After one week at the Keep, he felt like he had a pretty good hang on what was going on. That morning, when he he was cleaning in Manannan's bedroom and had ran a hand along the top of the closet. There he had touched something metallic. Grabbing it, Gwydion had discovered a small brass key but he had no idea what it unlocked, but was dusty enough that he had felt safe taking it. It had been hidden with the journal in the box under his bed.
The other surprise of the first week in the Keep was the cat. Gwydion had never had a pet before. Now he had a cat. A few bits of cooked mutton and a gentle combing had seemed to make the cat from to a distant disdain instead of outright hostilities. Gwydion had thought that might be as close a cat ever was to anyone, so he started (if only in his head) to call the cat his pet. The simple fact was Gwydion has never been happier.
He got to eat wherever and whatever he wanted. His chores were easily done. There was no Dudley to beat him, no Vernon to threaten him, and no Petunia to boss him around. Sure Manannan was demanding, but no worse then Petunia, and and he didn't 'supervise' and sneer and snark at Gwydion while he was doing his chores. In fact, the wizard pretty much left Gwydion alone. Here he had a room. And a bed. And cloths that fit.
And the Keep itself! The magic! It was an awesome new world.
It was on the 7th day that a somewhat shriveled old women, who refused to speak to him (which if Rowans story about Francis was true, Gwydion didn't blame her at all), had delivered a cartload of goods before departing quickly. It was nothing like what he remember from Before, when Petunia had made him carry all the shopping from the big supermarket in town. On that day Gwydion had quickly learnt all sorts of things he had never known before about how to prepare and store food, because the animals had been still a whole carcass and the greens straight from the ground, dirt and all.
It made him very thankful for the 'The good wife'. It had how to butcher an animal, and how to store the meat (there were no freezers here). It was hard work, but at the same time, it was also much more satisfying. Anything that made it to the table, he would done almost from complete beginning. Thankfully, Manannan was in no way a fussy eater, because Gwydion's first attempts at meals he prepared were not good at all. Even now, when he had started to get the hang of things like plucking chickens and removing entrails, how to keep the meat turning in the fire so it didn't burn, how to use the dried spices and herbs to make the meat taste less of salt or sour pickle and more edible, the meals he gave to Manannan were still pretty horrible. Manannan got bland and tasteless, the worst cuts of meat he could hide, the burnt bits from the real meal he cooked for himself. Manannan never voiced a single complaint, and Gwydion knew that if he had ever detected or even suspected that Gwydion was serving sub-standard food Gwydion would be punished severely. But the wizard clearly had no taste at all (and his decoration of his bedroom attested to that too).
Gwydion had arrived at the Keep just after his seventh birthday. Even though delayed by almost 3 weeks he cooked himself a tray of biscuits to celebrate, half of which burnt in the fire, but were still sweet as they were all his. He gave none to Manannan (but did gave a tiny bit to the cat when it begged).