A/N: I do not own anything in the Potterverse; all credit goes to JK Rowling.

Alphard Black & Arnold Gisned

Arnold Gisned could not believe what he was currently hearing. He was fidgeting in his seat beside his younger sister, Carolyn. Carolyn herself was watching their guest in amazement as Arnold had been a few moments ago. He glanced at his parents, but they too were captivated by the man that had arrived so unexpectedly at their home. At first, Arnold had thought that their visitor's arrival had been a practical joke. Yet after seeing each of his family member's astonished expressions he knew that none of them had put their guest up to this. Arnold had no other choice but to look at the guest again and voice his confusion aloud.

"Excuse me, sir," Arnold said slowly. "Would you mind repeating that last part? I don't think I understand."

The man who had introduced himself as Professor Albus Dumbledore nodded, smiling. His blue eyes twinkled with glee at having been the one to reveal this great secret to Arnold and his family. Arnold wanted to jump up and scream with pure joy, yet he resisted. There was no reason he should believe this man. If he allowed himself to believe the tales that this Professor Dumbledore was telling him, he would get his hopes up. He couldn't allow his hopes to be risen if there was such a great possibility of them being let down.

"Arnold Gisned," Professor Dumbledore said in a voice that sounded almost regal, "you are a wizard. This means that you possess magical powers. Furthermore, you have been invited to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If you decide to accept your invitation to Hogwarts, you will learn how to use your magic to its fullest potential. Hogwarts is one of the most prestigious magical institutions in the world, and it is there that you will learn to control and master your skills."

As he did the first time Professor Dumbledore had said this, Arnold inhaled deeply and considered what he had just been told. Could it be true; could he really be a wizard? Why him, of all people?

"Sir?" Arnold said again. "Excuse me, but how is that possible? Both of my parents are not magical, so how can it be that I am?" He felt embarrassed; he hadn't wanted to prattle off like that. He was just too curious.

"A good question indeed," Professor Dumbledore said. "There are times in all of our family histories that either a witch or a wizard married a Muggle. A Muggle, Arnold, is a term used to speak of someone who does not possess magical powers." Professor Dumbledore glanced at David and Joanne and gave a subtle nod. "Please excuse me. The term is not meant to offend."

Out of the corner of his eye, Arnold saw his parents smile. Professor Dumbledore practically radiated of kindness and respect. Arnold decided that he believed the Hogwarts teacher.

"Strictly speaking," Professor Dumbledore continued, "the witch or wizard who marries a Muggle still passes down the magical gene in their children. The gene will sometimes remain dormant for many generations, but sooner or later, a magical child will be born in that family. Magical children in Muggle family lines usually emerge at random; it may take centuries for the magical gene to appear once more. This is how you came to be a wizard, Arnold.

"You, Arnold, are what we call a Muggle-born wizard. This does not give you any disadvantage, nor does it give you any advantage, to any other child at Hogwarts. It simply makes you a wizard, just like the other witches and wizards you would attend school with."

Arnold nodded. He felt his lips curling throughout the professor's explanation of Muggle-born wizards. It was really true; he really was a wizard! Arnold fought the urge to get up and hug the older wizard for delivering this wonderful news.

However, something that Professor Dumbledore had said was bothering him. The word Muggle was not new to Arnold; he and the rest of his family had been called Muggles before. Except the last time he had been called a Muggle, it had not been used in a benign way. They had called him that when he'd first seen them.

Thinking of them sent shivers down his spine, though he remembered them quite clearly. Arnold had never really feared another person until he had met the Blacks.

Arnold first met the Blacks when he was dining out with his family one year ago. They had tried a new restaurant, the Grey Goat Tavern, which was only two blocks from their Holloway home in London. His family had been in the process of ordering dessert when the Black family entered. Arnold had been helping Carolyn pick out what she wanted, since the six-year-old had a knack for choosing some especially messy dishes. When he had finally gotten his sister to settle for a treacle tart, he had looked up just in time to see the Black family striding towards a table near his family.

He was amazed at how the family moved. Every one of the Blacks strode with a dignified air, unmistakable nobility. Arnold had never seen any of them before; he would have remembered them if he had. There was no forgetting the way they commanded the attention of every person in the restaurant. Arnold was one of the first to have spotted them, yet after a few minutes almost everyone in the restaurant had been watching the family.

The Black family consisted of three children, although two of them were teenagers, and their parents. Each one of them sat down gracefully, and every one of them immediately placed their napkins on their laps as soon as they were seated. They did not look at the menu, nor did they speak amongst themselves. The man that appeared to be the family patriarch was eyeing the patrons in the restaurant with great disdain. In fact, the way he glared at the others around him made Arnold believe there was nothing less than hatred in his eyes. That look alone frightened Arnold, yet he could not take his eyes off of the family.

Throughout dessert Arnold barely paid attention to his own family's conversation. He listened in to what the Blacks were saying; he was trying to learn their names. He wanted to know who they were. Arnold couldn't describe why he was so fascinated with the Blacks. He couldn't understand where they had come from. Even stranger, Arnold thought, was the way the Blacks were dressed. They were wearing what seemed to be similar to the bathrobes he owned, except they were elegant and embroidered with jewels and colorful fabrics.

The men of the family wore turtleneck shirts underneath their robes, each one bearing a crest. The crest was also embroidered on the dresses the women wore, and Arnold had seen it on the youngest boy's cloak as well. Arnold had seen the words 'toujours pur' stand out on the crest, although he wasn't sure what it meant.

Arnold soon learned that the father of the family was not the Black he feared the most. He became almost terrified of the eldest child, whom he had heard the others address as Walburga. Arnold had initially thought that Walburga Black was very pretty and looked quite docile compared to the men. However, as he studied her more, he noticed something frightening about her eyes. They were a dull brown, but there was something else in them. Arnold saw a glimmer of pure madness in those brown eyes, as if Walburga Black was about to rise from her seat and attempt to murder each patron in the room. Arnold was about to look away when he saw Walburga's eyes meet his own, and they were positively gleaming with hatred and anger.

"What are you looking at?" Walburga demanded as she looked him up and down, scowling as she did so.

Arnold did not respond. Instead, he looked down at the floor. He felt his parents' worried gazes, and he could only hope Walburga would not create a scene. He had been staring at the Blacks for quite some time and he knew it was rude to do so. Arnold had just decided to apologize to the eldest Black child when she spoke once more in her velvety voice.

"I asked you why you were looking at me," Walburga said. She was still glaring at him, and Arnold was dismayed to see that now the others in her family were watching him as well. All of them had the same look in their eyes as they looked at Arnold: hatred.

"'Burga, don't bother with him," the middle child said to his sister. He had dirty blonde hair and steel grey eyes that also had a mad glimmer in them. "He's only a filthy Muggle."

Muggle? What on Earth was a Muggle? Arnold had never heard the word before, but assumed it was something foul from the way that the boy had said it. Arnold was frightened. He didn't know who these people were or why they hated him so, but they were now causing a scene.

"Excuse me," David Gisned said angrily to the teenage boy at the other table. "Who do you think you are, talking to my son like that?"

Walburga laughed; an insane cackle that caused many other patrons to begin watching the exchange. Her mother, a rather lumpy woman, was laughing as well. They were watching Arnold and his family with mild amusement, yet the look of pure hatred was still present.

"I am Cygnus Black," the boy said, as if he expected Arnold and his family to jump at the sound of his name. "I belong to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I wouldn't expect you lot to know the name. After all, you're only foul Muggles."

Cygnus sat back, grinning, his eyes dancing with pleasure. Arnold glanced at his father, who was turning redder by the minute. He wanted to ask what a Muggle was, but he knew this was not the time. His mother had her hand on his father's shoulder; she was whispering in his ear that they should just leave. David then told his family they were leaving and got up to pay for their dinner.

Arnold glanced at the youngest boy, just out of habit. He found his gaze lingering on the young boy; he looked about the same age as Arnold, yet he possessed the same dignified poise as the rest of his family. His eyes were different, though. They did not shine with madness or hatred. In fact, Arnold thought he saw sorrow in the hazel eyes. When the boy realized he was being watched, he merely smiled at Arnold. It was a quick smile, nothing his family would have registered, but Arnold saw it. He appreciated the fact that not all of them were mad.

Arnold stood up at the same time as his mother and father. He took Carolyn's hand as she stood and led her out the door behind his parents. He could hear Walburga's wild laughter as they exited. Her laugh seemed to echo in his mind even after they had left the restaurant and had begun walking toward their home.

"Dad, what's a Muggle?" Arnold finally asked. If he was going to be insulted, he at least wanted to know what the word meant.

However, David only shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, son," he said quietly. "It's probably just a nasty word that boy made up to insult us. I wouldn't pay it any mind, Arnold."

Suddenly, Arnold heard someone calling out to them. All four Gisneds turned abruptly upon hearing the voice. Arnold grinned at what he saw. The youngest Black boy was running towards them. He was stumbling quite a bit as he tried to reach the Gisned family; it was a refreshing change from the regal grace he had possessed in The Grey Goat Tavern.

"Hey, wait!" the boy exclaimed again, running hard to catch up even though the family had stopped moving.

"Do you know him?" David asked his son. Arnold shook his head.

The Black boy caught up to them after another moment. He was panting hard, bending over and leaning a hand against the wall. When he finally caught his breath he looked up at the family of four, smiling shyly.

"Er, hi," he said quietly. "My name is Alphard Black."

"I'm Arnold Gisned," Arnold replied at once, returning Alphard's smile.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," said Alphard. "My family doesn't like Muggles very much. I do, but I can't tell them that or my mum will toss me out."

David put a strong hand on Alphard's shoulders. The boy looked up at Arnold's father with awestruck eyes, visibly touched by the kind gesture. Arnold couldn't help but wonder what Alphard's life was like with such a cold family. He pitied the boy, but was glad to see that he was different from the rest of his family.

"It's all right, son," David said to Alphard. "You're very brave to come out here and say that to us."

Alphard grinned and nodded, causing his raven hair to fall in front of his face. Unlike Cygnus, whose sandy hair had been swept back and neatly combed, Alphard's was wild and messy. Arnold wondered how he did not see how different this boy was from the others in his family.

"I don't get to see other people that much," Alphard said sadly. He looked around as he spoke, as if he was expecting one of his family members to jump out from an alleyway at any moment. Arnold didn't really blame him. "My father doesn't think we should speak to Mu-, er, people like you."

"What do you mean, Alphard?" asked Joanne. Arnold's mother had been quiet throughout the evening, but her curiosity took precedence and she spoke at last.

"Er," Alphard began, running a hand through his messy hair, "My family is pure-blood, and they think they're better than other people because of that. I think it's rubbish, but I can't tell them that. My mum has a tapestry of my family, you see, and if we're bad she says she'll blow us off the tapestry."

The boy spoke well for his age, which further showed his refined nature. He had clearly been well educated in the Black house. Arnold was beginning to like Alphard Black; he had shown his true colors by simply running out to tell them he was sorry for his family's behavior.

"I don't know what being pure-blood means, exactly," David said, "but I understand what you mean. How old are you, Alphard?"

"I'm ten, Sir," he said quietly.

David exchanged a surprised look with Joanne before returning to Alphard. "My son, Arnold, is ten also. If you are ever in need of a friend, we live just down the street there. You see that house right there?" David pointed toward their home, just down the block from the restaurant they had just been to. "That's our home, and you are welcome to come there anytime that you wish. Anytime you need anything, anything at all, do not hesitate to knock on our door."

Alphard's hazel eyes began to brim with tears. He was fighting them, it was obvious, but Arnold saw them nonetheless. The boy had obviously never been shown this much kindness before. "I-" he began, and then stopped suddenly. He shook violently as he fought back more tears.

Carolyn, who had not understood much of what had happened thus far, seemed to see the struggle Alphard was having. She quickly stepped towards the boy and hugged him tightly. David and Joanne looked on with pride as their young daughter showed such a kind gesture toward the boy. She hugged him for more than a minute before he started to sob.

David and Joanne exchanged a sad look as the boy cried into Carolyn's shoulder. He was taller than her by a few inches and his head was buried into her shoulder. He continued to sob, uttering a wail of despair as he tried to control himself. David bent down and grasped the boy's shoulder again. Joanne looked as if she might cry any moment herself. Arnold moved towards Alphard as well.

When the boy was done crying, Carolyn released him from her arms and helped him wipe his tears from his face. Arnold had never seen his little sister show such compassion and understanding. She used the sleeve of her cloak to wipe away the tears from his cheeks, and his lips curled into a small smile.

"My name is Carolyn," she said quietly. "Don't be sad, Alphard. You can come over any time you want. Right, Dad? Mum?"

Both parents nodded immediately. David still had his hand on Alphard's shoulder, and he used it to guide the boy so he was standing in front of him.

"Alphard," he said quietly, "you are welcome any time that you wish. I don't know what those people in there," he gestured toward the Grey Goat, where the Black family was currently sitting, "have done to you, but I'm here for you. The same goes for the rest of my family. Don't ever think that you don't have anyone to go to, son."

The boy almost broke out into tears again, but he restrained himself this time. He seemed to realize how long he had been gone from his family, as his eyes were suddenly nervous again.

"T-thank you, Sir," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I c-cried, but no one has ever asked me to c-come over before. No one has ever told me that I w-was… welcomed."

"You're welcome with us," Arnold said. Alphard glanced at him and smiled once more. Arnold put his hand out and Alphard took it at once. "My name is Arnold Gisned. If you want, we can be friends. Your parents don't have to find out. We won't tell them, will we, Dad?"

"No, of course not," David said, glancing once again in the direction of the Grey Goat. "And you don't have to call me 'Sir,' Alphard. Mister Gisned is just fine. I normally would not allow a boy your age to be in my home without a parent's permission. However, your family has obviously hurt you in some way, and because of that we will not tell them anything."

Alphard grinned widely, showing almost all of his teeth. His eyes shone with pure glee. Arnold was smiling as well; he didn't have many friends. The other boys in his school liked to tease him and steal his glasses off of his face.

Alphard glanced back towards the Grey Goat again. He looked down at the ground for a moment, as if thinking hard, and then looked up at Arnold.

"I'd like that," he said finally. Then, he looked at David hesitantly, apparently not used to talking to a grown-up that was not his stern, cold father. "Sir- I mean, Mister Gisned, may I come over tomorrow? My parents will be at work for the day. Is that all right?" He looked up hopefully at David.

"Of course, Alphard," David said. "Arnold will be home, won't you son?"

Arnold nodded. "Can you come over at noon?" The boy could not hide the eagerness in his voice. He had never been popular at school; in fact, the majority of the boys took to bullying Arnold because he was smaller and weaker than them. They would often steal his glasses and tease him. Arnold was thrilled at the prospect of a new friend.

Alphard nodded enthusiastically. He too looked excited to have a new friend. Arnold assumed from the way he had reacted to being invited over his house that he had not had many friends. His terribly prejudiced family was undoubtedly the reason.

"I'll be over at noon, then," Alphard said finally.

Arnold grinned. "All right, see you then," he said to the boy in front of him.

Alphard took a few steps back toward the restaurant, and then turned on his heel to face Arnold and his departing family.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "All of you."

Carolyn grinned and waved, while Joanne and David beamed at the young boy.

"You don't have to thank us, dear," Joanne said. She had a longing look in her eyes, as if she wished to run and give the boy a hug.

"Don't be a stranger now, son," David said right after.

Alphard nodded, still smiling, and then looked at Arnold.

"I hope we can be good friends," he said to Arnold, who nodded in agreement. Alphard then glanced towards the restaurant and sighed. "See you tomorrow," he said quietly before starting off back to the Grey Goat.

Arnold walked towards his home with the rest of his family, but he couldn't help glancing back at the Grey Goat every now and then. He saw Alphard reenter the restaurant, and Arnold couldn't help but wonder what excuse he was going to give his family for leaving for so long. He wondered if they would even care that their ten year old son had gone missing for a good twenty minutes. Either way, he was sure it would be uncomfortable for his new friend. However, Alphard was probably too excited about being invited to his first friend's house to care what his family had to say.

Arnold glanced up at his mother and father. They were exchanging dark looks. He looked away and took Carolyn's hand in his. His little sister glanced at him when he did this, but quickly smiled and squeezed his hand. All of his family members had shown incredible kindness that evening, and Arnold respected them all for it. It was not like he hadn't known his family to be kind; he was merely thankful that their kindness had made his new friend utterly bouncing with joy.

Ever since that night, Alphard Black and Arnold Gisned became close friends. They grew closer and closer each day, as Alphard continued to sneak over to the Gisneds' home as soon as his parents went to work. Curiously, Alphard had told Arnold that he lived at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, which was just four blocks down and one block over from Arnold's home. However, when Arnold had snuck down there to get another glimpse of the Blacks, he found that there was no Number Twelve.

Until the day that Professor Dumbledore had arrived at his home, Arnold had always felt as if Alphard was keeping a secret from him. Now that he had learned he was a wizard he was convinced that the Blacks were magical as well. They wore robes like Professor Dumbledore and they had referred to Arnold's family as Muggles. Arnold needed to talk to Alphard; he had to find out if his best friend was a wizard as well.

Alphard arrived at Arnold's house in the middle of the afternoon, just a few minutes after Professor Dumbledore had left. Arnold had the door open before the other boy could even knock. Alphard was grinning and he had a letter clutched in his left hand; it looked just like the letter that Arnold had been given, telling him of his acceptance to Hogwarts and what items he would need for school.

"Alph," Arnold said, "I have so much to ask you!" He could barely contain his excitement. He had controlled himself in front of his family and Professor Dumbledore, but now that he was with his best friend he could really show how he felt about finding out he was a wizard.

Alphard's grin grew wider. "I know! I saw Professor Dumbledore leaving your house when I was on my way over. I waited for him to Disapparate before I came over. You got accepted to Hogwarts, didn't you?"

Arnold nodded and Alphard punched the air in triumph. "Yes!" Alphard exclaimed with joy. He then turned to Arnold, his hazel eyes once again dancing with glee. "I really hoped that you would turn out to be a wizard! I'm sorry I didn't tell you about magic before. It's sort of a rule in our world that we can't let Muggles know what we are."

Arnold nodded once more. He had so many questions for Alphard, yet he had no idea where to begin. He didn't want to start prattling on; he didn't want to irritate his friend with dozens of questions. He suddenly realized that the two boys were still standing in the doorway of his home. Alphard seemed to realize this too, for he scurried in quickly. Arnold shut the door, knowing that Alphard was always afraid that Cygnus or Walburga would follow him to Arnold's house.

The two friends sat down upon a sofa in the sitting room. Arnold settled for asking Alphard his most pondered question yet; would Alphard's parents approve of him now that he was a wizard, too?

"You know," Arnold said, "I could meet your family now, right? They didn't like me because they thought I was a Muggle, but I'm not!"

Alphard's face fell, his eyes locked onto the floor. "You still can't meet them," he said sadly. "It's a bit hard to explain, but if you want I'll give it a go."

"Go on, then," Arnold encouraged. He wasn't the least bit disappointed at hearing he would not be able to meet the Blacks. They seemed very foul to Arnold. He had only wondered if Alphard's life could be made easier by not having to sneak around or hide his friendship with Arnold. It did not really surprise him that this could not be done.

"There are some witches and wizards that have no Muggles in their family line," Alphard said slowly, as if telling a complicated arithmetic problem. "We call them pure-bloods. My family is pure-blood, and as you saw that day at the Grey Goat, they really hate Muggles. To them, Muggle-borns are the same as Muggles. People like my family believe that Muggle-borns have no right to use magic, because they have dirty blood. There's a foul name that people like my family use to insult Muggle-borns, but I reckon you wouldn't want to hear it."

Alphard's eyes once again fluttered to the ground. He appeared to be greatly ashamed to have told his best friend that some people would not approve of him being a wizard because of his parents. Arnold didn't mind; there was all types of prejudice in the world and it didn't surprise him that the magical world had prejudiced people as well. He looked at Alphard and saw he was extremely uncomfortable. Arnold guessed that Alphard didn't agree with his family's beliefs.

"I want to hear the name, Alph," Arnold said strongly. "If some people at Hogwarts are going to call me by that name, I want to hear it first."

Alphard looked even more distressed by this. This was clearly a topic he hated to get into with his Muggle-born best friend. However, after a few seconds he nodded, although reluctantly.

"Mudblood," he said finally. "The word is Mudblood."

Arnold nodded. He had expected something much worse. There were words that he heard some of the neighbors calling each other late at night that were much fouler than the word Mudblood. Arnold surprised Alphard when he began to laugh.

Alphard looked up, his hazel eyes no longer showing guilt and sadness. He smiled as Arnold laughed harder, clutching his sides. Alphard began to laugh as well. Soon the two boys were doubled over on the sofa, howling with laughter.

"What is this, Arnold? Alphard?" Joanne had come in the room, startled by the noise of their laughter.

From the moment Alphard Black had arrived at their home the day after the incident at the restaurant, Joanne Gisned had loved and treated Alphard as one of her own. The boy was deeply touched, having never received his own mother's love, and normally behaved properly when in her home. The sight of the two boys rolling on the floor with laughter had brought a wide smile on Joanne's lined face. She loved Alphard as one of her own, and it moved her that the boy was actually happy for a change.

"Mum, I'm a Mudblood!" Arnold exclaimed, sending the boys into another fit of laughter.

Joanne Gisned gave the boys a confused look before returning to the kitchen. The boys continued laughing as Alphard sat down in a squishy armchair across from Arnold. Their glee was short-lived, however, when Arnold saw Alphard wince as he learned back in his chair. Arnold knew why; he had seen this before.

"Where is it this time?" Arnold asked him with a knowing look.

"My back," Alphard muttered as he stared at the floor once more. "I was cleaning the drawing room today. I accidentally dropped two of my mum's china plates. Mum heard them break and she called Father downstairs. It was the belt again."

Arnold clenched his fists, trying his best to stifle his anger. This was the third time this week that Pollux Black had used his belt to beat his youngest son. It had taken all of the Gisneds many months to get used to the fact that the boy was beaten regularly at home. There was nothing they could do except offer their home as a place of refuge for Alphard.

"Don't worry, Alph," Arnold said. "Soon we'll be at Hogwarts!"

Alphard's eyes found the floor once more. "That's what I've been worrying about. Cygnus is still at Hogwarts and so is my cousin Orion. If I don't get into Slytherin, or I get into trouble, they'll tell my mum and dad."

"What's a Slytherin?" Arnold inquired, hoping to take Alphard's mind off of his family troubles for a moment.

Alphard looked up and smirked. "Right, sorry," he said. "I forgot that you're new to this. Slytherin is one of the four Hogwarts houses. When we get to Hogwarts, we'll be sorted into one of the four houses. It all depends on what your strengths are."

"Really?" Arnold was intrigued now. He wanted Alphard to explain everything to him. He absorbed each word hungrily. "What are the other houses?"

"There's Gryffindor, which values bravery and chivalry. Then there's Ravenclaw, where the really smart ones go. There's also Hufflepuff, which takes the loyal and kind." Alphard paused for a moment to catch his breath.

"So what kind of people does Slytherin take?" Arnold asked. Although he wasn't sure that any house that accepted Cygnus Black was that good of a house after all.

"Slytherin takes the ambitious and cunning," Alphard explained as his eyes filled with sadness. "My whole family's been in Slytherin. There's a lot of pure-bloods in Slytherin. It's the house that's known for turning out a lot of Dark wizards."

"Oh," Arnold said, not knowing what else to say. "Is your family, you know, Dark?"

"Oh yes," Alphard confirmed. "They love the Dark Arts. There's all sorts of books on Dark curses and hexes in the library at home."

"Oh," Arnold said again. Suddenly he was not as excited for Hogwarts anymore. Alphard would likely be put in Slytherin, and Arnold would not because he was not a pure-blood. Also, if Cygnus recognized him, he would realize that Arnold was Muggle-born. If he caught Arnold hanging around Alphard, it would be much worse. Arnold didn't want his friend to be hurt, yet he didn't want to experience Hogwarts and the world of magic without him.

Alphard nodded solemnly. "Now you see my problem, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," replied Arnold quietly. "I wish your family wasn't so foul."

Alphard nodded again, frowning. "As do I," he said. Then, he looked up at Arnold, his hazel eyes dancing impishly. "You know, I'm going to run away when I'm older. I'll be smarter then, and I'll get away from them. It's the sort of thing that keeps my going."

"Well, if you do, you can always come here. You're here enough anyway to be a part of the family," Arnold said with a grin. He couldn't help but grin at the thought of Alphard never being beaten again. He could understand why the idea of running away was so appealing to Alphard.

"Arnold?" Alphard said in a low voice. "Can I tell you something?"

"Yeah," Arnold replied. "You can tell me anything, Alph."

"Er, well," Alphard started, "I just wanted to thank you for being such a good friend. No one's ever been as nice to me as you are."

Arnold smiled. "What are friends for?"