"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" Vernon squeaks. "You are breaking and entering!"

"Vernon—"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley," says the giant; he reaches over the back of the sofa, jerks the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bends it into a knot as easily as if it's made of rubber, and throws it into a corner of the room. 

He makes a noise like a mouse that's been trodded on.

...well that's frightening in an entirely different way.

But at least the giant is not Uncle Vernon. Not being Uncle Vernon is an important quality to have.

What does he do, what does he say—

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hagrid, but we don't have any tea."

The man throws his head back and starts laughing, and it's the kind of warm, happy laughter that tends to make people laugh along, even when they're not sure what it's about.

...that's probably good?

The laughter eventually dies down, and he looks at Victor with a smile. "Anyway—Victor, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here—I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulls a slightly squashed box.

Victor blinks at the slightly squashed box.

"Go on, take it," he says, offering the box.

...okay.

He accepts the box and tentatively opens it.

It contains an enormous, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Victor written on it in green icing.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Hagrid, this is lovely," he says earnestly.

He beams. "What about that tea then, eh?" he says, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fall on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorts. He gets up from the couch and bends down over the fireplace; they can't see what he's doing but when he draws back a second later, there's a roaring fire there. It fills the whole damp hut with flickering light and Victor can feel the warmth wash over him.

Wow.

But -

Things like this just don't happen to him. What's going on? Maybe this is like the day of the zoo trip, and it's all going to end horribly. He darts a glance at Uncle Vernon. As soon as the giant leaves... he doesn't know what will happen but he's sure it will be bad.

Vernon honestly looks terrified almost out of his trousers. He's decided huddling close to his family in a half-defiant stance is the best he can do.

Petunia is, oddly enough, the least scared of the lot, looking more concerned for her family than afraid of the man.

The giant sits back down on the sofa, which sags under his weight, and begins taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he takes a swig from before starting to make tea.

It's sort of fascinating. Victor wonders if he is allowed to eat his cake.

When the giant finally notices he hasn't actually eaten his cake he says, "I know it's not very pretty ter look at, but it's very tasty. Promise."

And at that Dudley twitches, leaning over to look at the cake and licking his lips.

"Don't touch any of that, Dudley."

The giant snorts.

Well. He wouldn't want to be insulting. He tries the cake.

It is tasty. He looks up at the giant with a tiny, tentative smile.

He's very happy Victor likes it.

Soon the hut is full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. He slides the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, and Dudley fidgets even more.

When they're done, he passes some to Victor.