The first chapter has been edited thanks to my beta la baguette and I also received this chapter back too. So you lucky guys get a new chapter yay. I know I switch point of view on occasion my beta doesn't like it either, but this story will more than likely switch between Evan's and Harry's POV.

Once again thank you for your time and consideration.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, just Evan he's mine, like Cat was.

Warnings: Child Abuse.

Chapter 2 – The Letters keep coming

By the time the boys got out of the cupboard, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new cine-camera, crashed his remote-control aeroplane. Also, first time on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs Figg as she had crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

The boys were glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon were all big and stupid. But as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was their leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favourite sport: Harry hunting.

This was why Harry and Evan spent as much time as possible out of the house. Harry would help Evan searching for wood, and talking about the end of the summer holidays. Evan was very creative; he had been making Harry figurines carved from wood for years now. He had started off small: using the blade from a sharpener, he had created a small wooden cat and presented it to Harry for his birthday one year. Slowly his pieces had gotten better, and last year, he had given Harry a doe. He didn't know why he had carved that particular animal - so far, he had created lots of different cats, thanks to the many photographs that they had viewed at Mrs Figg's - so, he wasn't sure why he had decided to carve the deer, this time.

But the two boys couldn't wait for the end of the holidays. In September, they would start secondary school, and for the first time in their lives they wouldn't be at the same school as Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers was going there too. Harry and Evan on the other hand, were going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought it was funny and teased them about it. Of course, Harry was quick witted and turned the insults back round on Dudley causing Evan to laugh at their dim-witted cousin.

Then a letter arrived. It was addressed to Evan, through the care of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. Harry and Evan weren't sure exactly what it would be; they shared worried glances all day, until that evening at dinner, when Harry and Evan were clearing up the empty plates. Uncle Vernon cleared his throat. Harry nudged Evan.

"Tomorrow you will be accompanying Petunia and Dudley into London. An appointment has opened up for you to get a final fitting for your hearing aids." Uncle Vernon scowled at Evan. "But, they cost a lot of money. It is only because we need to get Dudley's new Smeltings uniform that you are even going to this appointment. There will be no funny business, understand?" Uncle Vernon reached out and held onto Evan's upper arm digging his fingers in. Evan nodded. "Speak boy!" he spat.

"Yes sir." Evan said.

"We didn't send you to speech therapy for nothing. Do you know how much you've cost us since you came to live here?"

"No, Sir," Evan replied.

"It was more than you could ever afford, the pair of you!" he snapped. "We took you in, and all you do is cost us money. Don't ever forget that." He released Evan who moved away rubbing his arm as he helped Harry in the kitchen.


The next day, Harry was left at Mrs. Figg's. Harry found it wasn't as bad as usual. Mrs Figg had broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, she wasn't quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television, gave him a bit of chocolate cake, that tasted as though she'd had it for several years. He wondered how Evan was. Then he looked around the house an at Mrs. Figg who was struggling about on her crutches, Evan would be helpful in some form. He looked around the roomy dismissing the television. He stood and walked from her living room, squeezing past her armchair into the kitchen. He knew what he could do to help now.


Meanwhile, Evan was sitting in the waiting room. He had tried on his new hearing aids and was getting used to the feel and the different noises he could hear. It was strange going from near silence to hearing people in the waiting room chatting. soon, he would be called back inside for a final adjustment, and then he would finally have his own pair of working ears. He smiled at the thought.


Harry had helped Mrs. Figg rearrange her living room. She could now travel through the room without struggling. He had also helped to assemble several meals that she could freeze. They would not be too much hassle for her to reheat. He smiled, glad that he and Evan and he were the ones to do most of the cooking at the Dursleys. He even helped to make a fresh chocolate cake, which she had enjoyed. He knew Evan would be proud of him for his good deeds.


Evan had to stifle his laughter as he stood in the shop with Aunt Petunia watching as Dudley got fitted for his school uniform. It was a ghastly thing with the most ridiculous colours. He suppressed another snigger as Aunt Petunia sent a glare his way. He could see the tears in her eyes, she was so proud of her Ickle Dudleykins. Evan couldn't wait to get back to Harry and finally be able to have a real conversation with him. Sure, the ringing in his ears was still there but he could hear so much more now.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. It was still ghastly; a maroon tailcoat, orange knickerbockers and a flat straw hat called a boater. They also carried knobbly sticks. That they used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. Apparently, this was good training for later life. Evan and Harry saw it as another weapon they had to avoid. Evan was trying not to fiddle with his hearing aids. He was hoping that they would forget about them as they watched Dudley parade about.

Uncle Vernon was watching Dudley in his new uniform. He said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Harry and Evan had to turn away, a snicker escaping from between their lips. But that was enough to draw Uncle Vernon's attention to Evan.

"And how much did they cost us?" his eyes flicked from Aunt Petunia to Evan who was fiddling with his hearing aids again.

The price of hearing aids had been very steep. Their aunt and uncle never liked to spend money on them, but Evan needed them as much as Harry needed his glasses. Evan jumped as Uncle Vernon exclaimed "How much?" their uncle's eyes turned menacingly towards him.

"It was the final fitting; he won't need any more for a few years." Aunt Petunia looked down her nose at Evan. "We won't be receiving anymore letters pestering us about them now." She sniffed.

Evan wondered how often they had received a medical letter about him. But he was glad he wouldn't need to go to anymore appointments. They always checked his eyes and shone the bright light into them which left him with a headache. Uncle Vernon turned to stare at Evan, he summoned him closer.

"Don't forget boy, we own these not you, you are borrowing them. Misbehave in anyway and I will not hesitate to take them from you. Understand?" he snarled.

"Yes sir." Evan nodded.

"Oh, just look at Ickle Dudleykins in his new uniform. I would have had to travel to London anyway." Aunt Petunia turned tear brimmed eyes to Dudley. "Doesn't he look so handsome and grown up". Uncle Vernon grunted in agreement. Evan and Harry moved away; it looked like Harry would crack a rib if he looked at Dudley any longer.


The next morning, Evan woke to a horrible smell filling his nostrils. He flinched and knocked Harry, waking the younger boy. Harry reached up and found his glasses. He handed Evan his hearing aids and waited as he watched his brother's nose wrinkle.

"What is it?" Harry asked once Evan's hearing aids were in place.

Evan looked at Harry, there was very little light coming through the edges of the cupboard door, and it was still strange knowing that he could have a conversation in the dark with his brother.

"There's a bad smell," he replied, sitting up and looking for a clean set of clothes. Harry followed suit and the boys ventured out of the cupboard. Evan stopped outside of the doorway to the kitchen; the smell was overpowering. Harry continued past him, his nose wrinkling in much the same way. Harry found himself looking into a metal tub in the sink from which the smell was emanating. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.

"What's this?" Harry asked. Aunt Petunia's lips tightened the way they always did when they dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniforms." She said.

"Oh," Harry said, "I didn't realise it had to be so wet," Evan smirked.

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things grey for you both. They'll look like everyone else when I've finished."

Evan and Harry shared a look. There was no way that any old clothes of Dudley's would look anything like a school uniform; it would look more like old elephant skin the way it hung off them. Their first day at Stonewall High would not be a great one.

Dudley pushed past Evan giving him a good whack with his smelting stick as he went, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Uncle Vernon grabbed Evan by the back of the neck and shoved him into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia looked up as Harry and Evan sat at the table. "Not you two," she called out as they reached for a slice of toast each. "You didn't help make it, so you don't get to eat it." She snapped. So that was their punishment for asking a question.

They removed their hands from the toast as Dudley's smelting stick struck out towards their fingers. They sat at the table as Uncle Vernon disappeared behind his newspaper. The letter box flapped as letters were delivered. Evan could see several letters on the doormat, from his seat at the table.

"Get the post, Dudley" Uncle Vernon said from behind the newspaper.

"Make one of them get it."

"Get the post boy."

Evan watched Harry, who was sitting closest to Dudley, dodge the smelting stick on his way to the hallway. The stick came swinging towards Evan's head then, and he caught the stick mid swing. Dudley blinked in shock. "Dad he's got my stick," Dudley whined, a grin spreading on his face. Evan flinched, letting go of the stick as the rolled-up newspaper contacted his head.

"How dare you touch his things?" Uncle Vernon snarled.

The newspaper hit him again before it reopened, and Uncle Vernon retreated behind it.

Evan sighed, looking down into the hallway. Harry stood transfixed. He held an envelope in is hands and seemed to have forgotten what it was he was doing. Evan rose from his chair.

"Where do you think you're going? It doesn't take two of you to collect the post." Uncle Vernon snarled. "Hurry up, boy!" He shouted causing Evan to flinch. "What are you doing checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry returned to the kitchen, handing over a bill and a post card and sat down. Evan leant closer to Harry as he realised that Harry still held a letter. The envelope looked thick and heavy. It looked as though it was made from a yellowish parchment with the address written in emerald green ink. Evan's mouth dropped open.

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Harry was just about to unfold the letter when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" Harry tried to snatch his letter back.

"Who would be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it.

Evan watched as his uncle's face turned impossibly white. Evan stared at the crest on the back: a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake surrounding a large letter 'H'. He had never seen his Uncle this terrified before. Uncle Vernon stuttered when he called Aunt Petunia's name. They watched as she took the letter; she looked like she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a chocking noise.

"Vernon! Oh, my goodness – Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Evan and Dudley were still in the room.

"Hogwarts." Evan said looking at the back of the envelope. Harry turned stunned eyes towards his brother. Dudley who was mid swing with his stick, stared at him. In fact all eyes were on Evan now.

"What did you say?" Aunt Petunia asked frightfully.

"Hogwha-," Dudley exclaimed.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, his face returning to its usual purple hue. He grabbed Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall. He turned, grabbing Evan viciously by the arm, and pushing him up against the closed kitchen door. Evan knew that Harry and Dudley would be outside the door trying to listen into the conversation. But he didn't understand why he was still in the room and why his uncle was so angry. The grip on his arm tightened.

"What did you say?" Uncle Vernon glowered.

"Hogwarts," Evan replied, in a whisper.

"Where have you heard that name before?" the grip around his arm tightened.

"I don't know," he cried flinching as Uncle Vernon's fist landed above his head.

"But there's only one," Petunia turned to Evan, her eyes filled with sympathy when she looked at him. Then she turned the envelope over. "Vernon," she said in a quivering voice, "look at the address – how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

Uncle Vernon turned away from Evan. "Watching – spying- might be following us," Uncle Vernon muttered.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-"

"No," Uncle Vernon lowered Evan to the floor. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer… yes, that's best… we won't do anything..."

"But—" Aunt Petunia began.

"I'm not having one in my house! We swore when we took them in we'd stamp out this dangerous nonsense. He is not going! Neither of them are, and that is final!" He shouted, opening the door and throwing Evan out.

"Are you alright?" Concerned green eyes looked to where Evan was lying sprawled on the floor.

"Yeah, nothing broken so could be worse." Evan shrugged. "I've never seen them so scared. They are terrified of Hogwarts." Evan bit his lip. "But they've known about it for a long time. Perhaps…" he stopped mid-sentence, then barrelled on. "Perhaps it's a way for us to escape," Evan said a small smile tugging at his lips. Harry nodded.

They spent the rest of the day outside of the house brainstorming ideas about what Hogwarts could possibly be. Evan's mind travelled back to his book sat on the shelf in the cupboard under the stairs.

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon visited Harry and Evan in their cupboard. They were surprised and waited with bated breath. They shared a look before Harry asked his burning question, not caring about the consequences.

"Where's my Hogwarts letter?" Harry asked.

Uncle Vernon flinched, his eyes travelling to Evan before drifting back to Harry. "I burned it," he replied shortly.

"But it was addressed to me, my cupboard and all." Harry said angrily.

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, causing a couple of spiders to fall from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile. Evan hated when he did that; not only did it look painful, but it usually meant they were in for a rough time.

"So, about this cupboard. We've decided that the two of you are getting too big for it." The boys looked at one another; considering they slept top and tailed on the single bed, they had long known they were too big for the cupboard. "Aunt Petunia and I thought it would be good if you both moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" Evan asked.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped their uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs now."

The Dursley's house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge). One where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It took the boys one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard to this room. Besides the bed, everything else in the room was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank that Dudley had once driven over the next door's dog; In the corner was Dudley's first ever television. Which he had put his foot through after his favourite television show had been cancelled; there was a large bird cage, which had once held a parrot, Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle- Evan was sure he'd tried to shoot Harry with that once. It now sat on a shelf, the end bent after Dudley had sat on it. The other shelves had books, which hadn't been touched; Dudley wasn't exactly a reader.

Evan stopped, staring out the window. He snorted. They were in a bedroom, a bedroom with a window.

"Which side do you want?" Evan asked.

Harry smiled and pointed to the side closest the wall. "Of course," Evan chuckled; he'd always slept closest to the door in the cupboard under the stairs.

"Do you think I'll get another one?" Harry asked.

"Depends how badly they want to talk to you." Evan smiled, he glanced over at his dog-eared book. "If it was me, I wouldn't stop." He selected a new book from the shelf and sat on the bed, Harry stretching out behind him.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smeltings stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother. He'd even thrown his tortoise through the green house roof, and still he didn't have his room back. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly. The letter box rattled, Uncle Vernon sent Dudley to get the mail. He banged his stick against everything in the hallway. "There's another one," he shouted, "Mr. H Potter, the smallest bedroom."

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat. Evan stuck his foot out, tripping Uncle Vernon as Harry raced out into the hall. Uncle Vernon thundered after him. Uncle Vernon wrestled the two boys to the ground wrenching the letter away from them. He stood up gasping for breath. "Go to your cupboard – I mean your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley go- just go." He turned angrily towards Evan.

Evan edged into the bedroom, sometime later as Harry was repairing the alarm clock. Harry looked up, stopping what he was doing.

"You didn't have to do that you know." He guided Evan to the bed.

"Had to give you a chance." Evan chuckled. "Told you they wouldn't give up."

Harry helped Evan into bed and gently removed his hearing aids, placing them beside the bed. He finished repairing the alarm clock. this time he had a plan.


Evan rolled away from the noise of the newly repaired alarm clock. It blared angrily that it was six in the morning, he sat up handing Harry his glasses and finding his hearing aids. The alarm clock was silenced as the boys dressed. Evan wished Harry luck as he stole downstairs. Harry was going to wait on the corner of Privet Drive for the postman. He'd collect the letters for number four before the Dursleys realised he was out of the house.

Evan rushed downstairs when the lights turned on. Uncle Vernon shouted at Harry for at least half an hour, then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Evan stood on the stairs as three letters landed in Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry returned from the kitchen and watched in dismay as Uncle Vernon tore them up in front of him. Uncle Vernon stayed home from work that day, and nailed up the letter box.

On Friday, twelve letters arrived for Harry, not through the letter box but through the cracks all around the door. Some had even been forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed home again. He burnt the letters and boarded up all the cracks around the front and back door, so no one could leave the house. He jumped at small noises which delighted Evan, as every now and then he would make a door squeak or drop something out of sight; it was petty, but it was more than deserved.

Saturday, twenty-four letters all addressed to Harry managed to get into the house. Some letters were rolled up and hidden inside the eggs. Two dozen eggs the very confused milkman handed Aunt Petunia through the window. The letters were shredded in the food processor. Dudley, just as surprised as the Potter boys, even asked, "Who wants to speak to you so badly?"

Uncle Vernon sat blissfully at the kitchen table on Sunday, he looked tired but blissful.

"No post on Sundays," he said cheerfully.

With a swish, he was whacked on the back of the head as a letter shot out of the chimney. A rumbling alerted them all to the next thirty to forty letters flying out of the fireplace. The Dursley's ducked but the Potter's stood and tried to grab a letter each. Uncle Vernon grabbed both Potters and threw them out of the room. Aunt Petunia and Dudley came running out of the kitchen. Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. But they could all hear the letters streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"THAT'S IT." Uncle Vernon tried to remain calm but was pulling great tufts out of his moustache in agitation. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his moustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later, they wrenched their way through the front door. And were in the car speeding up the motorway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat. His father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his electronics in his sports bag.

They drove for hours no one saying a word. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while, muttering under his breath about shaking them off. They didn't stop to eat or drink all day, nothing new for Harry and Evan. But Dudley was beside himself, howling that he'd never had such a bad day in his life. He complained he was hungry. He complained that he'd missed five television programmes that he'd wanted to see. And he complained that he hadn't blown up any aliens on his computer.

The car stopped outside a gloomy looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Harry and Evan shared a room with twin beds. Dudley snored loudly. Evan sat up looking at the other end of the bed where he knew Harry was awake. He glanced over to his book and back at Harry. How much longer could this really go on? He shuffled forwards on the bed and Harry sat up. Evan removed an envelope from his bag and held it out to Harry. The familiar emerald ink on the front of the envelope made Harry smile.

"When did you?" Harry asked.

"This morning, before he chucked us into the hall. Do me a favour though: don't open it yet?" Harry cocked his head to the side, he was itching to open it. "I want to see how far it will go even though you haven't opened it." Evan supplied. "They kinda deserve it." He shrugged.

Harry nodded hiding the envelope and settling back into bed.

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had finished eating when the owner of the hotel came over to their table brandishing a letter;

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Uncle Vernon stood up and followed the owner from the dining room. Dudley turned a sneering face to Evan.

"Looks like they've forgotten about you." Evan shrugged. He was used to being forgotten. When the odd stranger greeted them, they always made a beeline straight for Harry, never Evan. Half the time Aunt Petunia forgot he was there, mainly because he was so quiet. He held his dog-eared book tightly. He noticed Aunt Petunia was looking at him with soft eyes. He wasn't sure he understood the look, but he also wasn't comfortable with it.

They were back in the car. Mr Dursley was ignoring everyone when they spoke to him. He was muttering under his breath so low not even Aunt Petunia could make it out. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back into the car, and sped off again. He did the same thing in the middle of a field, and halfway along a suspension bridge.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia while they sat in the parked car at the coast. Uncle Vernon had locked them all inside then disappeared. It began to rain great big drops hitting the bonnet and roof of the car.

"It's Monday," Dudley told his mother, "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."

Evan and Harry looked up at one another. They trusted Dudley to know what the day was because of television. But if today was Monday, then tomorrow was Tuesday, Harry's eleventh birthday. Birthdays weren't exactly a great thing for the two boys; last year the Dursleys had given them a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon old socks. Evan had made sure to give Harry half of his breakfast that day. He'd always try to give him something little, but it's not like they had pocket money to spend. He'd made him this incredible wooden toy doe last year; how he'd managed to make it, Harry had no idea. Evan always refused presents and birthday wishes from Harry- Harry had never asked him why, but Harry had always just been so happy to receive his specially made gifts.

Uncle Vernon returned, making them all jump as the door opened. He was carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he had bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he exclaimed. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was cold and miserable outside the car; the wind swept through them as they made their way down to the sea. Uncle Vernon pointed way out to sea where a rock sat isolated. They could just make out a little shack perched on top of it. One thing was certain there was no television in there.

The wind stole Uncle Vernon's words. Evan couldn't hear what was being said. He looked over at a toothless old man when Uncle Vernon pointed at him. The old man pointed towards a row boat bobbing in the iron-grey water below them.

It was freezing in the boat; the wind whipped the sea up into a frenzy causing it to splash and spray all over them. The rain crept down the back of their necks soaking them to the bone. Uncle Vernon sat at the front of the boat a manic grin on his face. Aunt Petunia clutched Dudley tightly to her as Harry and Evan found a rhythm and rowed the boat out to the rock. Uncle Vernon jumped out of the boat and led them slipping and sliding up to the broken-down shack.

The inside was horrible. It smelled strongly of seaweed. The wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon gave each of them a bag of crisps and a banana. He tried to start a fire, but the empty crisp packets just smoked and shrivelled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" He said cheerfully.

He was in a good mood, a very good mood. Obviously, he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here.

Evan walked over to the fire his uncle had tried to start; he bent low, so they couldn't see what he was doing. He blew on the embers and soon got a roaring fire going. His uncle eyed him with distrust, but Evan shrugged and walked away. Aunt Petunia's eyes flashed briefly with disgust then hurt.

As night fell, a storm erupted overhead. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the shack and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia had found some mouldy blankets in the second room. She proceeded to make up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door. Evan and Harry left with one ragged blanket between them. Evan pulled Harry over to the fire, and they curled up together, trying to stay warm.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Evan took out his hearing aids, but that didn't dull the storm. He knew Harry was awake; it was very cold in the shack. He rolled over. The fire had gone out. Evan sat up and spread his fingers at the smouldering embers; fire shot out of his hand, and the room was soon a glow with light and warmth again. He turned to see Harry had looked over to him when the fire roared to life.

Dudley's digital watch read ten minutes to midnight. Evan carefully got up and searched through their bag for his present. He pulled the card from the front of the book he carried with him. He made his way back over to Harry and handed him the handmade card and present. Harry turned the new creature over in his hands, this one was stag with antlers so intricately carved. It would match the doe from last year. He wondered how his brother had ever managed to make this.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Evan smiled, hugging his brother close. "Maybe you should open your letter now?"

Harry nodded and moved over to the bag, he rummaged around in the bag and pulled out the envelope. The boys settled back by the fire. Harry reached with eager fingers to open the envelope.

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered. Harry and Evan jumped apart, Evan pushing Harry behind him. Harry let go of the letter and watched as it fell into the fire; both boys stared as the emerald ink vanished into the flames. Their eyes returned to the door. Where even without his hearing aids in, Evan could tell someone was outside, knocking to come in.

Thank you for reading.

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