Harry smiled to show that he appreciated it. "So you're going to keep the house? It's kind of big for just one person, I'd think."
"Oh, Piers is living with me, now. He's got a job as a security guard."
"Oh," said Harry, unsure how to take that. He'd never much liked Piers. To say the least. "He's at work now?"
"Yeah, but he'll be home in a bit. Said he's looking forward to seeing you again, Harry."
Harry almost asked why, but decided he didn't really care. To his recollection, Piers had always seemed to enjoy bullying Harry as much as Dudley had. He found it hard to believe the other boy would be keen to turn over a new leaf just because Dudley had.
Dudley showed them around the house, then, clearly proud of how the reconstruction had turned out. Despite the fact that the new home followed the blueprints of the old--with a couple of notable exceptions--Harry found the tour rather fascinating. In many ways the home was the opposite of what it once was. Where Aunt Petunia had filled the house with porcelain bits and chintz pillows and ruffled drapes, Dudley's dÈcor was very plain indeed.
In fact, Harry had a hard time picturing the old clutter crowding these shiny wood floors and stark white walls. Even the kitchen and loo were sleek with brushed steel and glossy wood. Harry couldn't help but comment aloud on how clean everything was. Based on the state of Dudley's childhood bedroom, he'd expected a grand mess. And it's not as though he's ever had to do a single thing for himself around the house before, Harry thought.
Harry didn't think his thoughts were showing on his face, but they must have been, because Dudley suddenly grinned. "Just in case you were wondering, Aunt Marge pays for the cleaning. She says two young men can't be expected to shift for themselves."
Two young men she liked, Harry took that to mean. Aunt Marge had certainly never had a problem watching Harry wash and clean and scrub!
Dudley didn't seem to notice his thought that time. "Well, any road, I know you've got your own home now, Harry, but I thought you should still have a room here." He looked a bit anxious as he gestured to a door. It led into the room that Harry had always thought of as Dudley's second bedroom.
Harry glanced back to his father and brother. Draco looked bored, which was clearly his polite attempt to refrain from looking disgusted. And while anyone else would have thought him uninterested, to Harry's discerning eye, Snape appeared to be examining his surroundings as if he were expected to report his findings.
When Dudley opened the door, Harry was overcome with a vivid memory of the exact sound of numerous locks tumbling out of place. A prickly sensation ran down his arms for just a moment, but the sensation fled the moment he stepped over the threshold. Not Dudley's second bedroom any longer, he thought, a warm feeling washing through him. The room was the same small size as ever, but that was about the only thing it had in common with its previous existence. Now, the walls were painted a familiar shade of crimson and a fancy new set of matched furniture filled the room... including a bed complete with curtains. The room even had gold-coloured drapes and brass lamps.
Harry couldn't help it; he stood there gaping like a fish.
Draco came to his rescue, his voice as dry as Harry had ever heard it. "Well, well, well. Seems to me that you've got a whole Gryffindor room to yourself here, Harry. So next year, our room at in the dungeons is green on both sides."
As Harry came out of his daze, he noticed that Snape didn't appear amused. But before Harry could really question it, the man abruptly suggested that he could do with a cuppa. Harry thought it a terrible suggestion at first. He had serious doubts that Dudley could boil water, but to his shock, his cousin served a passable blend, complete with lemon slices, in colourful cups so large that Harry suspected they'd been designed for soup.
Harry noticed Draco giving his a long stare before putting it near his mouth, but at least he didn't say anything, this time. After all, when Dudley had first waved them over to a huge black leather couch, Draco had made a complete hash of things. The moment they'd sat down, the cushy furniture had squeaked loudly and seemed designed to swallow people into its puffy depths. Draco had pulled a face and asked, too loudly, "Is it supposed to do that?"
Harry had nearly kicked him.
Now, he made an effort to ignore the way Draco was pretending to drink his tea, and asked, "So, Dudley. You must have some plans by now. What are you thinking of, career-wise?"
"Guess I'd better decide soon." Dudley shrugged. "I've been living on Dad's life insurance, and of course insurance paid for all this." He waved a hand. "But that won't last forever, though I thought sharing expenses with Piers would stretch it."
"Good thinking," said Harry, though he'd much rather Piers was nowhere in the picture. He glanced around the room, which seemed a veritable shrine to an enormous telly and assorted entertainment electronics surrounding it on glass shelves. The house may seem bare, but Harry knew that it hadn't been.
"It seemed only fair," Dudley continued, "as Piers helped me decorate and all. He's got a flair for it."
"Does he?" Harry asked weakly, something suddenly occurring to him. Dudley had never had any girlfriends, really. Harry had assumed that was just because he'd been such a fat and unpleasant person. But maybe there was more to the story than that. "Er... are you and Piers, er?"
"No!" Dudley laughed. "Of course not!"
"Oh, sorry," said Harry. "It's just that you said he was living with you, and..." He shut up before he made an even bigger arse out of himself.
"Rooming, I should have said." Dudley shrugged. "I put him up in mum and dad's room. Couldn't bear to take it for myself." The plump boy sighed. "Though I guess you probably know that Piers does play for his own team. I don't care, as long as he doesn't bring his boyfriends around here. He's not allowed overnight guests, see. Terms of his lease. His parents threw him out for having too many wild parties. When I decided to let him live here, I decided he wasn't going to be wrecking the brand-new furniture and such."
Too much information, Harry thought, frowning.
Dudley suddenly frowned as well. "Oh. Is that a problem for you, Piers being gay? I can tell him to make himself scarce until--" He cleared his throat. "Sorry, Harry. Dad would have had a problem with it, I know, but I got the idea from Marsha that wizards didn't care about things like that."
Oh, great. Now Harry couldn't say that he'd rather not see Piers! "Wizard prejudices tend to centre on other things," Harry said, with a sidelong glance at Draco, who gave Harry a superior look in reply.
"Good, because Piers made the dessert, so I'd really hate to tell him he can't have dinner with us."
Harry started. This was just getting worse and worse! He looked toward his father in desperation, for once wishing that the man would use a touch of Legilimency on him. But Snape still seemed intent on studying the house. Harry had the feeling that the man was reaching out with some sort of magic, trying to test if any trace remained of the wards and spells that had once been attached to Number Four Privet Drive.
So when it came to avoiding Piers, Harry was on his own. "Oh. Um, I sort of thought we'd all go out for dinner, Dudley. You know, you, me, Draco, Severus." What he meant to say was, everyone but Piers. He wasn't sure quite how to say it without giving the wrong impression, though.
"Oh, no. No, I can't." Dudley was shaking his head.
"My treat--" Harry didn't have much Muggle money with him but he figured he could borrow some from Draco, who had taken to carrying outrageous sums around. No wonder, if he was going to splurge on diamond pendants and the like. Harry still couldn't believe that their father hadn't put a stop to it.
"I'd really better not, Harry," said Dudley, his voice almost pleading now. "You can't trust restaurants not to sneak a little cornstarch or flour into what they serve you. And they never admit the truth. No, I planned a healthy low-carb dinner. And Piers loves to cook, so he made this custard thing from my diet cookbook."