Toffee was amazing, sweet and sticky and easy to put charms into that wouldn't be released until you ate it, but the best things about it were also the worst. Sticky and sweet, it had glued George's hair into a mass of caramel-coloured gooeyness, and was taking forever to melt out. He'd been standing under hot water, brushing soapy hands through globs of ginger hair for twenty minutes now, and it felt like it was finally working. Either that, or his fingers were irreversibly pruned, a distinct possibility as well.
He'd left the door open as usual, and heard the flare of the Floo. "Be out in a minute," he shouted over the sound of the water. Must be Ron, or Charlie, to show up without arranging beforehand. Nobody else just dropped by anymore... "Grab a beer and a seat, if you want..."
Because anyone who could get through the Floo was certainly someone he'd offer a beer to anyway.