For the first time, the Dursleys had a proper look around the witch's house. It was nothing like Dudley would have imagined a witch's house to look like, he thought. It was painted in very light pastel colors, and the ample amount of windows combined with the sparse yet comfortable-looking furniture produced what would surely be a light, airy effect during the day. For now it was dark except for a few gas-burning lamps glowing in the hall and drawing room. Dudley noticed a light-finished wooden spiral staircase nearby. He wandered over to it and looked straight up the middle of it. It seemed to go on forever; it dizzied him to try to trace it all the way up.

A face appeared far above him, peering down with vibrant blue eyes. Dark curls cascaded around the curious face, contrasting with all the light colors of the house. Then the face disappeared and Dudley heard the rumbling of footsteps as the person descended the steps.

Finally, a very pretty girl came into sight, rushing down the stairs to meet the strangers in her house. She must have been Dudley's age, maybe a year or two younger. He noticed her strange clothes – they were strange sweeping robes of the type magical people seemed to wear, a deeper navy than her eyes.

She only glanced at Dudley before striding past him and up to Hestia Jones.

"My parents are coming in a moment, Auntie. My dad's got to finish a letter."

"Say hello to the Dursleys, Astrid," Hestia said.

The girl called Astrid put on a polite smile and turned to Dudley's parents.

"I'm Astrid, Hestia's niece. Pleased to meet you." She held out her hand to Mr. Dursley, who looked at it contemptuously. Petunia half-hid behind her husband and inspected the young witch with beady, suspicious eyes. Slowly and awkwardly, Astrid lowered her hand and took a step backward. She caught Dudley's eye then, smiling hesitantly.

Dudley couldn't help but smile back nervously and wish his parents had been warmer to her. The girl seemed nice enough, even if she wasn't dressed normally. He thought the robes looked nice on her, actually. She looked away as her parents appeared in the hall.

Mrs. Lemming was Hestia's sister, though the resemblance was slight. While they were both tall women, Hestia had dark hair and Mrs. Lemming had strawberry blonde waves. Mr. Lemming was slightly shorter than his wife, though that could have been due to his hunched posture and thinning hair. He had the look of a man who had seen too much grief in his years, though the lines on his face were deeper at the corners of his eyes, suggesting he had spent much of his life laughing. He smiled at the Dursleys and offered a hand to welcome them like his daughter. His smile faded when they reacted the same way.

"Well, Dursleys, why don't I show you to your rooms, then?" Hestia piped up to cover the awkward moment. "I'll just lighten these a little…" She drew out her wand and Mr. Dursley barked, "Don't you magic our luggage! We don't want anything unnatural possessing our things!"

Hestia pursed her lips and blinked a few times, looking at the bags as though they were much too hopelessly large to carry up the stairs without use of a wand.

Dudley shouldered past his parents and hefted two bags in each hand. He easily followed the bemused hostess up the stairs. His parents came after him, his mother chirping about how polite he was carrying all the bags and his father muttering about, "none of this magic nonsense. Just good old fashioned muscle. That's my boy."

Dudley couldn't count all the stairs they climbed to get to their rooms. It must have been a hundred steps, he thought, because when he looked down the middle of the spiral it made him dizzy. Panting and nearly crawling, he and his family finally made it to their rooms.

"Why…the…ruddy…**** do we have to be so far up?" Mr. Dursley wheezed. "It's inhospitable to make guests climb seventeen floors just to get to their rooms!"

Hestia ignored him and dropped the bags in the middle of the room. There was only one large bed in here. She looked at Dudley.

"Your room is next door, boy. Didn't think you wanted to share with your parents."

Grateful for this information, he picked up his bag and went to the next room. It was smaller than his parents', with only a single bed, a small bedside table, and a compact armoire. A few knickknacks around the room gave it a magical feel, like a cuckoo clock chiming the hour with a bird that really flew and clucked. A throw rug that almost made him scream when it levitated under his feet to help him climb onto the bed.

Deciding that this was a bit too exciting for this time of night, he went downstairs to say goodnight to Dedalus and the Lemmings. He got as far as one floor away when he heard voices talking and a mention of his parents. He stopped to listen.

"…when we were leaving, they didn't even tell Harry they loved him. Couldn't even shake his hand! I shudder to think what kind of treatment he received living there."

"But that could mean anything," said a voice Dudley thought was Mrs. Lemming's. Dedalus didn't let her finish.

"They didn't even know where he was going! They said, off with some of 'our lot', whatever that means. I get the feeling they don't feel warmly about magic. Just look at the way they've been treating you!" he squeaked despairingly.

"The son seemed alright," said a warm, quiet voice Dudley recognized as the girl's, Astrid's. His stomach gave a funny lurch at the words. The others ignored her.

"Well, they'll just have to get used to magic, because we have a lot of things to do around here," said Mr. Lemming. "How long will they be staying? Only Lee's going to be getting here in a month."

"There will be plenty of room, Carlisle," said Mrs. Lemming. "You've seen this place."

"It's not the room. They're muggles. I don't want to shock them too much. It feels uncomfortable enough having them in my home, but around so much magic? You're sure this is alright?"

Dudley had heard enough. He purposely made a racket coming down the last few steps and following the voices through the hall and into the kitchen. Everyone stared as he entered.

A kettle of tea was steeping on the stove. Hestia, Dedalus, and the Lemmings were all huddled around clutching mugs.

"Alright, Dudley? We were just about to bring a tray of tea up to you and your parents. Want some?" Mrs. Lemming held out a cup to him.

Dudley took it with quiet thanks. It was silent for a moment as everyone sipped at their drinks and tried to think of something to say. Dudley shuffled his feet.

"So…" said Mr. Lemming after a moment. "Dudley, you're Harry Potter's cousin? I bet you're really good friends. Like brothers, maybe?"

Dudley shrugged and sipped his tea. He didn't know what to say. All these people seemed to like Harry so much. What was he supposed to say? "Harry was my favorite punching bag in grade school" seemed a trifle inappropriate.

"Harry and I get on okay," was all he could come up with. The room sipped collectively.

"I heard you once met the Weasleys, well, Fred and George and Ron. I heard their sister, Ginny, say something about that once. Do you know them?"

Dudley wracked his brain, trying to think of these people she talked of. Then it came to him.

"Red hair?" he blurted. Astrid beamed.

"Yes, you remember! Fred and George are so funny, aren't they? I only know them distantly, because they're a few years older than me, but everyone knows they're always good for a laugh."

Dudley grimaced at the memory of meeting the red-haired twins and tried to make it an innocent smile. Did Astrid know the whole story? He truly hoped she didn't. It would be much too embarrassing.

Everyone in the kitchen latched onto the topic as if it would save their lives. Words of how lovely the Weasley family was spouted out of every mouth. Mrs. Lemming piped up that she would bring the tea up to the Dursleys and left amid talk of the red haired family everyone seemed to love. Astrid focused on talking to Dudley.

"Ginny, the girl, she's in my year but in Gryffindor, so I don't know her as well as I'd like, but she's always really nice. She was dating your cousin last year, so he might have mentioned her? Or her brother, Ron, cause he's Harry's best friend."

Dudley didn't really know how to respond, so he just let her talk. Apparently Harry had a girlfriend. News to him. Oh, she was talking again.

"…and then, Fred or George or whoever it was, said, 'see you' and they hopped on their brooms and flew away out the window! The look on Umbridge's face was so brilliant, and the fireworks were going off for weeks! I was only a fourth year but it was so incredible…"

Dudley didn't quite know how to follow, though he could tell it was a really good story. He nodded and listened and wondered how his scruffy cousin could have a girlfriend when everyone was after him, and he himself couldn't even get up the courage to ask a girl out. What was it everyone liked so much about Harry?

When the tea was all gone the room exchanged yawning good nights and shuffled off. Dudley walked a two flights of stairs with Astrid before she announced her stop and left him to walk the rest alone.

As he got into a magically warm and comfortable bed, he thought not of sweets that made your tongue a slimy monster or of how a brick wall had fallen out of the sky that day. He thought of the girl a few floors down, who had smiled and wished him a good night, and wondered if his cousin wasn't the only one who could get a girl.