A/N: This fic is set before the War, when Kingsley and Tonks are working as Aurors. This is kinda a kid!fic where Kingsley takes a kid into his home after rescuing him.

Disclaimer: No, I'm not JK Rowling.

"Open the door or we will break it down!" Kingsley and his team of Aurors crowded outside of the door, hoping for a quick surrender from the criminals. They were infamous for kidnapping Metamorphagi and experimenting on them and training them for their own purposes. They called themselves 'The Rescuers' for some ironic reason. Kingsley had been tracking them for about a month until a nine-year-old victim of capture had escaped and told the Ministry of their hideout. It was located in a countryside in France

Kingsley motioned with a nod of his head, and Auror Tonks, her hair a new shade of lilac, blasted the door down with a flick of her wand and a shout: "Reducto!" Even though she was personally involved in the case, Kingsley had managed to convince the Ministry of Magic to allow her on this case. She was one of his best. They stepped over the ashes of the door, Kingsley and Tonks first.

There were supposed to be five Rescuers. Three of them Kingsley saw almost immediately, their wands raised to shout as one, "Avada Kedavra!" The green curses smashed into nothingness as all seven of his Aurors Apparated on the spot. They knew better than to stay in one spot during a battle. Kingsley took on a green-eyed, pale man who laughed through the entire battle. He quickly defeated him, being the most renowned Auror of his time. He moved onto face an aggressive fighter, a woman he knew to be named Paxton from the files. Wearing pink robes, she nearly knocked him off his feet with a sudden Blasting Curse, but Kingsley quickly retaliated with a few Body-Binding Curse and a quick, nonverbal Stunning Spell.

Once all three Rescuers had been subdued, Kingsley recognized that a few of his Aurors had already started to look for the children. He put an Anti-Apparition Charm on the house so that the others could not escape, and wards in every room. Kingsley crept into what looked to be the kitchen, following the other Aurors. Tonks continued to lead the pack. At first, they found nothing but bare rooms with no furniture, but Tonks cleverly located a huge Undetectable Extension Charm used on a trunk under a bed stripped of its sheets. She growled, "Accio trunk," and it slid into the center of the room. "I'll go first," she told them.

Kingsley grabbed her arm before she could step inside. "Tonks," he said.

She bristled. "Don't coddle me, Shacklebolt. I can do this."

"I know," he replied, still holding onto her. "It's just I know how hard this must be for you. I don't want you going in there and jeapordizing the entire mission with—"

"With my womanly feelings?" she hissed back. She ripped her arm out of his grasp. "Yeah, I know. Leave me be. I can do this."

"I'm not targeting you, Tonks. I just want to know, are you sure you're okay?" She looked back at him. "You're scaring me."

She nodded professionally, her chin tipped up. "Fine." Her body turned to him this time. Her stare was pure flame, and her hair... "I just—I just need to beat them, Shacklebolt. Let me do this." Finally, he nodded. "I'll give you green sparks if it's clear." That was the usual sign, but they all liked it make it clear beforehand. She opened the trunk and, taking a breath, hopped inside. There were a few bangs and shouts from inside that made Kingsley want to launch himself inside before Tonks sent up green sparks. Then, Auror Kress went first, followed by Kingsley and the rest.

What Kingsley found next shocked him. They were cold, dark grey rooms, much like a dungeon, with cells and all. Each cell (and there were about thirty of them) held a child. "Don't be afraid," announced Tonks, her hair turning a strange but knowing mixture of red and white. It meant she felt just as...horrified as he did. "We are Aurors. Your captors are gone. We are here to rescue you." Each of the children shivered and shrieked at the word 'rescue', so Tonks quickly restated. "We are here to save you. They are not coming back and they are not going to harm you again."

"Spread out and open the cells one by one," ordered Kingsley. "Check the children for fatal injuries and treat those first. Anyone who is well enough to Apparate, give them to Kress. Anyone not well enough, stabilize them and go to the fireplace in the front room."

The Aurors nodded and moved, Auror Kress lingering behind to wait for well children.

Kingsley found the first child cowering in the corner of his cell, soaked in blood and shivering. There was no natural light in the cell, for it was bathed in darkness. His eyes were huge and dark brown, staring continuously at some spot behind him. At first, Kingsley thought that the boy was wearing a red shirt until he realized that the 'red shirt' was nothing but layers of blood. The Auror shivered. "Son?" He waved his hands in front of the boy's face. He seemed to be frozen in his spot, his entire body tensed up. Kingsley, even after all his years of experience in the area of search and rescue, felt the need to vomit.

"Hey, can you hear me?" After another lack of response, he took another look at the boy. He was small, seeming to be of Arabic descent, with injuries all over him. He was probably six years old, possibly younger, with a mop of bright pink hair that made him an obvious Metamorphagus. Kingsley moved forward to touch the boy, but he flinched so violently that he thought it would not be a good idea. In order to check his brain function, the Auror flashed a nonverbal Lumos in front of the boy's face. His eyes seemed fine, and he couldn't spot the source of the blood covering him. The boy was dressed in only a small, dark pair of shorts, which were shabby, dirty, and stunk of urine and feces. There were bruises scattered across the child's face, bare chest, back, and arms, and small cuts as well. Evidence of the Fire-Making Curse, or Incendio, was visible all over his hands in the form of dead nerves, blisters, and patches of bright red skin. His legs, particularly his right one, were badly swollen. Kingsley was afraid that they might be broken. "Son, are you... are you hurt?"

No response.

"Son, I can't help you unless you speak to me. Are you hurt? Just let me check—" He tried to touch the boy again, but he jerked away from his touch as if it burned. Kingsley signed, not in exasperation but in total sympathy. His throat clenched. He wanted to help this child, but he was not allowing him to even touch him. Sitting down with the boy, Kingsley attempted a different approach. "Son, would you like some chocolate? I have some in my pocket here. We can get more if you come with me." He supposed he sounded like many of the criminals he'd met, but he said it anyway. He was not trying to hurt this child. The boy looked extremely skinny. Had the so-called 'Rescuers' even fed their victims? His wiry ribs portruded through his small torso, and his stomach was slightly bloated, meaning that he had been starved for a while.

Finally, the child glanced up at Kingsley with his big, beautiful eyes, looking so broken. Even now, he wasn't truly meeting his eyes, but this was a start. "Choc," said the boy. At first, Kingsley didn't even recognize the word because his voice was so unused. His tongue licked his bleeding, chapped lips. "Choc-o-late," he croaked.

Kingsley, ecstatic that he had finally reached the child, pulled the chocolate bar out of his pocket and slid it across the blood-streaked floor to the him. After pulling his burned, trembling hands to his chest in fear, the boy reached out and snatched it from the ground. He began to chew the chocolate without opening it, trying to eat it through the packaging. His teeth, about four of which were missed, chomped vainly on the plastic. Heartbroken, Kinglsey asked himself, How long had this boy been in captivity? "Son, you have to unwrap it."

The boy, puzzled, humiliated, and frightened, weakly tossed the chocolate bar back at Kingsley, and then cowered, covering his head with his arms. Kingsley unwrapped the chocolate bar and handed it back to the boy. The small child refused to take it until the Auror had left it on the ground and was not touching it anymore. Then he snatched it up and tore into it like an animal, eating it faster than anyone Kingsley had ever seen. Kingsley wished he had more on him, but that was all. "Son, can you come with me? It's okay. I'm not going to" —the boy scooted back into his corner, practically gnawing on his fingers for the remnants of the chocolate— "hurt you."

"More," the boy rasped. He looked guilty for asking. How sad it was that someone so perfectly innocent felt so incredibly guilty for even feeling hungry. The child looked guilty for about everything, in fact. The shame was written all over his face. After the word passed over his lips, he spun around, letting out a little whimper at the pain it caused his leg and buried his head into the cold corner where the walls met. His arms dragged at his sides, and one of his hands looked particularly bad, covered in burns.. Kingsley guessed that the child could not even feel it. That must've been why he looked so awkward holding the chocolate. The boy squeezed his body into the corner, exposing his bloodied back, as well as his extremely pronounced spine, ribs, and hips. This child... He was a skeleton.

"Shacklebolt," he heard an Auror hiss from behind him. The boy shuddered and whimpered at the sound. "Shacklebolt, what's taking you so long? We've already got most of the kids. Get that one and let's go."

"He wouldn't let me touch him."

"Just knock him out and bring him. Come on."

Kingsley shook his head. "Go without me." I'm not going to put this boy through anything bad after all he has experienced. I'm not going to break his trust. He turned back to the boy, whose hands were pressed against the walls now; one was limp, and the other weak. The skin of his back was torn and sliced, as if... Kingsley gasped. He had been whipped. "Son" —a flinch from the boy— "I can get you somewhere you can be healed. We can fix your" —Kingsley's throat clenched painfully, cutting off his words— "injuries. You will be safe there." He was just a boy. He was just a baby. How could... How could... Kingsley gritted his teeth. It was things like this... This was why he was an Auror.

The child only focused on one word that he said. "Saff?" he whispered. "S-s—" He interrupted himself with a sound like a cry of pain, and he quickly lowered his head down, out of sight. "Safe."

"Yes," he assured, reaching out his hand, palm up. "Safe."

The boy took a full three minutes to make his next move. He slowly turned around, ducking under Kingsley's gaze. "Safe," he whispered, and then he took Kingsley's hand.

A/N: Thanks for reading! More soon.

Challenges used:

Fanfiction Writing Month: December []

Are You Crazy - #140 (lilac)

If You Dare - #60 (natural light)

Character Diversity - #46 (wiry), Kingsley Shacklebolt