The closet was cramped, but the two boys huddled inside were glad of it. It meant they were warmer under their moth bitten blue blanket. The two 4 and half year old boys were currently arguing, though they did this in hushed tones for fear that Uncle Vernon would stick his beetroot face inside the closet and yell at them for making so much noise.

"Well I think we SHOULD tell her, she's nice." Harry said defensively. Currently the two boys were at odds about their preschool teacher, Miss Easterbee, who had been far too perceptive for their own good.

Miss Easterbee was very nice though, she'd always let them have the orange quarters like all the other children. She treated them like they were normal and never once called them freaks. But she was always asking them awkward questions and writing the answers down in a special book that she'd give to the principal.

She'd taken one look at the bruises that were visible when the boys had to take off their baggy old jumpers, the empty lunch boxes, how frightfully skinny they were and called this thing called ChildLine. A funny looking man came into talk to the class about how Mummy's and Daddy's should always be nice to their children. Now the grown-ups were always asking questions and always watching them. It made Harry uncomfortable and Hayden nervous.

Then Miss Easterbee had told them they would need to come to a special meeting with a lot of people. She'd said that it might be a bit boring but if it worked out right they'd be better off. The twins didn't know what this meant but Dudley had told Vernon and Petunia and they'd been acting strange for a few days. For one thing they didn't have to do half as many chores. And they got two full meals, a day!

Harry argued that Miss Easterbee had brought this on, it was good. Miss Easterbee was nice and smelled pretty, and she'd only brought them good so far, after all she was the one who figured out Hayden and him needed glasses. Harry said this is why they should return her kindness by answering her questions.

Hayden was less trusting of the kind teacher and was reminding Harry of how the last time they lowered their defenses to a seemingly kind Grown-Up that particular one, Mrs Figg, treated them to a lengthy lecture on cats and then told their aunt and uncle when they fell asleep in the middle of her speech. They hadn't eaten for 3 days after that, for being disrespectful to their elders.

"No, we'll get in trouble! Uncle Vernon said no talking about home, or else!" Hayden pleaded to his identical counterpart. The only difference between them was Harry had a lighting bolt shaped scar on his forehead while Hayden had a burn mark on his left forearm which Harry claimed looked like a skull with something like a tongue sticking out of it. Or maybe a snake.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you Haydy?" Harry goaded him, using a different tactic. His brother only showed weakness in front of him, all other times he was scowling and defensive. Sometimes Harry could be cunning enough to use this against him.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt. I mean what if you get the Belt? Or no food for a whole week!" Hayden said and crossed his bony arms across his chest in a very defensive manner. And that at the bottom of it was the truth. Hayden was always looking out for Harry and Harry was always looking out for Hayden.

"I won't, we'll be fine." Harry assured him, and with that it was settled. Next day of school they'd tell the Grown-Ups what they wanted.

"Harry, look at you! You have holes all through your clothes, what's your aunt going to say!" Miss Easterbee exclaimed at the sight of Harry unhooking his large clothes from a snag wire on the fence. Hayden tensed up, knowing his brother would tell her the truth this time.

Hayden quickly checked for exits, and was worried to find that the playground outside their preschool was so empty that the teacher could see everything for a long way. No chance of running if things turned ugly then. Maybe that bush in the corner there, they could hide behind that.... Hayden's thought process was interrupted by the talking of Miss Easterbee and the children around her.

Hayden would have been happy about Harry not answering, if it had not been because of Dudley answering for him. "She's gonna get him in trouble! Harry's gonna get in trouble for being a naughty freak!" their fat cousin had called out. He then started a chant with the other preschoolers.

"Freak's getting in trouble, Freak's getting in trouble, Freak's getting in trouble!!!" They called out in a taunting tone. Even pretty little Ashley joined in. Hayden watched as Harry sniffled, his brother dared not cry outright for fear of harsher teasing.

"Stop! That's enough!" Miss Easterbee's voice cut through the horrid chant. "What have we said about put-downs? They're not nice."

"But my mum DOES call him a freak, and my dad does too." Dudley retorted, obviously confused as to why he should deny what his parents had taught him was the truth. Miss Easterbee looked very grave at this news.

Hayden hung back from rushing to his brothers side and pulling him away from the jeering crowd. He got himself into this mess, he could get himself out again. Hayden watched with hardened eyes as Miss Easterbee took his brother inside, away from the children and to the school solicitors. His throat felt dry as he did not join his twin but he ignored it and found a place to hide. Knowing how his classmates minds worked, he would be their next target.

"Hayden, I'm sorry," Harry said for the millionth time whilst they were doing their chores. Harry was sweeping up in the kitchen while Hayden dusted the living room. It was Harry's fault they had extra jobs. The only good thing that had come out of this incident was that the Dursleys wouldn't even shout at them, well in public, and that they'd got Dudley's second bedroom and a pair of fitting clothes each.

Hayden was yet to forgive him for what happened to the only kind Grown-Up in the world. When Harry had retreated inside with Miss Easterbee and told her all aspects of his and Hayden's life she had gotten mad. Not mad at them, she was all too quick to assure them, but mad at their aunt and uncle.

She had told Harry that she would be filing a neglect and abuse complaint to the police station and hopefully soon they could go and live with new mummy and daddy, wouldn't that be nice? Well it would, if it had actually happened. All adults were liars. Even the ones that seemed nice, like Miss Easterbee.

Hayden had allowed himself to hope against hope, in spite of his misgivings, and thus suffered twice the disappointment. Two days after Harry had talked to the people Miss Easterbee called Children's Workers, a man came in and told the class that Miss Easterbee was suffering from severe amnesia, (where you forget everything, he had explained to the class. Hayden had been worried she might forget to breathe!) And that she could not come back. Ever.

It was obvious the news of their life had been so horrible that they had killed Miss Easterbee. No, not they - Harry. Yes it was all Harry's fault. She was going to die and it was all Harry's fault. Well, it was Aunt Petunia who said that it was their fault she forget everything and the last time they heard the phase "not coming back, ever" was when Uncle Vernon's mum died. So it made sense, Harry was a murderer.

"Don't talk to me, murderer," Hayden spat and then purposely swept the dust off the book shelf onto the floor, to make more work for Harry. As he did so he felt a pain in his chest, like his heart was ripping in two. That must also be Harry's fault.

"I'm not a murderer, Haydy, and you know it." Harry said, trying to disguise the sadness in his voice with anger.

"I know you're the reason Miss Easterbee forgot things, and that she forgot how to breathe like Grandma Dursley got attacked by a heart," Hayden said reasonably.

"You said you'd forgive me for anything, that I was your bestest friend!" Harry cried. Hayden scowled at him, regretting that he was a murderer's twin.

"I said, don't talk to me, murderer!" shouted Hayden hysterical now, the pain in his chest was twice as bad and his throat was hurting from his shout. Harry only ever caused him pain.

Aunt Petunia took that moment to scurry in. She took on look at the boys, red-faced with their cleaning instruments thrown on the floor facing each other down, and screamed. "Do your work, brats!"

Harry was all hyped up from his argument with Hayden, and snapped "No!" It was all he said, but even a large speech could not of done worse damage to him. Petunia was calling for Vernon to get down here and punish the freaks, now. Harry, terrified, tried to run out of the door. A bad mistake.

"Want to leave do you, ungrateful freak? Good!" And with that she pushed him, and he fell. He fell bad, Hayden knew it from where he stood. Rooted to the spot with fear, Hayden gasped when saw Harry's arm bend funny under him, and felt it in his own arm.

That was all Hayden needed, nothing stopped him this time from rushing to Harry's side and hugging onto him tight. Even when Aunt Petunia slapped him across the face and Uncle Vernon hauled the boys into their closet.

In the dark calm of their space, they started to cool down. Hayden dully realized Harry was crying and so was he. His face stung and his right arm ached in sympathy for Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm sorry." Hayden said repetitively, and could not stop himself from saying it over and over again. It was like it was bringing him back to earth, with each repetition his arm ached less and the pain in his chest lessened.

"It's alright, Haydy, do you forgive me?" Harry said softly. Hayden's heart leaped with affection for his brother, he could never stay mad with Harry, anymore than he would stay mad at himself.

"O-of course, Harry. It wasn't your fault anyway, Grown-Ups are just mean." Hayden assured his brother, who nodded along weakly to what he said. They sat there a moment, in silence, not knowing what to say.

"Can you move your fingers?" Hayden asked Harry. He had heard Aunt Petunia say the same thing to Dudley when he fell off his bike.

Harry looked down at his hand and tried, he gave out a little gasp of pain. "N-no, what does that mean?" Harry asked his twin. To be truthful, Hayden didn't know what it meant. When Dudley had been able to Aunt Petunia had gushed over him, called him a brave boy and put an ice pack on Dudley's arm. She'd also told him not to over use it, so since Harry couldn't maybe that meant he should do the opposite? Hayden really didn't know.

"Umm, perhaps you'll feel better in the morning? I mean, whenever Dudley gets sick Aunt Petunia tells him to sleep it off." Hayden offered, he really wanted to help Harry.

"Okay, Haydy, I trust you." Harry told him, and settled himself down in the cot which they shared. Hayden watched as his brother went to sleep and made a silent vow to himself that when he grew up, he'd become a doctor so he could always help his Harry.

When the two boys where allowed out of the closet two days later they looked weak to the untrained eye. Harry's arm was in a sling made out of Hayden's shirt (inspired by a dream Hayden had one night) and they were both starving.

But if you looked closely enough you could see how they carried themselves with pride and how from that day forth one was always there for the other one to lean on. That nothing could ever make them truly fight again and that given the chance one would die for the other.