Blaine put down his copy of Charlotte's Web on his bedspread and raced into the kitchen to help his mother. It was a special day for him today; he had just turned eight years old and while it was going to be a quiet celebration, he was just glad to have a birthday cake and candles to blow out.

His mother had her back turned to him as she worked over the kitchen counter. She was a petite woman with long, honey-brown hair and amber eyes, which was a shade lighter than her son's. What people didn't know, apart from her husband and son, was that she was a fairy. Her tiny wings were always well-concealed under clothing and she remained tight-lipped about her long-deceased parents, but she always told Blaine stories she learned about as a child. Blaine enjoyed listening to tales about her ancestors, who were much smaller and could actually fly.

'Can I put them around the edges, Mom?' Blaine asked as he came to stand next to her. He barely reached his mother's chest but he could still see over the top of the cake that she had just finished piping. His round vanilla cake looked delicious and he grinned at the Happy 8th Birthday Blaine written neatly in chocolate icing.

'Of course,' she replied, gathering some sprinkles in the palm of her hand. They flew from her fingers gracefully as they molded themselves around the vanilla frosting; no two sprinkles of the same color touched. 'Are you sure you didn't want to invite your friends over from school?'

'Yeah,' Blaine said. He had very few friends, and he really didn't like school very much. He was the smallest student in his class and most of the other boys and girls made fun of his size. He put his hand in the bag of sprinkles and let them fall through the cracks of his fingers. 'Is Dad going to be home before bedtime tonight?'

'I don't know, sweetheart,' his mother replied. 'I really don't know.' She gave him a tight smile that looked apologetic. 'But we can still celebrate between the two of us, okay?'

Blaine nodded. He understood his father was very busy and had a very important job that kept him away for most of the week as he often traveled to the West Coast to attend conferences that went on for days. Blaine was used to not having his father around that much and when Blaine did see him, his father would always ask him firmly if he was behaving at school.

They waited until nine o'clock. By then, Blaine was having trouble keeping his eyes open, but he accepted his mother's request to go through with blowing out the candles anyway. Blaine ate a big piece of cake (which tasted just as delicious as what it had looked like) with a glass of warm chocolate milk and by nine thirty, he was drifting off to sleep.

He felt like he hadn't been asleep for very long when he was awoken by two voices shouting in the kitchen. He opened his eyes groggily and saw his bear-shaped clock flip over to 11.54pm. Rubbing his eyes, he stood up and began walking over to his bedroom door. The voices in the kitchen became clearer with each step.

'…don't think I know how to look after this family? I work long, strict hours, so what choice do I have?'

'But it was his birthday! Don't you think you could have been home on time at least this once?'

Blaine padded silently into the hallway to find his mother and father fighting in the kitchen. He had seen them fight before but they had never been this loud. He could see his father's briefcase on the kitchen table with his jacket and tie thrown hastily over it. His father's dark hair was disheveled, like a hand had been pushed through it many times.

'Dammit! What do you take me for? I can't get here on your time but that's how it is!' His father let out an irate sigh. 'I am sick and tired of this discussion. I'm going to bed.'

'You always say that! Can't we talk about this as two responsible parents?'

'I said I don't want to talk any more about it.'

'But your son-'

'He's not my only son!'

A deafening silence filled the kitchen. Blaine quietly slipped into the room and caught the look of horror on his mother's face as she stared at his father.

'What?' she whispered. So far both of his parents had not taken any notice of Blaine, but Blaine was silently trying to digest his father's words. What did he mean?

'Linda,' his father said, his voice betraying no emotion. 'I had an affair with Linda…'

'How long ago was this?' his mother whispered again. Blaine knew that Linda was a long-time friend of his mother's and newly-widowed. She used to bring her son Cooper over to play at their house but Blaine didn't get along with him very much. He was too controlling and had a habit of always telling Blaine what to do. They had moved to Los Angeles last year and Blaine hadn't seen either of them since.

'I…it started a while ago and…things weren't working out with her and Paul, so we…'

'You didn't tell me? After all these years, you didn't tell your son that he had a stepbrother?'

'I…'

'And all those conferences you've been to, you…you were flying over to spend time with her and…' Blaine had never heard his mother speak so quietly, and he was getting a little worried. His father was angry and his mother was on the verge of tears and he didn't understand what was going on.

'Yes,' his father said, and Blaine was taken aback by the fury in his eyes. 'Yes, I have gone to see her. We are in love with each other and we would be together, but the only reason why I'm staying here is for him!' He pointed over to Blaine, and Blaine felt like shaking. He felt his mother's teary eyes on him and a surge of emotion ran through him; all he wanted to do was to protect her.

'Honey, why don't you go back to bed? I'll be there later, okay?'

Comforted only slightly by his mother's words, Blaine nodded obediently and wandered back into the hallway. He didn't return to his bedroom but peeked around the doorway where he could see his parents but neither of his parents could see him. After a long pause, his mother's soft voice filled the kitchen, but it sounded furious.

'How dare you,' she hissed, stepping closer to her husband. 'When have you ever been there for Blaine? I was there to see his first step, his first day of school and every single one of his birthdays, and if I knew you were such a lying, pathetic excuse for a man, I never would have married you. I would have raised Blaine on my own and let you live with that bitch and your bastard child for all I care!'

A resounding slap echoed through the kitchen and rang loud in Blaine's ears. Blaine's protective instinct towards his mother vanished along with his courage; he didn't want his father to hit him, too.

'You think you're a good mother?' his father responded, venom in his voice. 'I don't think you're fit enough to be. I'm taking custody and I'm bringing him with me to California. You just wait and see.' His eyes turned around and found Blaine, and he stepped towards him. Blaine trembled for real this time. He couldn't think of what to do but it was his mother's firm reply that stopped his father.

'That won't happen.'

Blaine peeked up at the sound of his mother's voice. Her finger was pointed directly at his father and from it, a swirling, purple dust began to take form.

'Wh-what are you doing?' his father stammered, taking a step back. 'You told me you couldn't use force yourself to use magic.'

His mother's eyes were glowing fiercely but her voice was calm as she spoke.

'This isn't magic,' his mother replied, her eyes narrowing. 'This is a curse. You are a cold, heartless little man and you deserve to be punished for what you have done to our family.'

'No…'

The clock in the kitchen chimed once to announce the midnight hour. Frightened more for his mother, Blaine felt a small burst of adrenaline course through him and he used that to run into the kitchen.

'Blaine will never be yours!' his mother said, her voice now shaking, the dust cloud swirling faster and faster. 'No-one will ever be yours! You will live the rest of your life knowing this in your tiny, miserable heart!'

'Mom?' Blaine said, placing himself between his parents. Then it happened all at once. He heard his mother shout Blaine, no! and he felt a rush of something towards him that almost knocked him off his feet. Looking around wildly, whatever had hit him was now surrounding him in a haze of purple and he felt the strangest sensation of everything around him becoming bigger. Or was he getting smaller? He heard his mother's anguished cry and then somehow he knew that he was shrinking. After a while the sensation passed and the kitchen became eerily silent. There was a light sprinkling of dust on the floor and he didn't know what had happened, but he had a heavy feeling that his mother was gone.

Blaine looked up to see his father leaning over him with a fearful look in his eyes. From his position on the kitchen floor, his father looked like a giant. He could hear his father's heavy breathing above him and it sounded as loud as a gale. The kitchen table, the stovetop and the sink all looked miles away from where he was standing. He tried to process what had happened, but he couldn't, instead looking back up at his father with the same fearful expression in his eyes.

'Dad?'

His father didn't answer him; nor did he answer him when he scooped Blaine up in the palm of his hand and set him down on the desk in his study. He moved away again and returned with his wife's beret that was sitting on an armchair in the room. Blaine had laid himself down on the desk and curled up into a ball, shivering. Every object on the desk looked enormous and while he didn't feel any different, he knew there was something not quite right about him. His father placed the beret over Blaine to cover him up to his chin and then set about opening some drawers, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper.

'Dad-' Blaine tried again, hoping to get some explanation. His mind was all muddled up.

'Go to sleep, son,' his father replied, not looking at Blaine. He was staring blankly at the paper and squeezing his fist around the pen in his hand. Watching his father quietly and still confused, Blaine closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.