"No!" bellowed Thomas as Grindelwald charged into his home, leveling everything in his path. "They didn't do anything!"

Tom turned to his hostage. "They know the existence of wizards. The Dursleys may have the effect of a particularly useless mosquito, but if your neighbors ever decided you weren't crazy, we could have problems on our hands."

"My lord," called Avery, "They have been arranged in the parlor for your… treatment."

Tom continued. "There are rumors of a weapon powerful enough to wipe out a street full of people-- even wizards—instantly. No, the day is gone when we could treat muggles like baby garden gnomes."

"Help!" called Mrs. Dursley from inside. "Jacob, the witch hazel didn't work!"

"Their science is getting past spontaneous generation. It was with the utmost relief we realized that this theory of evolution was not going to give us away; how much longer can we wait? There are six billion of them, and six billion enemies of any kind must be wiped out."

Thomas gritted his teeth. "The only reason we are enemies is you make us so." He stared with a flaming intensity into the window of the parlor. The men in robes grew smaller and smaller, began to sprout hair and tails, and scampered out of his home. This wasn't right, this was what they did! Why couldn't he stop turning into his worst fear? What could he do that wouldn't be just what his family expected of wizards?

"Thomas! Thomas, where have they taken you?"

The future wasn't the immediate issue, he remembered as he watched Grindelwald vanish his men and then himself. Jerkily, Thomas pulled off the robe and mask he had been forced into and thrust them into the bushes. "Mum, I'm here!"

"Did they hurt you?"

He stared at his shoes, refusing to look his sister in the eyes. "I was kidnapped, and they got our address out of me. Looked straight into my mind," he told them in a flat, emotionless voice. At least the second part was true.

Always cool and collected, Robert asked, "Why did they go away?"

"I don't know, maybe the witch hazel finally kicked in."

"Too bad it didn't stop them from taking you, though."

Somehow, Thomas knew his brother would be the first to discover his secret, and he grew hot at the idea. "Can I just go to bed, then? I'm a bit rattled."

Jacob Dursley smiled nervously at his family. "That's a good idea. I think we could all use an early night."

Three days later, the Dursleys began work on their underground hiding place. Cousin Derrick was an engineer, and Aunt Rachel an architect, and it was only thanks to them that one of the first estates ever built a few yards under a sewer was a success. The house was enormous, meant to hold many generations of Dursleys, and made in the style of an old-fashioned manor.

Eight years later, the clan moved in. Robert and Susan did not. They had been taken in by the D'Angelo family only months before. Thomas was happy. No one would guess his secret.