The local library of the village was small and quaint. No one was inside other than Blair, the twins and the librarian who'd shushed Fred for speaking too loudly three times already. The woman, who had a striking resemblance to Madam Pince, watched the three through the aisles and was waiting to get another opportunity to shush them rudely. They headed for the aisle of books that held Cheshire's recent history and picked up five editions that would hopefully hold newspaper articles about disappearances and missing peoples' reports.

"Do you have any idea when your mother died?" George whispered, flicking through the articles that stretched back to the early 1900s.

"It must have been just after I was born. Maybe 1979? 1980?" she suggested.

"Nothing in here," Fred announced as he shut the heavy book. The loud thud of it slamming shut made the table vibrate and the tight-lipped librarian appear around the corner.

"Shhh!"

Fred muttered some insults before shrinking into his crossed arms that sat up on the table. A pile was made of the books that weren't resourceful and soon, Blair and George had one last book in their hands. By this point, other readers had ventured into the library and had begun occupying tables to read research papers, novels and picture books (to which Fred had also picked up to pass the time). The two flicked to the pages that had instances from the late 1900s and started scanning for the word Yaxley.

"Do you think they would have listed your father as well?" George questioned.

"Probably not. I don't think he was at the house long enough for the neighbours to know he was actually my father," Blair mumbled before perking up. "Here she is!"

George and Fred looked up from their books and leaned over to look at the page she had opened up to. A newspaper clipping was glued to the page and had begun to yellow over time. The text and photograph wasn't moving magically, much to the twins' surprise, but it did display the words 'Missing: Jesse Yaxley hasn't been seen since the 28th of March, 1979.' A black and white photograph of a young woman sat beside the long paragraphs. From what they could see, her hair was light and her eyes were exactly like Blair's; dark and with near no separation from her pupils.

"It says her house was found empty the day after they believe she disappeared," Blair read aloud. "Her child, to which will remain unnamed for privacy reasons, was emitted into an orphanage by an anonymous source. The details of what happened at the house on Treaton Street are still unknown."

"That's the house there!" George cried aloud, pointing to the photograph that they hadn't yet noticed. The librarian looked up from her desk and glared fiercely at the three, but went ignored. Another photograph sat at the bottom of the page and showed a seemingly normal looking family home.

"Treaton Street. We'll have to look for that on a map," Blair stated, smiling at their success. "They're bound to have one of the town in here somewhere."

"I'll go look for one."

Fred stood from the table and left into the aisles of books. Heading into the 'Geography' labelled section, he started to look for local maps that would show the village in its entirety. He pulled out a brown book and opened up to the page that had maps of all the villages in the northern parts of England. The title 'Cheshire' popped up on the page and the town of Barnton was displayed on the left side of the district. He quickly scouted for a Treaton Street and found it lining the side of the page, stretching about two centimetres before meeting different streets on either side.

Satisfied with his find, Fred went to shut the book and start taking it back to the table for Blair and George to see. But he stopped when he saw the slightest of movement through the shelves of the case to his right. To appear as natural as possible, he moved his gaze to the shadow that he could see peering through the shelf level to his tall shoulder. Someone was watching him and he didn't think it was a curious Muggle.

Stepping back to where he pulled the book from its shelf, Fred opened up to the page he had seen Treaton Street on. Disrespectful as it was, Fred carefully ripped the page out of the book. He cringed when the noise of paper tearing filled the quiet library and sighed in relief when he saw that the nosy librarian hadn't appeared to beat him for dismembering the precious literature. Sighing in relief once the paper was folded and in his pocket, Fred quickly pulled out his wand with a cautious glance over his shoulder and towards the person who was observing him from the other side of the bookcase. He thanked George for teaching him nonverbal magic and tapped the page that still sat in the book, displaying the map of Liverpool. The words and streets began to rearrange and form the title 'Cheshire'. Only the street names and formation of the village was completely different to the one that sat in Fred's pocket.

"The police got involved and everything," Blair mumbled as she read over the page for a second time. It was the first time she had seen her mother and she couldn't stop looking over everything the article had to say. Jesse's neighbours said she was an incredibly reserved woman and often had unpleasant visits from a dark haired man. This had to have been her father who returned to use his potions and not to see his pregnant girlfriend. Nothing said that she was married, adding to Blair's suspicion of their relationship meaning near nothing to her father. It made her sad to think that her mother had been purposely targeted for her blood status and used to create a child that You Know Who would want in his army. She must have been lonely in that house.

"You look like her," George commented softly. Blair pulled her gaze off of the page and looked to see him looking at her with a soft smile. His head sat slightly to the right from the balance of his one ear but his eyes were filled with warmth and admiration. She felt her face heat at his stare.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. You have the same eyes and nose."

"I bet my father had dark hair and pale ski-"

"We need to go," Fred appeared and rushed over to the table. "Right now."

"What's wrong?" Blair questioned in confusion. He continuously looked over shoulder and saw the back of someone heading down the aisle he had just emerged from. This would give them time to leave.

"I'll tell you later. Let's get out of here first," he grabbed Blair's arm and pulled her up from the table, sending his twin a panicked look. A crease formed in the middle of George's forehead and he stood from the table also, shutting the book that sat open on the top. For good measure, he put it under the pile that sat at the each of the table before following his brother and fiancé that rushed out the room.

They left the library and Fred led the way through the streets. He let Blair's arm go once George had caught up to stand beside her, keeping her sandwiched between them. His rushed and panicky behaviour made Blair nervous and she looked over her shoulder to see if she could see what made him like this, only to feel George pushing her to the right. Fred headed into an alley and George made sure Blair was heading the right way, the three stopping when Fred turned around and faced them.

"We're being followed," he stated.

"What?!" Blair exclaimed.

"Someone was watching me in the library," Fred rushed as he pulled out his wand once more, thinking of the hotel so they could apparate safely. "They must have been looking for a map too."

"Did you see who it was?" George questioned, taking hold of Fred's arm and Blair's hand.

"No. But I'd say it was Potts."

---

George suggested that they'd wait a few days before they try to seek out the house on Treaton Street. If it was Potts that was watching Fred in the library, he'd be waiting for them to make their next move. The longer they deferred it, the more likely he'll get bored and wonder off to search for the house himself. Fred's quick thinking to jumble up the maps he had taken the real page out of will throw him off long enough for them to hopefully get a head start to the real house. You Know Who probably didn't know that Potts was near incompetent in being subtle and sneaky when around other magic folk. With Muggles, it was easy. With two pranksters and a talented witch, not so much.

"It's about a thirty minute walk," Blair stated while looking at the crumpled map that Fred had ripped out of its book. "If I could remember the house, we'd be able to apparate to it. But the pictures gone from my head already."

"We'll walk then," George nodded.

The three left the hotel and started on their journey into Barnton. Ever since the library, Fred kept an eye behind them as they walked to ensure that they weren't being closely followed. But there was no telling whether Fletcher would be looking different from his usual self with the use of Polyjuice Potion. They would need to be quick when reaching the house.

But then there was the issue with what they would do once they got there. They didn't know if someone else was currently living there or if it had been left to rot after Jesse Yaxley's disappearance. If there was a current resident, they had two approaches. One, which was suggested by Fred, was to stun the homeowner and start searching the house for anything that Evan Rosier had left behind. Two, which was pushed heavily by George and Blair, was to explain a brief Muggle version of their mission to the owner and ask to look in their loft for things that had been left. Either would be considered once they found if it was inhabited or not.

"The street should be about here," George stated as he held the creased map in his hands. The three stopped and looked up at the nearest lamppost, seeing the sign 'Treaton Street'.

"Do you think you would recognise it if you saw it?" Fred questioned while looking down at Blair.

"Maybe. We rushed out of the library before I could take another look at it," she answered truthfully.

Going on Blair's vague memory of the house, they walked along the path of the Muggle street. It had classic British houses with small drive ways. You wouldn't suspect that a murder had happened nearly twenty years ago in one of these very houses. The neighbours thought a sudden disappearance had been the only event in the house nearby, but it had been so much more than that. They didn't consider the life that the child who had been admitted to an orphanage would then live.

"This is it," Blair blurted when she caught sight of the familiar house. It sat around the middle of the street and looked exactly how it did in the newspaper article. But this time, it had a car in the drive way.

"Damn it. Whelp, let's head in," Fred pulled out his wand and started heading for the door, only to have George pull him back by the hood of his jumper.

"We're not stunning the Muggles that live here," he rolled his eyes. "It's up to Blair now."

Blair was barely listening as she stared up at the house. Of course she couldn't possibly remember the interior or any memories that would associate with the home, but something inside her was intrigued with it. This house was where her life started. Her mother was killed here and she was officially considered an orphan at this very place. This was where it all started, yet it was so normal and Muggle-like. Someone else was even living in it; unaware that something they wouldn't be able to comprehend had happened here.

Taking a deep breath, Blair headed up to the porch with George and Fred close behind.