Sweet Tooth | Albus Dumbledore

Chapter Three

Albus kept an eye out for the next few days, but William was not to be seen. Finally, six days afterwards, Albus stayed near the fence for most of the morning. He got out a camp chair and settled it by the flower beds, taking a book to ostensibly read. But the truth was that he was barely concentrating on it. Instead, he peeked over it to the garden on the other side. It was disappointingly empty. The only things he could see were daffodils, gently drifting in the breeze, raising their yellow heads to the sun.

Eventually, just before lunch, he gave up. Deciding on talking to his sister he went inside, only to see his mother had a visitor. A neighbour, Mrs Darcy, had popped over, and the two women were talking. Ariana was nowhere to be seen.

"Terrible thing," Mrs Darcy was saying. "The poor parents– oh hello, Albus. You're getting very thin."

"Hello, Mrs Darcy," he said politely, as this was the usual. "Have you seen Ariana?"

"Upstairs," Kendra told him, flicking through her newspaper, and he made his way up the stairs, which creaked underneath his step as though in protest.

He had always been closer to his sister than his brother, had always found her easier to understand. Aberforth was a loner: he lived his life with his animals outside. Of course Albus loved his brother, but there just wasn't the same trust. Ariana was the only one, well, ever, to know about his....oddness. He wasn't really sure what to call it, but was sure that his parents would most certainly not approve. In fact, it filled his stomach with an odd feeling whenever he even thought about telling them. The feeling was far worse than butterflies – it felt like an entire nest of angry worms were inside him, wriggling and twisting and writhing to the point where he felt sick. He could be killed for this feeling, and he knew it, knew it better than any equation or spell, and yet he could not force himself to feel any other way. Girls held no attraction for him, while boys....well, boys made his heart race, his stomach jump, his heart flutter.

He had reached Ariana's door, and paused. Though a year before she would have allowed him to walk in without ceremony, she now demanded that everyone knock on her door first and usually kept it locked.

"Who is it?" She asked warily.

"Albus."

The lock clicked, the door opening, and on the other side Ariana sighed in relief. "Oh it's you. Thank goodness. I thought it'd be that dreadful old woman again – get in quick."

Albus did as he was told and she locked the door again, thumping down on her bed. Ariana's room was at the top of the house, an attic bedroom with sloping ceilings. It was filled with all manner of things, all thrown in untidy heaps: clothes heaped on a chair, balls of knitting and needles thrown about carelessly, magazines and several books with their spines or pages bent. Albus winced and automatically fixed them as Ariana spoke. "Is she still downstairs?"

"Mrs Darcy? Unfortunately."

Ariana gave a theatrical sort of sigh and lay back, her dark hair spread over her flowery pillow. "I can't even get a biscuit," she complained. "Al, I went down for a biscuit and she ambushed me. The old bat went on and on about sitting in a ladylike fashion – honestly!"

Albus laughed. Though his sister wasn't really what you might call a tomboy, she hated the way the woman treated her.

"I swear, she still hasn't forgiven me for the dinner."

Albus smile, remembering the disastrous evening when the Darcys had come to dinner and their mother – a mistake she swore she would never make again – had let Ariana cook. She liked cooking, but said she got bored with traditional recipes – ergo she liked to experiment and poison everyone.

"I don't think she appreciated cabbage ice cream," Albus pointed out. "Or hair in her beetroot and onion soup."

"Yes, but I don't see why she had to make such a fuss. It was only a little hair. And anyway, the soup was delicious, wasn't it Al?"

"Exemplary," he lied, poking a disgruntled Reginald, who glared and hopped off the window, as he could sat down and looked out into the garden.

"You haven't seen William today, have you?" He asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

Ariana moved her magazine off her face. "Albus, don't make it so obvious."

"What?"

"That you're completely and utterly head over heels."

"I am not!" He protested, going rather hot about the neck.

"Yes you are! At dinner last week you were practically starry eyed."

"I was not."

"You were. You've spoken to him a grand total of once, you know. It's rather sad. If you're that desperate you should just go and ask for him."

Albus deflated, looking out into the empty garden next door. "But I don't have any excuse to see him."

Ariana smiled and picked up Reginald. "Yes you do. Reginald brought you together once, he can do it again. Right Reggie?"

Reginald did not look at all happy about the situation, but grumpily allowed her to stroke his ears. "That's sorted then," she said happily.