Stars dotted the night sky. The inky blue night was glowing because the lights of the heavily populated regions of England. Only a few stars could be seen. Dudley Dursley could remember a trip to the country and looking up in the night sky to see a dazzling display that just couldn't be found on Privet Drive. He never really cared until that night; the night the stars went out. He couldn't see what had seized his wrists, but he could feel them. He remembered Harry shouting to cover his mouth. Then there was a silver-white light and the cold left and the stars returned. Dudley had believed he would never see the stars again; that the last thing he would know was that impenetrable blackness.

Harry Potter had saved Dudley's life and had never asked for a word of thanks. When the morning came, he, his mother and father, and Harry would prepare to leave this house and go to safety with the Order of the Phoenix, from a man so terrible, wizards and witches dreaded even his name. This evil man who used the name Voldemort, killed regular people for sport, Dudley knew. This man had tried to kill Harry as a child and had failed and he was still trying to kill Harry. Then Dudley remembered something long forgotten, how one can not think of something for years but suddenly recall a vivid detail: the giant Hagrid had said, "Nobody lived once You-Know-Who decided ter kill 'em, 'cept you, Harry."

Harry had fought this horrible man again and beat him, and a second time, and a third time, and a fourth: five times Harry had survived the Dark Lord. Somehow, he had found time to rescue Dudley Dursley, the child who bullied his cousin from the time they met, who had been raised to deride and ridicule his cousin. Dudley had thought hard about Harry for more than a year, now. Dudley shuddered with tears of shame when he was forced to come to the inescapable conclusion that Harry always had been the better man.

Dudley wished he could say to Harry's face how sorry he was, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt like a coward. He didn't tell Harry, choosing to take advantage of the fact that Harry always shut himself in his room when he wasn't at Hogwarts or away spending his summer holidays with his friends, obviously much better friends than Dudley had. Dudley had always tormented Harry with his father's encouragement, had watched Harry eat scraps while Dudley was well fed, had learned that Harry was worth less than one of Aunt Marge's dogs, and that didn't sit right with Dudley anymore. Maybe he was growing up.

It occurred to Dudley that many people who grow up bullies, continued to be so as an adult and he could no longer deny that he was a bully. Not since Harry had saved his life and he had been forced to re-examine the way he had treated Harry all his life. Dudley didn't want to be that person. He didn't like that Harry hated him. He didn't like that his family treated Harry like a waste of space. Maybe, just maybe, Professor Dumbledore had been right about the damage Dudley had sustained in his upbringing. What was probably the most important point, was that Dudley didn't want to be a bad person.

Morning rolled around all too soon. Dudley hadn't slept at all. His mother could be heard in her normal routine, rattling around the kitchen. Instead of waiting for her to come and get him, Dudley got up, dressed and went downstairs. His mother had made his usual massive breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, toast and marmalade. Dudley didn't have much of an appetite this morning, which worried his mother. He ate two eggs and a sausage and pushed the rest away.

"Diddykins," said Petunia, "We have a very big day today and you're going to need your strength." She rushed up Dudley, clearly fawning over her son, who had grown quite broad shouldered and had turned most of his fat into muscle.

"I'm just not that hungry this morning."

"Oh, I understand completely my ickle Diddykins, and it's not your fault. We won't be gone forever. You'll be having tea with your little friends in no time." Petunia smiled sympathetically. "I know. It's hard to be," her smile fell into a harsh expression in which her jaw worked furiously, "forced to leave your home." Her eyes were focused on the vague distance as though recalling something slimy that she had difficulty scrubbing. Her congenial expression returned. "Everything is going to be okay, Sweetums."

At that moment, Vernon came down the stairs. He was looking quite pale and looked as though he had swallowed a basketball. "Dudders, finished your breakfast?"

"Our little angel isn't hungry."

"I don't blame him. The situation that Potter's created for us would make anyone sick. If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, 'We should have marched that good for nothing-'"

"He's not good for nothing!" Dudley said forcibly. He took a cup of tea. "I'm going to go pack." Without another word, he went upstairs.

He knocked at Harry's door and said, "Harry, breakfast is ready downstairs. I brought you some tea to start with." There was no answer. "I'll just leave it here."

Dudley went to his room and began to pack his cloths. He wasn't interested in returning to being morbidly obese again, so he put his weights on the bed. In an hour, he had packed his weights, his cloths, and had put his Gameboy Color in his tote so he could take it out in the car. He hauled it all out to the car and went back into his room to see if he had missed anything. He heard the tinkle of breaking china in the hall followed by Harry swearing loudly. Dudley cringed. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to leave the tea there.

Seeing that he had all of his essentials packed, Dudley went back downstairs where his mother and father were waiting impatiently. His father, as portly as Dudley had once been-though Dudley was still just as massive-was wearing his travel coat and his mother looked, as usual, as if she were on her way to church. The time passed with another argument between Harry and Vernon. Dudley's father was having a hard time with the notion of leaving and putting his life in the hands of wizards and witches.

By the time the argument was resolved however, Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle had already arrived. Harry had found Vernon's reaction to Diggle's pocket watch quite amusing. Hestia's indignation towards Vernon and Petunia's indifference to Harry's plight only served refresh Dudley's feelings of shame.

Harry was saying, "They think I'm a waste of space, actually, but I'm used to-"

"I don't think you're a waste of space," said Dudley.

Harry looked back at Dudley with a bemused expression. Dudley could see that his cousin was thinking very hard.

"Well...er...thanks, Dudley."

Dudley needed to say it. He had waited to long and this was his last chance. "You saved my life."

"Not really. It was your soul the dementors would have taken..." but Harry was looking at Dudley as though he had never seen him before.

As everyone said their farewells, and the Dursleys left with Hestia and Dedalus, Dudley smiled inwardly. If the dementors had blown a new personality into him, as Harry suggested, then it was for the better. Dudley was sure of it. Dudley climbed into the back seat with his mother, Dedalus between them, while Hestia sat in the front passenger seat. Dudley's father glanced nervously back to the bulge in Dedalus' waistcoat once more before cranking the engine and backing out of the driveway.

Once Vernon had pulled down Magnolia Crescent and exiting onto the main road, Hestia began giving driving directions. As they drove, Hestia looked sharply out the window as something long and slender hit the ground and was buried halfway in.

"Stop the car," she said forcibly, opening the door barely waiting for the vehicle to come to a complete stop.

Dudley looked in the mirror and saw his father's face turning a blotchy shade of puce. He was clearly annoyed by the delay. Hestia returned with a broomstick, her face ashen gray, panicked, and looking frightfully into the sky.

Hestia called out, "The sky is full of Death Eaters."

"That broomstick," said Dedalus as Hestia climbed in with the Firebolt, "it's not Harry's?"

"Of all of the Order, he's the only one that owns a Firebolt." She directed Vernon to drive again.

"How did they know? Who knew we were moving Harry tonight?"

"Only the people directly involved in the plan."

Vernon had finally lost patience. "If you don't mind, would one of you ruddy well tell me what you're on about?"

Hestia said, "Harry's guard is under attack, and if they don't get Harry, they're bound to come after us."

Vernon's face, which had deepened to a shade of purple, suddenly lost all color. His mustache began to twitch on one side. He was muttering. Dudley caught things like, "Should have known..." and, "This is what decent people get..." and, "Leave it to your lot..."

This was more than Hestia could stand. "Just what is that supposed to mean?" she roared. "You can't even light a bloody pipe without a match!"

"That's rich from someone who doesn't even know how to drive!"

"Well at least I don't have to plug something in every time I want something done!"

"Now," said Dedalus in a placating voice, "we should all at least try to get along."

Vernon and Hestia both turned around and shouted simultaneously, "You stay out of it!"

Petunia was sitting rigid with eyes as wide as saucers. Dudley, on other hand, found the exchange quite amusing. His father seemed to have met his match in Hestia Jones.

"...Absolute disregard for the welfare of your son's very own flesh and blood!" Hestia raged.

"...No consideration whatsoever for normal people and their own needs!" Vernon roared.

"Yes, while we take precious time out of our lives to make sure a no-good, brainless git like yourself doesn't end up werewolf meat. How inconsiderate of me!"

"I wouldn't be in danger if your lot would have stayed off my doorstep sixteen years ago!" Vernon's roars seemed to shake the vehicle. Petunia's face was screwed up in a tight grimace, simply waiting for the storm to pass.

"If it hadn't been for our lot, no, if it hadn't been for your own nephew, you wouldn't have had a doorstep sixteen years ago! You'd be dead! That's what Harry Potter did for you and that's what he's doing now!"

Hestia seemed to have had the last word. Vernon might have simply realized what was being done for him, but Dudley knew better. He knew that the only reason his father had stopped shouting was because he couldn't think of anymore insults.

"These friendly excursions are so nice," said Dedalus, weakly.

They drove for another hour in uneasy silence. Dudley finally pulled out his Gameboy and Dedalus was immediately alight with curiosity. Dudley was almost sorry he had pulled it out as he now found himself explaining all about the history of video games, how they worked (without magic), and even trying to muddle through what their purpose was. Dedalus asked very deep questions that Dudley felt he wasn't bright enough to adequately answer. How was he supposed to know what video games were for? They were fun.

Hestia turned back and said, "Dedalus, are you paying any mind to what's behind us?"

"It's a man on a motorcycle," said Dedalus, impatiently and turned back to Dudley's game.

"It's a man on a motorcycle that's been following us since we went through Wycomb."

Dudley looked back and saw, not very far off, a man on the road behind them. His long hair blew back in the wind and his face had mean, flattened look to it, as if he spent a great deal of time being pummeled by cricket bats. He wore a heavy, black leather jacket and matching chaps.

Hestia said, "Turn here and let's see what he does."

"What's it all about? We haven't done anything," Vernon said, becoming quite alarmed.

"Just turn."

Vernon did as he was told and the motorcyclist followed. "They only want to know where the boy is! If you tell them, we won't have anything to worry about."

"Shut it." Hestia was looking out the passenger wing mirror. "We're not far from where we're going. It's protected, but I don't want them following us all the way the enchantment's perimeter."

"So sorry. I don't drive like a maniac! I don't know how to lose him!"

"You needn't bother. You'd never lose a Death Eater."

Dedalus now looked in the rear view mirror. The man must have realized that he had been spotted because he fell back several paces. Soon, he was out of sight. Just as Hestia sighed with relief and began instructing Vernon on how to get back on course, something hit the back of the car, hard.

Vernon roared, "NOT MY TAILLAMPS!"

Two people flying brooms appeared on either side of the car. The door windows shattered as stunners hit them with full force. Hestia's wand was out and she returned several red jets of light to the flier on her side of the vehicle. Dedalus leaned over Dudley and began casting stunners to the other flier. Vernon was shouting incomprehensibly over the commotion and the car was swerving to and fro.

Hestia took aim at one of the Death Eater's brooms and shouted, "Finite incantatum!" The Death Eater, a muscular woman with face reminiscent of a horse hit the ground with bone-crunching force. She bounced several times, hitting the pavement quite hard and finally sliding to a halt. For as long as Dudley could see her, she didn't move again. A jet of red light hit the hood of the car. Everyone became painfully aware of the loss of speed, despite the fact that Vernon's giant foot was pounding the accelerator.

Dedalus said, "Hestia, we need to get word that we're stuck and fighting!"

Hestia pointed her wand in the direction of distant trees and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" A silvery-white dolphin burst from her wand and sped off. The car finally coasted to a stop. Hestia wasted no time. Diving from the car, she let lose a flurry of curses in the direction of the remaining flier, who Dudley could now see was a burly man with blond hair. The man on the motorcycle reappeared and joined the attack. Now Dedalus was out of the car, shouting curses. Hestia, for the most part, was silent. Dudley suspected she was a more talented spell caster than Dedalus, who often tripped over his incantations, but managed to make the motorcycle man do a kind of tap dance, and the flier spin around in circles for several moments.

From out in the distance, the woman could be seen running to the scene. As she got closer, Dudley saw she was limping badly. The rear window shattered as another of the red jets hit it and one of the Death Eaters shouted, "Avada kedavra!" A green light soared by, missing Hestia by a hair's breadth. The woman finally caught up and began shouting curses. Dedalus calmed down over time and now muttered each of his spells without error. Two red jets hit the woman squarely in the chest. She was thrown off of her feet and did not get up again.

There was a roar in the distance and Dudley looked back to see what was happening. From the other direction, a very old school bus, heavily graffiti-ed, was coming down the street. It came to a halt by the car. The Death Eaters looked at it wearily. The doors opened and another woman in a white tee shirt and blue jeans leapt from it firing a volley of curses at the Death Eaters and stumbling out behind her was an older gentlemen. He had white-blond hair that wasn't overlong, but looked as if he were several weeks overdue for a haircut. He had an elegant jaw, narrow and pointed, and a long, but handsome nose, and he appeared to be quite drunk. His purple robes swished as he fired curses at the Death Eaters.

The two standing Death Eaters were forced back and realizing they were outmatched, they grabbed their stunned companion, each under one arm, and disapparated. The two wizards and two witches looked back at the Dursley's car. All that could be seen was the tops of three heads and three pairs of eyes spying from behind their seats.

Dudley finally got a good look at the witch who had joined them. She was young; not much older than Dudley. Her hair was jet black and she had slightly dark skin; Dudley's first thought was that she was Persian. Her face had a gentle curve and was unblemished. Her shirt said, "The Weird Sisters," in multi-colored, multi-font lettering.

The older wizard in the purple robes said, "That car isn't going anywhere on its own. You may as well come out." Dudley was the first to get out of the car, followed reluctantly by his mother and father. "There we are," the wizard said. He smelled strongly of brandy and honey. He had a lopsided way of walking that indicated a large amount of drink. "I am Magellan Haydn. My comrade in arms is Vera Rostum," he indicated the beautiful Persian woman who arrived with him, "and I think it would be prudent to get out of the open. Everyone on the bus, and I will prepare to tow your car behind us."

Dudley thought that the bus these wizards and witches were driving looked ready to fall apart and not up to the challenge of towing anything. Apparently, Vernon thought so too, because he said, "Hopefully that dilapidated jalopy can manage it." Vernon was standing stiff and red faced. It was amazing he was even capable of speech, so palpable was his unrest. Of course, they had all just been attacked by wizards and a witch...on brooms no less.

Magellan smiled. "Oh, she's stronger than she looks." He had a cool confidence that immediately put one at ease.

Everyone climbed onto the bus. Vernon looked as though he was ready to explode. Petunia was pursing her lips tightly, her face as white as chalk. The inside of the bus had all of the seat on one side removed. In their place were various boxes and packages. Magellan climbed into the driver seat-much to Vernon's terror-and backed the bus to the front of the car. Getting back out, he pointed his wand at the car bumper and said, "Necto catena." Heavy chains tied the car to the back of the bus.

As he climbed back aboard, Vera and Hestia finally chose their seats, Hestia next to Petunia, and Vera next to Dudley. Dudley felt as though his stomach had lodged in his throat. Vera turned to him and said in a soft but clear voice, "Hello." She smiled warmly.

Dudley felt his face burning as he said, "Hullo. I'm Dudley."

"Pleased to meet you."

Dudley seemed to lose his voice. Vera looked forward, smiling even more broadly. Dedalus and Vernon each had the last two seats to themselves. Petunia finally seemed to have found her voice. "That...pie-eyed paraffin isn't going to be driving, is he?"

"Does your rudeness know no end?" asked Hestia.

"He's drunk," said Petunia, "and he's driving!"

Hestia's ears went red and she said, abashedly, "He has his faults but he he'll never fail to get you through safely. There's no cause for name calling."

Magellan finally stepped back on and took the driver seat. Looking into the large rear-view mirror, he said, "It's just a bit up the road. We'll be there in a jiff."

"Should you be driving in your state?" said Petunia, with a nasty edge to her voice.

Magellan simply smiled and said, "You needn't worry. This bus has an impervious charm on it. It can't hit anything."

The bus lurched forward, Magellan not waiting for Petunia's continued protest. It turned out, he was quite right. Magellan swerved several times, but things such as lampposts, trash cans, and benches simply jumped out of the way. The bus also squeezed between cars and spaces so tight, Dudley was sure it would have been quite impossible for his father's much smaller company car.

After a mere five minutes or so, the bus pulled up to a rather large three story farm house. It was in desperate need of a paint job and gray distressed wood peeked out from behind fading white paint. The house had unpainted, natural ebony wood shutters on the windows. A closer look revealed shellac that become scaled with age. It had a large wrap-around porch. The house appeared to be the size of a small mansion and every Dursley was certain it would have at least six bedrooms and likely more.

"Welcome to my humble abode," said Magellan.

As the Dursleys stepped out of the house onto the gravel path, they finally took the time to examine their belongings. There were several scorch marks on the suitcases upon the roof of their car where errant spells struck. Vernon shouted, "Now see here! We didn't agree to any of this! We didn't-"

"You're a disagreeable sort," said Magellan.

"Of course, I'm disagreeable! My normal family has been uprooted from its normal life because of your lot and other such abnormal people! Now, I-"

"Mr. Dursley, something needs to be clarified," said Magellan, quite cheerfully. "I don't think any of us agreed to go to war with an evil dark wizard or to be hunted by his followers. Now, your lot is stuck with my lot because of it. I'm not saying it's your fault, but it certainly isn't my fault. I don't have to play host to bellowing walrus and if you don't like it, I'm sure you can lodge a complaint with the Death Eaters who just attacked you. I'm sure they'll be glad to hear it."

This shut Vernon up. The bottom line was, when confronted with the choice of Death Eaters or the Order, Vernon was willing to make concessions.

"There's a good man. Now there has been no damage done to your belongings that I cannot repair." He snapped his fingers. "Raisa!"

Dudley wasn't sure what "Raisa" meant and neither did Vernon, but a soft pop and wisp of smoke followed the statement. Having just appeared was a creature standing two feet tall with earthen colored skin, wearing a pristine white towel with a hole cut in the center for it to put its head through.

Vernon's screams renewed and this time, Petunia screamed also. "What is that? What is that thing?" Petunia looked as if she would very much have liked to clobber it with a rolling pin. Hiding behind her husband, who was sputtering incomprehensibly, she peered around his shoulders at the creature.

"Goodness," said Magellan. "You really need to calm down. She's just a house elf. She doesn't bite."

"Master called?" asked Raisa in a high, squeaky voice.

"Yes, be a good girl and help our guests with their luggage." Raisa rushed to the car, released the binding straps, and displaying a strength quite disproportionate to her size, she lifted two particularly large pieces of luggage off the top and rushed them into the house. Vernon and Petunia watched the creature go by, both wearing expressions that suggested they expected Raisa to attack at any moment.

Dudley, grinned broadly. There was potential here. There were untapped wonders previously unexplored, stifled by a family that lacked imagination or humor. His mother and father may view this experience as quite unacceptable, but Dudley made a very different choice. He thought slowly, he knew. His wits were not as quick as others his age and he could not help but wonder if parents hatred of anything they deemed unnatural had anything to do with it. Dudley wasn't sure how he came to the conclusion but somehow he knew that if he simply took this opportunity to broaden his mind, he would be the better for it. Perhaps this was his cousin's influence over him. If so, he had even more to thank Harry for than he had originally thought. He took two pieces of luggage for himself and followed Raisa to the door.