father used to have a waistcoat like that," Kendra said idly. "It was yellow and black, and easily the ugliest article of clothing I had ever seen. It was his favourite."

"Did you make him stop wearing it, Mum?"

She shook her head, her dark hair slipping from its topknot. "No I-"

The front door opened, Percival returning from work. "I'm home!" He announced unnecessarily, then frowned. "What are you doing, Albus?"

"Just helping," Albus said, putting down the knife. "I'm finished."

"I was just telling them about your bee waistcoat," Kendra said quickly. "And how it almost made me reconsider my decision to marry you."

"That was a fashionable waistcoat," he protested. "All the girls had their eye on me."

"Because it was so ugly you couldn't not look at it, Percival."

"Do you know what your mother did, children?" He said, leaning over the table. "Do you know what she did to my favourite waistcoat? She actually cut it up. There's Slytherins for you. Don't trust them. They'll cut up your waistcoats."

"I don't regret it. And if you continue to bash my House I'll cut up the rest of them," she said, smiling at him. He smiled right back, and Albus got that uncomfortable feeling that he was intruding. His parents were hardly the most romantic couple – Albus was sure he had never seen them so much as hold hands – but it was clear they loved each other nonetheless, in that comfortable, familiar way that he almost envied.

He wondered if he would always be like this. It seemed that around every corner in Hogwarts there was a young, giggling couple, holding hands or kissing in corridors.

Even his friend Elphias had recently acquired a girlfriend, making him feel even lonelier.

He made to slope away from the table, but Ariana came after him.  "What's up with you? Didn't things go well with William?"

"They did," he admitted. "I suppose. He invited me back tomorrow."

"You suppose," Ariana tied back her dark hair, a smug look on her face. "Well, it's all down to your matchmaker sister. Where's Aberforth?"

"What, are you going to find him a girlfriend?" He asked with a grin. "One of his goats?"

Ariana smacked his arm. "Don't be cruel. Just because he likes animals doesn't mean he hasn't got human feelings like the rest of us, Al. Perhaps he's pining away right as we speak for a girlfriend."

Her eyes were practically stars. "All he has to do is find her."

"And take a bath and comb his hair."

"Well," she allowed. "Yes. And maybe shave."