And Here's chapter One. This was not edited for content, I just fixed a few grammar mistakes and spelling errors that stood out the most. If you notice any more, please let me know.

Thank you for all the reviews, favorites, and follows for this old story. I didn't think it would be popular as old as it is.

Disclaimer-I still own nothing.


Chapter One-Behind Door Number One

"Trowa? Trowa what is it?" Quatre's voice was nearing frantic in his ear, but Trowa couldn't find it in him to respond, he just kept staring at the occupant of the small cupboard under the stairs. The little boy stared quietly back, looking at him out of the innocent green eyes. He couldn't be more than three or four, the age of the Dursleys' whale of a son, Dudley. There were plenty of bedrooms in the home, even excluding the one that he had taken up for the duration of his stay.

So what was he doing locked in the small space?

"Trowa, answer me! Have you found it?" Trowa blinked as the blonde's voice penetrated his shock and he pulled his focus away from the kid for a few precious seconds.

Seconds in which the little boy acted. As soon as Trowa's attention faltered for a second, the boy reached out and tugged the door to his 'room' closed with a snap, leaving Trowa blinking.

What the hell was going on in this house?

"03, status!" Heero's voice barked over the link, and Trowa winced. Looked like Quatre had gotten tired of his lack of response and decided to pull in reinforcements. He could ignore Quatre for a decent amount of time, but to ignore Heero...Trowa didn't have a death wish.

"The mission has gained...complications." He phrased it as delicately as he could as he sank back onto his heels and studied the door in front of him. Complications was an understatement.

"Explain." Heero's voice held a warning note and Trowa sighed. Great, the Wing pilot was in one of his moods...for lack of a better word. The fact that the Heavyarms pilot had been aggravating Heero's boyfriend, had nothing to do with he was sure.

Yeah, and Pigs flew on a daily basis.

"I found a likely hiding spot for the target, and when I investigated, I found the complication." How to explain that the complication was a little boy? Maybe the subtle/blunt way would be the best. "He seems to be about four."

There was a few seconds of silence.

"He?" Quatre's voice was confused, and Trowa didn't blame him. "The complication is a he?" Trowa sighed.

"Yes. A child, male, about four years old. He was locked into the cleaning cupboard beneath the subjects stairs."

Silence reigned over the radio again. But not for long.

"There's only one child in the Dursley Home. Surely they wouldn't lock up their own child?!" Quatre's voice raised on the last word, causing feedback to race into his ear and Trowa yanked the earpiece out with a quiet curse.

A muffled gasp came from behind the door, and the child's voice came through softly.

"Bad word. Aun' Tueny was mouth out!" The boy's voice was childish and stern, and Trowa crawled closer to the door so he could hear it better, slipping his ear piece back in as he did so, pointedly ignoring the rant that was going on the other end.

"Negative. Dudley Dursley sleeps in bedroom number three. This is an unknown member of the household." He could hear the quiet tapping ho Heero's computer, and the mutters that were coming from the Japanese pilot's mouth as he tried to find the information they shouldn't have missed the first time around.

The member of surveillance who had watched the house before the mission were going to be on the receiving end of Heero's wrath, or his gun, by the time this was all over.

"Have you gotten a name?" Quatre's voice held an undercurrent the Heavyarms pilot didn't like, and a shudder ran through him. Heero may be blatantly homicidal but Quatre was insane when pushed over the edge and none of the pilots wanted to see that again. ZERO was a force to be reckoned with.

"Not yet, the child is talking though." Barely, but talking was still talking.

"Get a name, 04. Primary directive of the mission has changed for the time being. The child may have the answer that we need, or may be the way to get them." Trowa nodded, seeing where the other pilot's thought were going.

If you couldn't' find evidence of one crime, evidence of another was just as good.

They just had to get the kid to talk.

"Understood." He sighed and leaned forwards to knock lightly on the door to the cupboard. He refrained from pulling it open again. The boy's quick closing of the door as soon as a chance was available made him assume that the boy was not used to being noticed. They needed him to cooperate, so keeping him comfortable was priority.

"Go 'way." Trowa raised an eyebrow as the boys voice reached him.

"I just want to talk, child. Can you tell me your name?" Trowa was reminded of the fact, that even though he worked in the circus, he was no good with children. At all. This was Duo, or Wufei's purview, kids were generally freaked out by how quiet he was.

That and the fact that he couldn't remember ever being a child himself.

There was a silence for a second from the other side of the door.

"Boy. Now Go 'Way." Things just kept getting worse and worse. Boy was not a name, and Trowa told him as such.

"Boy Is not a name child. What do Vernon and Petunia call you?" Trowa refused to call the couple Aunt and Uncle. Not only were they not his family, they were two of the worst people that the pilot had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

And that was saying a lot.

There was silence from the cupboard for a few precious seconds, Trowa straining to listen to both the little boy and for signs that the tranqs had worn off.

It was unlikely, but it was the last thing that he needed at the moment.

"Freak?"The boy was even less sure of his name this time, and Trowa found himself seeing red. How could a child not know his name? True, he hadn't known his while he grew up, but that was because the Mercs hadn't wanted to replace the name his parents had given him, in case he did regain his memory. The pilot sighed and sat back on his heels.

"01?" Trowa spoke softly into the mike, he didn't want the prisoner of a boy to hear more than he probably already had.

"Hnn" Heero answered his call almost immediately, slipping back into the monosyllables that he had used during the war.

"When we investigated the Dursleys the first time around, was there any indication of a family member that was around four or five? A cousin perhaps?" Heero snorted in disgust that Trowa thought he missed something, but the other pilot could hear keys clacking as he typed away. It only took a moment for the pieces to begin to fall into place

"Petunia Dursley's Sister, the sister who is your 'mother', did have a biological son, Harry James Potter. He is listed as missing, presumed deceased, so we did not take him into consideration when crafting your cover story. She has not taken any lengths to find him." Heero sounded surprised at how big of a hole they had left in their preparation.

"Could this be him?" Trowa nearly jumped at Quatre's voice. The blond had been quiet since Heero came on the line, and Trowa almost forgot that he had been part of the conversation at first.

"Unknown. The child..." Trowa was cut off as a door slammed open at the top of the stairs, and the lights on the staircase popped on. Vernon Dursley's footsteps could be heard pounding from his room and Trowa shot to his feet, moving rapidly into the shadows and sinking back as the eldest Dursley shuffled past towards the kitchen, slamming a meaty hand onto the cupboard as he passed it. Trowa saw red, but could do nothing at that moment.

He still had to complete his mission.

He moved out of the shadows as soon as Dursley's back was turned on him, pressing a gentle hand to the cupboard door as he did so. He knew it did nothing, but he felt better for it.

As he moved quickly up the stairs, he had only one thought.

Next time he was going to triple those tranqs!