Recap:

Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle, order members, have arrived at the Dursley house to take the Dursleys somewhere safe where Voldemort and the Death Eaters cannot find him when Harry's trace and mother's protection breaks. After much reluctance, they agree, because Harry explains about inferi (dead bodies, and how they can come in, and how the Death eaters or Voldemort would torture and the other things the Death Eaters could do to them. They ask if Vernon can drive and he says yes, really angrily. The plan is for him to drive then they will dissaparate.

Dudley nervously went into the back of the car, in the middle, taking up most of the space.

"Ah, how does this close?" Hestia Jones murmured, touching all over the door.

"I think it goes like this…" Dedalus Diggle said, pulling the handle.

"No, I think that's to open it." she said.

Dudley's parents remained silent in the front, his dad's beard twitching silently.

"Dudley, would you please…" his mum started, and he quickly closed both doors, put on his seatbelt and the wizard and the witch followed suit.

"Well, if that's all, let's go!" Dedalus smiled.

After an hour, they arrived in what looked like the countryside.

"Well, here we are." Hestia said. "Now, what's your name again?"

"Dudley." He said nervously.

"Ah, yes. Dudley. Hold my arm. Dedalus, you take Mrs and Mr Dursley."

"On three…. Two…. One."

Dudley suddenly felt like he was being squeezed through a tube. His airways contricted. He opened his eyes and vomited.

"Ah, yes, can be sickening the first time." Hestia said. "Not to worry, not to worry." She said. "Evinco." She said, pointing her wand at the puke on the floor. Nothing happened, but red sparks came from her wand.

"Oh, drat, that's not the spell. "Evanico! Eva— Evanesco!" she said, and it disappeared, leaving the pavement perfectly clean.

"Now, this is it. Rosehill avenue. It is a muggle area, so people won't really expect an Order Of The Pheonix safehouse to be around here. Up the hill." She said, gesturing towards the hill. "Is a small little village. Very nice place, I can assure you, however, you can only go there, or anywhere out of the house, accompanied by an auror."

Dudley didn't catch a word of it. He was petrified of these people, but gulped and decided to speak.

"What's an Orry?"

"Oh." Dedalus said, looking rather embarrassed. "Sorry, I forgot you wouldn't know. Aurors are dark wizard catchers. Most Order Of The Pheonix members are aurors. You know, we could accompany you there, doesn't have to be an auror. But anyway, just a safety precaution. Now, the house is number 57.5."

"Fifty seven point five?" Dad said. Dudley could sense the ferocious anger bubbling inside him.

"Yes. Just inbetween— here." He said. He walked inbetween fifty seven and fifty eight, and pressed it with his wand, and mumbled something. Suddenly, house number fifty seven and fifty eight both burst apart, gliding further and further away. Inbetween them was another house.

"Right, just walk up these steps." Dedalus said, ushering them. The house was built higher than ground level. There was a fluffy doormat before the door, red with a smiley face.

Dedalus opened the door, and as Dudley stepped on the doormat, he could have sworn that the doormat had winked at him.

They entered a fancy sort of porch. The walls were white, yet peeled in some places. They opened the next door.

There were two livings rooms, a TV in each, a kitchen and dining room which were both interconnected and a utility room. Upstairs was three bedrooms and another room, which was rather spacious and had a table in the middle, and chairs all around it. A whole wall of that room was glass, so the view could be seen. It was night time, and the moon was winking at them just above the hill with the village at the top, the stars twinkling kindly.

"Nuh uh, the conference room is out of bounds." Hestia shook her head.

"I was under the impression that this would be our own house—" Vernon started, but Dedalus said:

"Yes, it's yours to stay in, but it's the Order Of The Pheonix property, so don't, like, go breaking walls or anything. You can choose your bedrooms. Good night to you all." He said with a smile, and rushed down the stairs.

Dudley threw many tantrums to have the biggest room, and his parents yielded.

"It's getting late, Dudders. Why don't you go to bed?"

"Aren't you?" he said.

"Yes, but, well, a new episode of that cooking show is streaming now, and we… er…" Petunia started, but Vernon nudged her abruptly. "What your mother means is that we are going to bed too."

"No." he said, narrowing his eyes. "You're gonna get to watch TV all night. It's unfair! Sleeping is dumb."

"Diddykins—"

"No!" he said angrily, and stormed to his room, and dived into his bed, not even bothering to pull the bedcovers up.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

"SHUT UP, CLOCK!" he yelled, throwing a pillow at the clock, but missing it, and hitting a vase instead, which hit the ground and shattered.

"Sorry. But you could have asked in a nicer way." A voice said.

Dudley jumped. "Who's there?"

"Me." the voice said.

Dudley looked around, although he knew already where it came from.

"You can t-t-talk?" he whimpered, crawling to the edge of his bed.

The clock rolled its hands. "Well, night night. I'm tired you know. You may want to note that I snore in my sleep." It said, and sure enough, after a few minutes, the clock resumed its loud ticktock sounds.

The next day, Dudley woke up first, having disturbing nightmares. He ran downstairs, where Hestia and two unfamiliar wizards were talking.

"Oh, hello… Dudley." She said hurriedly. "Breakfast." She said, and waved her wand. A feast appeared on the dining table, and resumed her whispered conversations.

Dudley nervously took some toast, and then realised that it didn't have anything on it.

"H— Hestia?" he said.

"Yes?" she said, rather agitatedly.

"I'd like some butter and jam on this."

On the words "butter" and "jam", said things appeared on the bread. On his side was a magazine, which he decided to read.

Two days ago, Annie Vikander, 28, was murdered by a group of Death Eaters, including Amycus Carrow, Bellatrix Lestrange and Fenrir Greyback.

Dudley looked up. Murder. So this was what the world was coming to.

"What are Death Eaters?" he asked Hestia.

"and he might be under the imperius curse, yet we have many leads into— Oh, yes Dudley, what is it?" Hestia said hurriedly.

"What are Death Eaters?"

"Dark wizards, working for Voldemort." She said. "So anyway, we can only hope the ministry will not be infiltrated for the time being—"

Dudley looked back at the magazine, and read from the middle of the article.

Ethel Cole, a close friend of Vikander, has written an obituary about her.

I first met Annie at Hogwarts. The moment the Sorting hat touched her head, she was in Ravenclaw, the house of the wise. Me? I had a rather lengthy natural knowledge, coming from a family of magical theoriticians, yet never had the brains of Annie Vikander. I had many learning difficulties, and struggled with concentrating in class and remembering things. I met Annie in the Hogwarts train. She was a very kind and selfless person, always putting herself before others. I was a pureblood, she she a muggle born. I always thought that I would die before going into Slytherin, and Annie thought the same. I wasn't brave, or very clever either. I figured I'd be a Hufflepuff, even though after meeting Annie I would do anything to be in Ravenclaw. It was her wise words that inspired me to persevere through my Hogwarts years and not doubt the sorting hat's choice of my house, Ravenclaw.

Annie was top in her class in every lesson. Every student envied her knowledge, and she very soon, became a favourite of all teachers.

She left Hogwarts with many outstanding OWLs and NEWTs. I kept in contact with her over the years. At 27, she married Eric Zimmerman, a muggle. She had three children, and a busy life with a very complicated job, but still kept in contact with me.

Later in her life, Annie made many contributions to the magical world, and many of her ideas were published in publications, including The Practical Potioneer and Transfiguration Today. She theorised many groundbreaking discoveries about Felix Felicis, the potion of Luck. In her words:

"One day, I had the honour of drinking a spoon of Felix. I felt empowered, and decided to investigate about how it worked. After many tests, and separating ingredients, I could conclude that luck, a subject which I was always puzzled by, is a mere pschycological effect. In other words, if you start a day with a positive mindset, you will have a positive day. It is a muggle quote that I always grew up hearing, but never really understood the truth of it, until now. Felix Felicis has no effects. It is just an ordinary drink. If you are slipped Felix Felicis into your drink and don't realise, it won't have the same effects as knowing you've drunk it."

Annie greatly defied the stereotype that terribly defines muggle-borns—

"Hestia, what's stereotype?"

"It's like a way of thinking of a type of people without— Dudley, just, just look in the dictionary." She sighed.

Dudley turned towards the bookshelf, and took out a rusty book. When he opened it, the two pages were blank, but the word "stereotype" appeared with it's definition. It must have been magic.

Dudley read through the rest of the article. The magical dictionary which made the word he was seeking appear also translated magic terms, such as "Azkaban" and "muggle". The Prophet was quite interesting.

Soon, his parents awoke and came down for breakfast. Their plates kept on refilling when they finished.

"Hestia, can I please go to the village at the top of the hill?"

"Blackridge's end? Sure. I'll take you there. Sorry, excuse me, Derwin. I'll talk to you about it later. Please do send the message to Remus. Goodbye." She said, and opened the door, gesturing for Dudley to come out.

"Where are you going, Dudley?" his dad said.

"The village. Blackridge's End. Please, dad?" he said.

His son's use of the word "please" acted like an electric shock. "I— alright." He said. "But come back by lunch time."

"Yes, I will see to it that he comes back in time." Hestia smiled, and closed the door behind them.

They both climbed up the hill. It was a long and arduous walk, and Dudley collapsed onto the ground after a minute. "How long left?" he said weakly.

Hestia looked very bewildered. "We've only just started climbing, Dudley. Come on, it's good for you. Get some exercise, you know?" she said encouragingly, pulling Dudley up, who nodded grudgingly, and mustered all the strength he could to keep climbing.

"But mother, I need new Hogwarts robes, we only have a few days left!" a girl said behind them. Dudley turned, to see a tall girl with waist-length, long black hair and bright blue eyes pestering her mother.

"Yes, yes, yes, darling, you'll have time for that, but we promised your aunt and uncle that we'd go and visit them." She sighed. "We can go to Diagon Alley on Thursday."

The girl huffed. She looked a year older than Dudley.

Dudley stared, transfixed. This must be a witch. Maybe she even knew Harry. Maybe she was in the same class as him. Dudley trotted on, trying to avoid her eyes.

"Well, here we are." Hestia said.

"Wha— oh!" he said. He had momentarily forgotten why they were there.

"Well, where do you want to go? The sweet shop?"

"Alright." He said. "Please." He added hastily.

"OK. It's just over there. I'll wait here, and you can go get some stuff from there. " she said.

They spent a few hours going round the village and seeing everything. Dudley had everything in this new place. Everything except a friend.