Without a second of hesitation Blaine spurted back to the door and pressed his ear against the lock. He could hear muffled voices but the door was too thick to hear properly.

All he could make out when he peeked through the lock, was his uncle pacing the room while his aunt seemed to sit at the table, reading the letter.

Segments of the conversation reached his ear.

"Knew he was like them." – "Should let him go. Nothing we can do." – "Never. Disgrace." – "Come for him?" – "Not think so." – "Await owl." – " 't answer." – "But Vernon." – "No, I won't…" – "The letter?" – "Never read… Destroy…"

Blaine tried hard to listen closer, to hear more but that was all that he could make out. He had no idea what they might be talking about except that it was about him and that they were anxious for some reason. Someone had written him. Someone cared for him. Someone he didn't know.

His aunt and uncle seemed to know something or they wouldn't be that anxious. It was also obvious that they didn't want him to know… and what had that all to do with an owl?

Blaine was determined to find out what was going on and as he went up to his room, a plan was already forming in his head.

He spent the morning in his room, anticipating the right time to put his plan into action.

His uncle had left for work around ten. Aunt Petunia had plans to meet a friend for an early lunch and so she was gone before noon. Cooper left with her to meet with friends and Miss Figg had left the house to go shopping shortly before one am.

Blaine waited for another 30 minutes, listening intently for any sounds in the quiet house before he left his room and headed for Uncle Vernon's study.

He had no idea what to look for but if Uncle Vernon was hiding things from him, his study was the best place to start searching.

Before opening the door, Blaine stopped a moment to take in a deep breath. He knew it was risky. Anyone of the household could come home before time and catch him and then he'd be screwed.

He pushed the door handle down and nothing happened except for a rattling noise. The door was locked. Blaine face-palmed. Why hadn't he even thought of that possibility?

He made some more fruitless attempts of opening the door, getting angrier and angrier with himself and the stupid door with every try. Searching the whole corridor for a spar key was equally unrewarding. In the end, he even threw himself against the door, which was pretty silly, concerning his, even for a ten year old, small frame. It also hurt him more than the door and as he gave up, he slumped down against the door, nursing his aching shoulder.

There was no use. He knew he should leave and get as far away as possible from his uncle's study- If someone found him, they wouldn't care that he didn't succeed. The mere intent would be enough for a severe punishment.

The boy got up, his shoulders hanging and made one last desperate attempt of opening the door. He pressed down the door handle, the wish of finding out what secrets were behind this door filling him up and suddenly it clicked. Blaine's eyes widened. A jolt of electricity was shooting through him and he flinched back, just as the door jumped open.

Blaine stared, and a little part of him, the part that had just come to accept weird stuff happening all around him, urged him into the office and a moment later he was inside, looking around.

The study was big, tidy and the interior very classic but convenient. Blaine had been in here multiple times but never for long, normally to be told off by his uncle.

He decided to start with the broad desk. That was where all the paper work was done after all, right? There was nothing on the desk except a lamp and a paper weight, so Blaine started to search the drawers. Nothing.

The cupboards were next in cue and he was just considering which one to search first as the fireplace attracted his attention. He hadn't noticed at first but so close to it he could smell the fresh ash. Something had been burned in this room not so long ago. Quickly, he kneeled down and his worst suspicion was confirmed. In the fireplace was his letter, burnt beyond recognition. He could barely make out the green ink and the words had become unreadable. As he touched the burnt paper it mouldered under his finger tips.

Blaine felt like crying. There had been something. A possibility and now it was gone. He didn't know if for worse or for better but now he'd never find out.

Downstairs he heard the door fall shut loudly and directly after, Cooper's loud babbling and his aunt's voice. Blaine jumped to his feet and was about to run out of the office when something in the corner of his eye attracted his attention. Beneath the open window, on the windowsill lay an envelope. Quickly he went over to take a look. There was an address on it, written in Vernon's clear handwriting. Well, if you could call it an address, because as a postman Blaine would have had no idea where to deliver it to. It said:

A.D.

Hog. Sch. Of Wit. & Wiz.

That was all. No Street, no town, no postcode, but the way it was placed on the envelope made it clear what it was supposed to be. Blaine was about to open it when he heard the creaking of the stairs. That brought him back to reality and he left the office at pace, closing the door behind him. It clicked. The door was locked again.

Just as he was three strides from the door, Aunt Petunia came into view. She eyed him suspiciously but said nothing. As he turned the corner, he could hear her trying to open the door and her relieved sigh as the door didn't budge.

Blaine hadn't figured anything out by the time he came down for breakfast the next morning. The letter on Vernon's window sill was strange but that was all overshadowed by the feeling of dull emptiness and regret the burnt letter had left him with.

He was pushing the scrambled eggs around on his plate as Miss Figg entered with the morning post. He also didn't pay attention to her giving letters and cards to Vernon and Petunia until she turned and said: "And three letters for Blaine."

Everyone else in the room but Cooper froze for a moment, before Blaine and Vernon leapt up at the same time, aiming for the letters. Blaine had them first but uncle Vernon grabbed him from behind.

They struggled for a moment but Blaine stood no chance. Over the cries of Miss Figg and Petunia and Cooper's confused babbling, Vernon wrenched the letters from Blaine's hands and yelled "Quiet!", shutting everyone up effectively. Blaine was still struggling in Vernon's grasp, held on arm's length to keep him in check and away from what he craved.

Vernon started to speak, calm and seemingly in control of the situation.

"Cooper. Go to your room and make yourself busy. I don't care what you do, just go." Cooper made an attempt to complain but a furious look from his father shut him down instantly and he left without another word.

"Miss Figg. I think you should take the holiday you asked for now. Pack your bags; take the next train or plane or whatever. I don't care. Just send me the bill."

Miss Figg cleared her throat, her eyes darting forth and back between Vernon and Blaine.

"I don't think that now is the right moment, Sir..." She started but she was also silenced by the head of the house.

"I think now is the perfect moment Miss Figg and if you insist to think otherwise than you're FIRED!"

Miss Figg gasped. She had been with the Andersons nearly as long as Blaine had. Nearly 10 years. She gave Blaine another worried look and then left the room, her expression still torn.

Now it was only Petunia, Blaine and Vernon in the room.

"I want to know what is going on!" Blaine managed to get out, still restricted by his uncle.

"Vernon, maybe it really is time. What if we can't stop it? The things that happened? What if it is dangerous for him, for us... for Cooper to leave him in the dark?" Petunia's voice was shaking and barely audible, as she had a hand clutched over her mouth, her eyes big and worried.

Her words managed what Vernon's hands hadn't; they made Blaine stop moving.

"What? What is it? What are you keeping from me?" Blaine demanded to know but his uncle simply stared at his wife.

"We spent ten years on this. I am not giving up now! We planned for that and if they don't leave us alone, we know what to do Petunia. Love, we know what we do. We are being responsible here. We are the good people."

Uncle Vernon made next to no sense to Blaine and he finally wanted to know what was going on. He observed the quiet conversation going on between his aunt and uncle, Vernon's look of determination slowly changing Petunia's worried gaze into something equally resolute.

She let out a shaky breath, straightened up and went over to where the two men were standing. She took the letters from Vernon's hand, stepped back and started to rip the envelopes to pieces.

"Nooo!" Blaine yelped, escaping Vernon's loosened grab in an attempt of getting one of the letters but Vernon was too fast.

He felt it before he heard or even saw it. Pain in his face as Vernon's flat hand managed to hit him square in the face. There was so much force behind it and it knocked Blaine of his feet and sent him flying to the ground.

His face burnt. His back hurt and he couldn't see anything, as his glasses had been sent flying in a different direction.

Blaine could only make out schemes of the other people in the. Blood was pounding in his ears, making it impossible to hear anything. He felt a headache coming.

It seemed like aunt and uncle were arguing again but in the end Vernon stomped his foot on the floor and then ran out. Petunia stood still for a moment before moving, bowing down and then she kneeled beside him.

A hand around his wrist pulled him into a sitting position and glasses were carelessly shoved back into his face. Aunt Petunia was kneeling beside him.

"... not allowed to leave the house." He heard her saying as the pounding in his ears vanished.

"You mustn't open the windows your uncle says and don't ask questions." Her expression was emotionless. Blaine felt like crying. The letters were only shreds of paper. His uncle had hit him and not only had his aunt done nothing to help him but had stood by and destroyed the letters herself.

But what did he expect? He was still staring into her blue, emotionless eyes ,seeing nothing but the reflection of his own fearful ones and then, just for a moment he thought he saw something else. Something like... pity?

But then it was gone and aunt Petunia stood up, collecting the leftovers of Blaine's letters. She left the room without another word.