IV

Willy Wonka had come up with quite a few ideas of what a wizard dentist might look like in the time it took Florence to bring their guest upstairs, but Matthew Vicary was not like any of them. Willy had been brought to sit in the large orange armchair in the sitting room, where he was introduced to Vicary as the new surgical and dental operator from Mulpepper's Apothecary; and while Mr. Vicary began to examine the orthodontic appliance on Willy's head, Willy examined him back. Matthew Vicary was very tall and limby, with everything on his person seeming to be made from long, straight lines except his hair, which was very curly. He wore fine black trousers and a billowy black shirt and black waistcoat that looked like something from a Dickens story, except that the brocades on his waistcoat and the embroidered edges of the shirt's ruffles all sparkled with a silver iridescence. His boots were pointed and made of some kind of reptile's skin, and would have been quite fashionable if they had not been electric green. Over top of his clothes he wore a shiny coat made of what looked to be translucent white PVC like a raincoat, and Willy supposed that perhaps this was what passed for dentist's whites among wizards. It squeaked as he bent closer to Willy's head, drawing closer until they were almost nose to nose. Willy saw that his eyes were quite as green as his shoes, and thought he must have bought them to match.

"Remarkable, how Muggles find solutions to so many problems quite without magical help," Vicary muttered to McGonagall and Florean, who were hovering behind him. "It makes you wonder if we're letting our own brains go stagnant, not needing to use them quite so desperately."

"Perish the thought, Mr. Vicary," McGonagall said stiffly, but Florean chuckled, sitting down on the moss-colored sofa.

"Well, I wouldn't generalize, but I have met one or two wizards who would starve to death if they couldn't use their wands to summon their tray from the kitchen."

"Yes, and one can laugh at these Muggle contraptions all one wishes, or one can choose to learn from them," Vicary said quietly, prodding at one of the joints in Willy's cage. "Willy, can you explain to me how this device works? How it is attached?"

"Well, the braces are cemented onto my teeth," Willy answered slowly, trying to remember everything his father had explained to him. "They're meant to hold my teeth in the right places. But some of my teeth needed pulling into place from the outside, so there are elastic bands that connect from the braces to the cage. I think there are knobs on it to make it looser or tighter."

"Remarkable," Vicary said again, standing up. "It relies on the application of tension over several years to coax the teeth into growing where they ought to be. Very like the way Muggle gardeners will tie trees at a certain angle for a long time until they grow that way. My God, but Muggles are patient."

"Yes, well, I am not," McGonagall quipped. "Can you take it off him, Mr. Vicary?"

"Mechanically, yes," Vicary nodded. "The outside part can just be undone at the knobs and removed. And we can use a spell to vanish the wire and cause the cement to unstick. But before we do that, we should be sure his father didn't bewitch it to do something dreadful if it's tampered with. You never know."

Willy gulped. "You mean it might be booby trapped?"

"Only one way to find out," Vicary smiled gently. "We'll just have to ask it." As Willy pondered what he could possibly mean by that, Vicary took a wand out of one of the coat's plastic pockets and tapped it sharply against the knob at the top of his forehead. "Specialis revelio," he said, as Willy blinked at the sudden vibration. For a moment he wasn't sure if anything had happened or not, except that he thought he saw a bit of a red glow come from somewhere above his head. Then McGonagall leaned in, her eyes widening, and Florean got up off his couch and came closer.

"What? What is it?" Willy gasped, hoping his head was not now on fire or something like that. Florean reached out and patted the back of his hand.

"It's alright, Willy. Your orthodonture is showing us what spell your father put on it, and it looks like it's only the one. No traps."

"What does it look like?" asked Willy, for it was all happening above his head, and he was afraid to tilt backward to try and see.

"It's a red light," described Florean, "and it's showing us a little picture… of… ah. Of a little candle, and a snuffer putting it out."

"Well, I never," McGonagall hissed. "It's finite. He's used finite incantatem as a preventative."

"Hmmh," Vicary grunted, intrigued. "Devilishly clever, that."

"And that would explain why Willy hasn't suffered any ill effects from it," Florean nodded, "except of course for having to wear the silly thing in the first place."

"Excuse me," Willy said timidly, "but what's finite? What's it done to me?"

Florean gave Willy a smile and sat down on the corner of his coffee table. "Finite incantatem is a spell that… well, it stops other magic, like a snuffer putting out a candle. For instance, if I cast a spell to make a ball bounce, and then I want to stop it bouncing, I would use finite to stop the first spell. That's almost always how it's used – to stop a spell that's already been cast. But it appears that your father has done some tinkering with it, and in some way has built that spell into your orthodontic appliance. And so as long as you've had it on, that device has stopped any magic your brain has produced before it got more than an inch or so away from your head. That's why it hasn't hurt you – when someone stops up their magic entirely, it's like stopping up a water pipe. It'll eventually force its way out, and that's bad news for them. But your magic hasn't been stopped up inside you, it's just been negated at the very moment your brain put it out."

"Like I said – devilishly clever," Vicary reiterated.

"Emphasis on the devilish part," McGonagall grumbled. "Stopping a poor boy from ever knowing he was magic. It's inexcusable. I knew Wilbur was… perhaps disgruntled is the proper word, but… I never… in all my days…." And then her face became very cross, and she began to mutter to herself as she looked for something in her handbag.

"So…," Willy stammered, "so… you mean I really am a wizard?" Florean patted his arm again and chuckled.

"Almost certainly, Willy. But we can find out for sure once we get this thing off you. Vicary?"

"Yes, of course," the wizard dentist nodded, and he replaced his wand in its pocket and took out a screwdriver in its stead. "Mechanics, and then magic," he grinned, and then he set to work taking apart Willy's headgear.

When it was done, at first Willy felt only a curious looseness about his whole head. It was like how he imagined it would feel for an astronaut to float in space; his head felt like it did not weigh enough, like it was a balloon tethered very tenuously to his neck. He felt air on his scalp and realized that his hair was rucked up at a funny angle where the head strap had been, and his chin was cold without the little plastic cup it had rested in. He closed his mouth fully, feeling the rough surfaces of his braces against the soft insides of his mouth, and thought how incredibly warm it was on his teeth with his mouth fully closed. He had to stretch his face in several funny directions to get it working right – it had been pulled into one position for so much of his life that he thought he might have to learn to talk all over again.

"Well, there's step one," Florean smiled, smoothing his hair down now that he was able to get to it. Vicary was holding the headgear up to one of the colored lamps, looking at it from all angles.

"Could I keep this? For display and research? I love Muggle dental tools."

"Of course," Willy mumbled, a little dazed at how loosely his head wobbled when he nodded. Vicary grinned and put the orthodonture into a bag that was sat by the kitchen door. Then he came back at Willy with his wand instead of the screwdriver.

"Alright then, my boy. Pop open that mouth and let's see about getting all those bits off your teeth." Willy eyed the wand, remembered what McGonagall had said about not wanting a wand pointing at important body parts, and gulped; but Vicary only put out one hand and gently tilted Willy's face back by the chin. He took a few moments to study the braces while Willy held his lips back in a grimace. "Right," he said finally, "just hold still for me a moment. I'm going to vanish this wire first." Willy almost nodded, then remembered he was supposed to hold still. Vicary put the very tip of his wand against the wire that ran between all the brackets on Willy's top teeth, and he braced for whatever was coming. But Vicary only said, "Evanesco," and a little puff of silvery smoke popped out of Willy's mouth. The sudden release of tension made his head bob backward a little, and he had that uncomfortable sensation – like he always had when his father took the wire off to readjust it – that his teeth would all just fall out. Willy pushed his tongue up the front of his two front teeth, felt the empty space between the two brackets, and managed a stiff grin.

"There, now, that was easy," Florean smiled as Vicary tilted Willy's head down so he could prod the bottom wire as well. There was a second puff of smoke, and then Willy was left to sit back in the chair while Vicary contemplated the next step. It was very hard not to let his teeth touch each other, but they felt so loose that he was afraid any pressure at all would move them. After thinking for a minute or two, Vicary waggled a finger in the air and motioned for Willy to open his mouth again.

"I'm going to un-stick these brackets from your teeth, Willy," he said, "because they're glued on, and I'm afraid if I just vanish them it might hurt your teeth, or leave great clumps of the cement behind. I'll try to do it one at a time so you don't choke on them, and you can just spit them out like spitting out the pips from a fruit." And he pulled a little bag from one of his pockets, apparently intending to keep the brackets for his research as well. Willy thought this even odder than keeping the headgear, but he nodded and opened his mouth. Vicary put the tip of his wand against one of the brackets on Willy's front teeth, and said, "Disepoxemise." There was a very quiet pop! and the bracket fell down onto his lip. He picked it up and dropped it in the bag.

"One down, twenty-seven to go," McGonagall commented, and summoned herself a cup of tea from the kitchen with her wand.

It took what felt like a very long time to un-stick all the brackets, and they got a bit stumped when they got to his molars because here there were not glued-on brackets but great metal bands wrapped around the teeth instead. In the end, Mr. Vicary opted to vanish the bands, since they did not appear to be cemented, and this proved to be successful. The last thing that remained was to see what state Willy's teeth were actually in without the orthodonture. Willy sat and grinned very awkwardly while all three adults bent down to stare at his mouth.

"Why, they're not crooked at all!" McGonagall huffed, and Florean tilted his head equivocally.

"Not severely, no. A few of them could do with turning round the right way, and that one there is leaning," he said, pointing to one of Willy's canines. "But it's nothing like bad enough to need that contraption."

"No indeed," Vicary nodded, and he brought his wand up to Willy's mouth again. "That'll fix right up. Hold still, Willy. Dentes directiates." There was a little glow of bluish-purple light from the end of Vicary's wand, and Willy felt an uncomfortable crawling sensation inside his gums. When it stopped, he cautiously let his teeth come together, but there was no more feeling of looseness. They seemed to fit perfectly on top of each other for the first time, and Willy ran his tongue around the arc of his mouth and marveled at the smooth and unobstructed transition from one tooth to the next. "Excellent," Vicary grinned, standing back up and wiping his wand tip with a cloth before putting it away in a pocket of the PVC coat. As he did so, he checked the time on a fob watch that dangled from the brocade waistcoat. "Merlin's beard, is that the time? I've got to get back to the apothecary! Got an appointment with some boy who's knocked his teeth out playing Quidditch this morning, and I want to get this orthodontic appliance thing set up in my display case before he gets in. Who've you got running the shop downstairs, Florean, if you're up here?"

"Jerome is working afternoons until the end of the summer holiday," Florean replied nonchalantly, glancing at a clock by the door, which Willy noticed was shaped like an owl. "I told him to come in at half-past twelve today and open up for the after-lunch crowd."

"I thought he and Vera were moving to Canterbury?" McGonagall asked, and Florean shook his head.

"No, they found a house they liked in Camden, and Vera wants to raise the baby close to Diagon Alley so they feel connected to the community. He starts his new job in the autumn, but I'm keeping him on until the end of the school rush. Well, then, Willy—" And Florean turned round to bring Willy back into the conversation, for which he was grateful. "Just one more thing left to do, hmm?"

"What's that?" Willy asked, still prodding at one of his incisors with his tongue. Florean answered by taking his own wand out of his back pocket and presenting it to Willy handle-first.

"Finding out what exactly your dad's been holding back with that headgear," Florean smiled. "Wave this about and see what happens."

Willy took the wand cautiously, not really sure what to do (and not really sure how he would feel if it was suddenly discovered that he could do no magic at all and this had all been for nothing). It felt too big for his grasp, and very foreign in his hand. But Florean gave him a reassuring nod, and so he did the only thing that made sense; he aimed the wand at a stack of magazines that was sat under the overhanging part of the coffee table and wiggled it, at the same time thinking I want to move that magazine very loudly in his head. After the second or third wiggle, there was a little spit of sparks from the wand tip, and the magazine at the top of the stack jerked and flung itself off onto the floor.

"That wasn't much," he said disappointedly, although he was grateful at least something had happened. McGonagall, however, was clapping softly and smiling, and Florean laughed happily.

"Well, that wand wasn't made for you!" he reassured, patting Willy on the shoulder and taking his wand back. "Wands don't work very well for people they haven't decided to attach themselves to. When you get your very own wand, you'll be able to do lots more magic with it. If you weren't a wizard, Willy, you wouldn't have gotten my wand to do anything at all."

"See, Mr. Wonka?" McGonagall smiled. "I told you the book was never wrong."

"When do I get my own wand?" asked Willy. Florean put his hands in his pockets.

"Later this summer, when we buy your school supplies," he grinned. "But in the meantime, we've got the whole holiday to get you settled in before you start thinking about school. So, Willy: what would you like to do first?"

Willy thought about this for a moment, smelling the scent of raspberries wafting in from the kitchen, and then he grinned widely with his newly straightened teeth.

"May I have some ice cream, please?"

All three adults laughed merrily, and Florean ruffled Willy's hair again as he said, "Oh, I think I can manage that."

The four of them made their way downstairs to the shop, and Willy said goodbye to Mr. Vicary while he ate a bowl of the most delicious raspberry ice cream he had ever tasted. McGonagall gave Willy a gentle pat on the head, told him she would see him at the start of school term, and then made her farewells before heading toward what appeared to be a bookshop down the street. Willy sat at the soda counter and ate his ice cream, listening to Florean explain what some of the more interesting-looking sweets on display were made of and watching him dish them out to customers. He was introduced to Jerome Jordan, a flashy looking young man with an afro-hairstyle and a very cheeky grin, and he watched him make floats and milkshakes for several customers who all seemed to be there as much to hear his jokes as to have an ice cream. Willy liked Jerome very much, and was glad to hear that he would see him every afternoon until the summer holiday ended.

When Willy had finished his ice cream, Florean asked Jerome to take care of the shop for a while so they could go and run some errands. Willy followed him outside, watching him say amiable hellos to several tables full of customers, and marveled at how it felt to walk about on the street with nobody staring at him.

"What sort of errands are we doing, Mr. Fortescue?" he asked, trotting after Florean and trying not to get distracted by all of the shops. They were heading back down Diagon Alley in the direction Willy had come this morning, although there were quite a few more people about on the street now that it was afternoon. Florean smiled, slowing his walk so that Willy could stay right beside him without needing to hold his hand.

"You can call me Florean, if you'd like, Willy," he said. "You don't have to be formal with me like you will with the adults at school."

"Alright," Willy replied, and Florean tucked his hands in his pockets as Willy was beginning to see was his characteristic way.

"I saw that you had to leave your home with just your school bag," Florean went on, "and that your dad didn't exactly leave your bedroom where you could find it to pack anything up. So I thought we might need to go and get you some clothes to wear this summer, and perhaps some small items like a toothbrush, and a hair brush, all that sort of thing. How does that sound?"

"Will they be ordinary clothes, or wizard clothes?" Willy asked; the boy he had seen in the pub that morning was now poking about in the discount rack outside a secondhand shop, and his butternut squash hat was starting to turn brown at the edges over his stringy blond hair. Florean saw what he was looking at and chuckled.

"Well, any clothes are wizard clothes if a wizard is wearing them," he grinned, "but I know what you mean. I suppose we can start off with some ordinary clothes from a Muggle shop, and then perhaps in the future, if you see something more interesting you'd like to wear here in a wizard shop, you can start collecting things in your own style."

"Can I have a turtleneck jumper?" Willy probed, and Florean laughed.

"You can have whatever you'd like, although it'll be a bit too warm for a turtleneck jumper until the autumn. Come along, let's see what we can find."

Florean took Willy out through the Leaky Cauldron and back onto Charing Cross, which looked very bland and ordinary after the riotous exuberance of Diagon Alley. They walked south through Covent Garden on their way to the Strand, and out here Florean did hold Willy's hand, which was a good thing because Willy had no idea where he was and was prone to gazing up at all the buildings and signs. While they walked, Willy asked Florean a great many questions and was relieved to find that, as McGonagall had said, Florean quite enjoyed answering them.

"Do wizard schools have uniforms like Muggle schools?" asked Willy as they walked past a series of pubs, and Florean nodded.

"Yes, but of course, you can wear your ordinary clothes when you're not going to classes."

"Are they…," Willy began, but he wasn't sure what he was asking. Florean seemed to guess, however, and he chuckled.

"They won't be so very different than the Muggle school uniforms I've seen. There's a wizard's robe, of course, but underneath it you'll have an ordinary shirt and trousers, and a cardigan for when it's chilly. Oh, and of course, a necktie in your house colors."

"Are there houses like at Muggle schools?" Willy asked. "How many are there?"

"There are four of them. Not precisely like Muggle school houses," Florean explained. "Hogwarts is a castle, and so all the dormitories are in the same building. But you'll stay with your housemates through all seven years, and each house has colors and a crest, and there's a great deal of camaraderie, so in that sense, I suppose they are much like houses at a Muggle school."

"What are they called?" asked Willy. "Are they named after famous people like at Muggle schools?"

"Yes, the four witches and wizards who founded Hogwarts," Florean nodded. "They're called Ravenclaw, who wear blue; Hufflepuff, who wear yellow; Slytherin, who wear green; and Gryffindor, who wear red."

"No purple?" said Willy, disappointed, and Florean grinned.

"The school color itself is purple, if that helps." Willy thought that it did, but only a little.

"Which house were you in when you were at school?"

"Good old Ravenclaw," Florean said fondly. "I think I still have my old house Quidditch pennant somewhere."

"Will I be in Ravenclaw because I live with you, or does it go by surname, or by random drawing?" Willy asked. Florean shook his head.

"Neither. When you get to school, on your first night, Professor McGonagall will put a magic hat on your head, and the hat will announce which house you belong in. It goes by personality, you see." Willy eyed Florean sideways as they crossed the street, to see if this was some kind of joke, but Florean looked quite as he usually did, and so Willy reckoned he must be telling the truth.

"What sort of people go into each house?" he asked, hoping at least one of them sounded like his own sort. Florean stopped for a moment on the street corner, his face shifting as though he were thinking very carefully about how to answer this, and Willy got the impression that he was very keen to answer it the right way.

"The hat…," Florean began, casting about for the best words. "It looks at how a person thinks, how they see the world. What is most important to them. Ravenclaw, for instance: you get put into Ravenclaw because you enjoy thinking itself, because you like to learn new things and remember old things, and because you're full of ideas. And if you are in trouble, you'll be sure to use your brain to try and get out of it first, before trying anything else."

"I have lots of ideas about chocolate," Willy said hopefully. "Does that count?"

"It might do," Florean chuckled.

"What about the others?" Willy went on, and Florean obliged.

"Well, Gryffindors are quite the opposite," he said. "They're quick and decisive, and they act on instinct more than on contemplation. Lots of passion, lots of nerve. Hufflepuffs are steady as rocks. They care a great deal about fairness and honesty, and they work ten times harder than the rest of us. And Slytherins…." Florean paused halfway down the Strand, collecting his thoughts again before he finished. "Slytherins are determined, and they get things accomplished. They can find a way around almost any problem, and they are dogged survivors. Some things have been happening in recent years, Willy, things I don't want to bother you with today, but because of them you are going to hear a lot of people's opinions about the different houses and the people in them, especially Slytherin, so I want to be very clear when I say this: there is no good or bad house, Willy, just four groups of children who see the world in four different ways. Nobody is better or worse just because they are in a certain house. And I think you are a clever enough boy to figure out whether someone is a wrong 'un or not, no matter what house they are in. Do you understand?"

Willy nodded. He did understand, he supposed, in a round-about way. A lot of people had gotten ideas about him just because of his silly orthodonture, decided he was soft or that he had a disease or something, and they hadn't bothered to find out anything about him. He wouldn't like to do that to anybody else, and he told Florean so. Florean patted his shoulder and smiled.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that. Now let's go and get you some new clothes."

Florean took Willy into the Woolworths on the Strand, where one could buy all sorts of things all in the one shop. Willy was surprised that Florean knew his way around the place so well, when there were so many interesting wizard shops in Diagon Alley; but Florean reassured him that there was nothing wrong with a good Muggle shop if they had something you wanted, and besides – his daughter Florence liked to wear things like flared trousers and listen to Muggle records, and so he often came here to buy things for her. "And I've been known to go and see what the Muggles are selling on Carnaby Street for myself," he added quietly as they looked through a display of shirts. "Easy for wizards to blend in there."

True to his word, Florean let Willy pick out whatever he liked, although there were no turtleneck jumpers for sale so early in the summer. They bought Willy some plain tee-shirts and some collared shirts, some denim trousers and some khaki trousers, and even a new pair of fashionable shoes with heels. They also bought some very boring things like socks and underpants and a toothbrush and a comb for his hair. Florean then surprised Willy by taking him through other parts of the shop, where he got some notebooks and pencils and even his own copy of the Stevie Wonder record he had shown McGonagall. Then they went to the Pick and Mix candy display, where Florean let Willy get one of everything to take home and try. It was the best fun Willy had ever had, and he told Florean this afterward as they sat in a hamburger restaurant on Haymarket, their shopping bags tucked under the table at their feet.

"Well, if that's all it takes to make you happy, Willy, then I'm in for an easy time of it," Florean smiled, poking dubiously at the American-style chips in front of him. It hadn't really been very long since they had eaten lunch, but Willy had been desperate to eat a hamburger now that he could put one right into his mouth without cutting it up, and Florean had obliged him. Willy grinned back at him, but then he thought of something as his feet shuffled against the Woolworth bags.

"I must be costing you a terrible lot of money, though," he said morosely, and he put down his half-a-hamburger guiltily. They had bought him a whole wardrobe today, and Willy was thinking of how often they would have to do this again as he got bigger. Florean had told him that he would be at school for seven years, and that was a lot of shirt sizes to go through. Florean, however, was shaking his head.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Willy. I don't want you worrying about anything from now on except doing well at your school work and having fun."

"But it's very expensive, all this," Willy said doubtfully, although he did begin to eat his hamburger again. Florean shrugged.

"I did it once already with Florence, I think I can manage again. I don't exactly do poorly for myself, you know; I'm the only wizard ice cream shop in London." He gave Willy a wink at this, taking a sip of his soda and looking at it with disappointment; he had wanted to try some of the American-style Muggle ice cream, but the machine had been broken. Willy looked at him curiously, remembering his father's very low opinion of sweet-shops and confectioners and wondering if he had just been trying to discourage Willy from such a career.

"Do you make very much money, then?" he asked Florean, and his guardian gave him a roguish smirk.

"When you get to be a man, Willy," he said, sounding very philosophical, "and you make money at your job, as long as you pay your bills and have what you need to get on with life, you can spend the rest of your money on whatever you wish. You can also put away the extra and not spend it at all, although some people think that they must spend every last knut they have on expensive things so that everyone will know that they have a lot of money. It's alright if the things you like are expensive. But they don't have to be. Myself, well… the things I like to spend money on are secondhand clothes and interesting food, and things I find in Muggle junk shops. None of those things cost a lot of money. As a result, I find that I have a great deal more money left over than most people think I do when they look at me." He reached over and took the pickle that Willy had discarded from his hamburger, popping it into his mouth. "Don't feel like you're a burden to me, Willy. In fact, at this particular point in my life, I think you're just what I needed."

"What do you mean, sir? I mean – Florean," Willy asked, correcting himself sheepishly. Florean smiled at him.

"This time next year, Willy, my little girl will be all grown up and finished with school. She'll be off to start her own life, finding herself a job and getting her own place to live, and there I would be, all by myself in my flat and feeling rather old and lonely – except now you'll be there, and I get to do the whole adventure of helping someone grow up all over again."

"Won't Florence work in your shop when she finishes school?" asked Willy, and Florean shrugged wistfully.

"No, I don't think so. She's never been terribly interested in ice cream and sweets, unless it's eating them. I suppose some parents would be upset that their child didn't want to go into the family business, but I don't see the point in it; as long as she find something she likes to do, and she makes enough money doing it that she has everything she needs, I'll be happy for her. Although I do wish she would decide on something soon. I'd feel much better if she had some solid plans."

"I'm very interested in sweets," Willy offered, "and not just in eating them." Florean nodded.

"Like I said, Willy – I think you and I are exactly what we each needed."

Back in Florean's flat that evening, they played Willy's new Stevie Wonder record and ate some of his Pick and Mix candy while they put all of his new clothes away in the spare room that would now be his room. Florence, who had been avoiding them like a plague for most of the day, came out of her room when she heard the record, and she actually stayed and spoke with Willy for a while as he arranged his socks in a drawer, although she mostly stood in the corner and bounced along with the music and blew bubbles instead of helping them put away clothes. Willy's new room had a desk, where he stacked his new notebooks and pencils, and a bookshelf where Florean said he could put his school books in the summer, and a bed that was built into the wall with little shelves around the headboard. The walls were papered with a yellow, green, orange, and purple design of what looked like dots from a distance but were actually little mushroom shapes. Willy was disappointed that it was not enchanted wallpaper like in the kitchen, but Florean told him that he could decorate the room with whatever he liked to cover it, and that cheered him up. Florence had certainly done exactly that with her room; Willy got a glimpse of it as she went back in, and the whole room was a riot of personality, with hanging paper lanterns and lava lamps and wall-to-wall pinned up photographs, some that moved and some that had been cut from Muggle magazines. Not even a speck of the wallpaper was visible.

After putting Willy's things away they had supper, although Florence ate very little of it because she had a date to go on and wanted to eat popcorn at the Muggle cinema her boyfriend was taking her to. Willy kept his mouth full and nodded while she talked at length about Dirk – who was Muggle-born and always wanted to show her Muggle films – and about how he was at least better than Davey – who she had dated in fifth year and who was very boring and never wanted to do anything except kissing – and about someone named Bertha, who had been a great annoyance to Florence before she graduated and how pleasant the past year had been without her. Florence hoped that Bertha's cousin, who started this year, would not be equally annoying. Willy nodded agreement with this because he wasn't precisely sure how to respond.

When she had gone on her date, Florean gave Willy a dish of some kind of jammy dessert and took him to the sitting room, where he taught Willy some more things about wizarding life, like how to count wizard money, and what Quidditch was, and the types of classes he would be taking in his first year. Then he showed Willy where to hang his toothbrush – the wallpaper in the bathroom was a repeating pattern of pink, purple, and red waves, made almost dizzying by its reflection in the mirror – and Willy took a bath, discovering with a squeal that the bar of soap yelled at him when he did not wash properly between his toes.

Willy knew that there were going to be a great many surprises for him as he learned to be a wizard, but he did wish that so many of them did not involve talking inanimate objects.

When he climbed into bed that night, in the new pair of purple pyjamas they had bought that afternoon, Florean came in and tucked the blanket up to his chin. Willy was licking his brace-less teeth for the hundredth time that evening, amazed at how smooth they were, and he looked up at Florean seriously.

"Do you have ice cream with caramel in it?" he asked, and Florean chuckled.

"Several kinds, actually. Why?"

"I couldn't eat caramels with my braces on," Willy replied, "and now I want to eat lots of it. Can I have some tomorrow?"

"You can have whatever ice cream you'd like tomorrow," Florean smiled, "and every other day this summer, as long as you eat proper meals every day too. Have you decided what you're going to do with all your free time between now and start of term? Mr. Vicary who fixed your teeth has a boy your age, and they just moved into the city; you could be each other's first new friends, if you'd like to go and meet him."

"Yes, I might," Willy nodded against his pillow. "But – Florean?"

Florean stopped halfway through reaching to put out the lights. "Yes, Willy?"

"Could I work in your shop this summer too? So I can learn how to make ice cream with magic? I want to learn everything I can about how to make sweets."

Florean stood very still, but a slow smile spread across his face, and he was blinking a little faster behind his gold-rimmed spectacles.

"Absolutely, Willy," he said after a long moment, leaning down to smooth Willy's hair with one hand. "Nothing would make me happier than to teach someone what I know. Nothing in the whole world."