They make it out of the house in silence, they Apparate in silence, they walk through the halls of Peverell Manor in silence (far from the family wing) until they’re going into the cellar. It’s lit by a single smokeless torch right now, allowing for some measure of darkness. The Dursleys are there, hungry and dirty and silent, the boy and his bruised father sleeping fitfully. The woman wakes up as they come in, inching in front of her precious son, who’s lost a stone in the nearly three weeks they’ve been here.