She ushered the boys over the threshold and into her home. There was no hallway, they just entered into the living room, but Harry had to say it was very pleasant, and reminded him of his own grandparents' homes. Everything was very clean, even though the furniture didn't match, and he thought there was perhaps a lace, white doily underneath every possible ornament.

As soon as they were inside, several different cats awoke from all manner of corners, and meowed loudly as they bounded over to greet Mrs Figgs eagerly. "Alright, alright," she bemoaned, shooing them away. "I'll feed you later, we have guests to entertain first."

Harry and Draco had both jumped back at the sight of the creatures, and now they were eyeing up the boys warily. Harry couldn't speak for Draco, but he had never had a pet, and he was quite put out at being faced with so many of them. His godfather had a big black dog, but dogs were always happy to see you. Cats, in his experience, only ever seemed to want to scratch you.

"Do they bite?" he yelped, hoping Draco wouldn't laugh at him, but if anything he seemed to be hiding behind Harry's back in as just as much fear, if not more.

"Oh heavens no!" Mrs Figg said, toeing off her shoes and unbuttoning her coat. "Though watch out for Tufty, he's a bit jealous that one."

A large, fluffy cat with narrow eyes hissed at them, and Harry decided to keep as far away from him as possible.

"Come on now, make yourselves comfy. Shoes live by the door, coats on the rack – oh, let me," she said as Draco struggled a bit to hang his jacket up, even on tip toes, so Harry had no chance. "There we go, alright, let's have a spot of supper, shall we?"

Harry and Draco obediently left their cases and gas mask boxes near the front door, next to a set of tight stairs that lead upstairs, presumably to their attic room. Harry eyed up where the steps curved around and out of sight, but they were obviously going to see that later as Mrs Figg cajoled them into the kitchen. There were two more doors off of the living room that looked to lead to Mrs Figg's bedroom, and a bathroom. It may have been small and a little lopsided, but Harry had to admit the place had a nice charm about it. He took a long breath as he sat down to the table; so, this was to be his home for however long he was here. All things considered, it wasn't that bad.

Mrs Figg did a lot of the talking during dinner, but Harry was quite good at answering questions, for both him and Draco. He was able to tell her all about their school and the area they grew up in, about their teachers and the football team he played for. Draco wasn't on the team, but Harry didn't miss the way he sat up with interest as soon as Harry started talking about the games they played against other schools. He talked about his mother, how she worked in the factory, and his father and his planes, and how one day he wanted to be a pilot too.

Mrs Figg asked a funny question at that though. "Does your father also wear glasses?" she asked, as she warmed them some bread pudding. Harry and his mother had been rationing sensibly for months, so it had been a long time since he had had anything other than condensed milk for afters, and he was extremely excited by the prospect of proper pudding.

"Um, no," he said distractedly. "He doesn't." His glasses were his most important possession. They had cost a lot of money and he had to be extremely careful with them, otherwise he couldn't really see. Mother had warned him several times not to break them when he was away, as there might not be anyone in the town to fix them. "Mine are great, I can see everything with them!" he prattled on, his stomach, although already full from the stew, rumbled as Mrs Figg poured them custard too. "Do you always have pudding like this?" he asked excitably.

Mrs Figg laughed and shook her head. She liked laughing Harry had noticed, and that made him happy. He didn't like people who were too serious and mean. "This is a special Welcome Home dinner," she said, giving the boys generous helpings. "I'm afraid we'll have to be a bit more sensible on normal days."

"That's okay," Harry said with a shrug, delving into his pudding. "Mmmm!" he moaned with his mouth full, the warm fruit bursting in his mouth in tangy, delightful spurts. Even Draco sighed happily at the hot pudding, and they both finished every last lick of it.