(DIDN'T) START THE FIRE

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Kuroshitsuji or its characters, but this story is mine /evil grin/.

Summary: He was tortured by the Dark side. The Light side betrayed him. Now he's back, but not alone. Watch out, Wizarding World, because two butlers from Hell are pissed.

Shout Out: Well, hell. This is my Christmas gift to y'all - you should worship MHB for editing it, because she had troubles with router on her side, and so the belated update of this story. As for the other stories, I am preparing a present, but when it will be out, it will be a secret for now. Merry Christmas, guys and gals, and thank you for your support once again.

Warnings: Antares is out and causing hell. Our beloved butlers also have a hand in some of the mayhem...and Ministry's stupidity. /rolls eyes/ Go on, read it.

Dictionary: Atrum Regina (Latin) - Black Queen

We didn't start the fire
It was always burning
Since the world's been turning
We didn't start the fire
No we didn't light it
But we tried to fight it

('We Didn't Start the Fire', by Billy Joel)

The news of Sirius Black having a son detonated in the Order of the Phoenix like a bomb. Although it was a funny sight, watching Snape screw his face into something like shock, mixed with horror and resigned despair, it also meant that somewhere out there was potential Black Heir and another player in the war. Sirius, of course, protested, but the fact was, Antares was a target anyway - if not by his parentage, then by him being a Carruthers. Carruthers' family was one for the strongest Neutral families, and if it weren't for…. Berenice's…unfortunate state, they would held a sizable power in the Wizengamot. However, with Berenice having been disgraced as it were, the Carruthers lost their seat, as their line was primarily patriarchal, and the stubborn girl refused to marry, even if that would have saved her name, politically and socially speaking. After that… sixth year, they didn't hear of her - it was as if she had vanished from the Wizarding World, and nobody could find her… not that they tried hard.

But now, with Antares, the Carruthers line was once again live which meant that neutral side would gain a strong supporter, if the dark side didn't snatch him first. And with Antares being a Carruthers, there was a possibility that whoever got to him first, would also have the neutrals on his side- not all of them, but some. And in the war which the Light side was steadily losing, the Order desperately needed some new blood in their ranks.

However, the problem was, no one knew just where the boy lived or even what he looked like. For all they knew, the boy could have been schooled at Salem or Durmstrang - his name definitely wasn't on the list of Hogwarts' prospective students. And knowing Berenice's…. magical prowess, her son was bound to be one heck of a wizard. Berenice wasn't known as the Atrum Regina of Ravenclaw for nothing. If one Lily Evans was a Princess of Light, a good scholar and unbeatable in Charms, then it was an undisputable truth that one Berenice Carruthers was unparalleled in Runes and Arithmancy - if she hadn't chosen to withdraw from Hogwarts, there was no doubt that she would have been one of the highest decorated students in Hogwarts' history, the second coming of Rowena Ravenclaw herself. Sadly, Sirius' fooling around had ruined her future and cost the Wizarding World one of their best and brightest minds.

However, now they had a chance at redemption in the shape of her son. What remained was just how to catch him and convince him to join their cause.

And much to their dismay, the time was a-ticking.

Antares Carruthers looked around the lounge of the Gringott's bank uncaringly, his disinterest not showing on his face. With his memories, he would have thought he would have some emotions about the place, but it wasn't so. The Occlumency shields and meditation techniques Sistina had taught him were working well, even if they were one of the hardest things to learn what with his fractured mind and the curse still clawing through him. At least he had some peace from the Dark Bastard himself. He disregarded the stares and whispers of the people about his person - apparently It wasn't an everyday occurrence for them to see a Muggle-dressed teenager with two human servants accompanying his person - it didn't help that the two butlers were dressed in their uniforms and with their…. grace and handsome features, they were bound to attract at least some attention.

The boy the two butlers were safeguarding was clad in black trousers with polished black leather shoes that were obviously high-quality with a deep gray silk shirt with the ascot of a lighter gray and a small diamond and silver pin around his neck that was in stark contrast with dark blue jacket made from interwoven leather threads. His hands were encased in dark gray leather gloves and he was leaning against a black walking stick with silver eagle's head. The youth's dark hair was let loose to brush the shoulders. However, what interested the witnesses the most was the boy's face. Or rather the black velvet eye patch covering the right eye, while the other was staring at the world in cold, dull green color. Not many people dared to look at the youth's single eye longer that was necessary - it made them shudder with some unpleasant feeling they couldn't name.

"Next!" The goblin barked out with a scratchy voice, his face snarling a little. "Young Master, we are next." The bespectacled man muttered to the teen, receiving a stiff nod in return as the boy turned around and approached the counter.

Snarltooth eyed the teen crankily. "So what do you want?" He demanded, his voice grumpy and fed up sounding, making the two butlers narrow their eyes at him. The teen didn't flinch or get irritated. Green eye stared straight at him. "Check the vault number 862 and take some money." The youth replied, his voice hoarse and hissy as if someone had strangled him in the past and his throat still hadn't recovered completely. Dark eyes narrowed.

"The key?" Snarltooth snapped, baring his teeth in an unpleasant snarl. Wordlessly, if a little slowly, the youth gave him an ornately decorated key, making the goblin sniff with disdain at the perceived slowness. However, his disdain slowly changed into a taken-aback interest.

"Your name?" he barked out as he looked from the key to the youth's unreadable face. The boy stared back emotionlessly. "Antares Carruthers."

Just for a teeny tiny moment, Snarltooth allowed himself to be surprised, before he gave the teen a curt nod. "All in order. Griphook! Lead them to the Vault number 862!" With that said, he impatiently motioned the three Wizards forward, leaving the mystery of the new Carruthers' Heir for a later time to mull about.

Antares sighed, closing his eye for a moment, before opened it again, following the impatient little creature to the carts. "Are you feeling alright, Young Master?" Sebastian asked him quietly, mocha-colored eyes concerned. Antares glared at him briefly before turning his head back to the goblin. "Don't ask such stupid questions." He snapped back. "Let's get that over and done with." Mocha colored eyes widened for a moment before the kuroshitsuji once again donned his pleasant smile. "I am just concerned, Young Master. You know your health is not up to par yet." He muttered back, making Antares growl at him soundlessly. Even if it was true, Antares really didn't want to be reminded of this particular… weakness of his. As if were, even with the extensive therapy done, he was still limited by his body's needs and constraints.

Half an hour and a queasy feeling Antares later, they concluded the business with Gringotts, much to Sebastian's dismay and Claude's relief. Antares had been so very fun to tease, but Sebastian didn't doubt that Antares would get him back…in spades.

"Where would you like to go next, Young Master?" Claude asked discreetly as he looked at the pale boy. Dark brows furrowed minutely as the youth pondered for a minute what to do next. "Let's go to Florian Fortescue's. I would like a cup of tea and black forest cake," Antares murmured, stilling Sebastian for a moment.

"Is my cooking not to your liking, Young Master?" Sebastian offered silkily, as he tilted his head minutely, making some women in his proximity blush at the innocently provocative image he displayed.

Green eye looked at him dismissively. "I got tired of it, yes." Antares quipped back, making Sebastian almost pout and Claude have to repress a satisfied smirk that was threatening to show on his lips.

"That was not very nice, Young Master," Sebastian demurred back, the edges of mocha colored eyes narrowed a bit, but on the outside, he was a picture of propriety as always.

"You could always resign." Antares countered back, making the black butler's mouth snap shut and Claude cough discreetly in his gloved hand. "Please do," he murmured to his crow colleague dryly, prompting a small, sullen glare from the subject of his teasing.

The trio definitely cut a strange sight as they advanced across the Diagon Alley - two tall men, clad in Muggle's butler uniforms accompanying a pale looking teen whose clothes were a strange mixture of old and modern Muggle clothes. Although most of the spectators were eyeing the youth rather disgustedly for his choice of the clothes, they couldn't help but to admit the mixture was strangely appealing… even if it did out the boy as not one of them. It didn't help that the youth's two…. companions were also model material, and making them wonder if there really existed something like Dark Veelas. The two men were certainly handsome enough to merit that thought.

The trio advanced in a sedate pace to their destination, when the hustle and bustle of the Alley was interrupted by the figures, clad in black and with silver masks hiding their faces.

They just… appeared and begun to cause a chaos.

"Death Eaters!" Some woman screeched in fear, as she tried to get away, shielding her purchases to her anxiously, almost tripping on her robes.

The high pitched cackling didn't reassure the bystanders much, nor did the triumphant howl of a wolf.

If Bellatrix Lestrange and Greyback were there….

Oh shit.

The shopping windows were shattered, books torn and potion ingredients spilled up and about, and there was a scared boy crying, calling for his Daddy, but in the chaos, nobody took notice of him…at least not much.

Sebastian flinched as another Bombarda Maxima detonated a mite too loud for his tastes. Claude just calmly yanked their Master away from the oncoming sickly green spell- and good thing that he did, as the supposedly harmless light hit the old man, he crumpled on the ground, screaming in aabsolute agony as all of his bones had begun twisting unnaturally and both demons clearly heard the creaking sound of them breaking.

Antares' slender eyebrow twitched, but otherwise, he didn't bother with the suffering people around him.

"Young Master?" Claude called to him as he casually sidestepped the falling rubble - and not a moment too soon, either.

A green eye looked at him in askance. Claude sighed. As much as he liked Antares'…. character, he would like to have his orders more, thank you very much!

"Daddy!" The five-year old screeched again, his dark hair mussed and eyes wide with panic. The fire had exploded in the Menagerie, prompting the animals to screech, hoot and generally cause a ruckus in an attempt to somehow get away from the hungry flames.

And then, there was a shadow above the boy, a wild one, with sharp canines there and demented yellowed grin - it was a man with gray, unkempt hair and clawed hands and feet. His wild murky brown eyes shone with a maniacal light as he reached for the boy –

BANG!

The sound echoed through the alley, freezing their occupants momentarily. All eyes searched for the origin, finding it in a weirdly clothed youth that still held some kind of an L-shaped wand that emitted the sound. The wild man emitted a pained howl as he had been pushed away from the juicy looking boy by the sheer force of the impact that made him hunch into himself in an attempt to soothe the pain and stop the bleeding - at least for a while.

"You! I will feast on your fucking carcass, I swear upon Selene!" He screamed at the green-eyed youth, baring his teeth in a challenge.

However, the brat just stared at him, and offering him a cold smirk, thus enraging the wolf man even further.

"You're welcome to try." One of the brat's guardians called to him mockingly.

"Michaelis. Faustus. " Antares called to his two butlers quietly.

Both of the demons tensed in the anticipation of the order.

And order it was.

"No quarter."

The two butlers exploded into action - dark-clothed dervishes of death that used…. Cutlery?

Sebastian smirked as he swiftly cut the man's carotid artery, and then casually throwing a pair of forks at the next attacker, stopping him in the middle of the assault quite nicely, if he dared to say so.

There was a furious feminine shriek from the previously cackling woman which had apparently lead the assault, making him narrow his eyes and turn in the search of his new prey.

However, it seemed that Claude was faster. The bespectacled spider butler smirked as he released the golden cutlery, targeting specific points that made woman scream in agony upon the impact - and before he could get to her to inflict even more pain on her, she called out something… and vanished, making him growl with unhappiness.

Meanwhile, Antares wasn't idle either. While he could be perceived as a stationery target and as such easy to take down, his bullets were a very good deterrent to those foolish enough to try as such.

The Death Eaters, seeing their leaders had hightailed out, tried to do the same, and they were mostly successful in their endeavor….Successful in a sense that they lacked an arm or leg or were shot in places that would take a rather long time to heal. The crowd was still confused and lost on the happenings, divided on hailing the trio or getting the hell away from them.

Antares inhaled a shaky breath. Just five minutes more, and he would have been a goner. Even with the gun being charmed to from the butt to the barrel with a heap of charms that would enable the owner's comfort, his body was still not up the par with wielding it for longer than ten minutes. Add the uninterrupted shooting, and his body was ready to declare a revolt on him.

His muscles hurt. Heck, his bones hurt, as if they had been especially unpleasantly jarred - the recoil of his Glock 26 was usually nothing to write home about, but for his hands, when he had to shoot for a longer time, it was torture. He dearly wanted to hide from all the inquiring gazes and whispers, but he steeled himself and straightened out.

What he wouldn't have given for a comfortable bed and painkillers right now…

He felt Claude standing behind him, and Sebastian was approaching him with the nonchalant elegance of someone who just know he was superior to all the rabble on the streets. Usually, that would make Antares irritated, but right now, he didn't care about that kind of petty emotion.

"Young Master?" Claude murmured into his charge's ear delicately. "Do you wish to proceed?" He saw Antares was on the verge of collapsing, but as usual, the stubborn youth would decline his help, even if he had all the legitimate reasons to have it. It made Claude simultaneously irked and concerned. Had Antares no self - preservation instincts in that messy-haired head of his?

Apparently not, if Sebastian's discreet support of their stubborn young master was any indication. Antares nodded mutely, exhaling slowly at the time, as he tried to ignore the stares and whispers.

And then, the well-known cracks announced the arrival of the Salvation Army - oops, wrong moniker. Rather, there were men in red coats with black piping, known as Aurors.

Some people went to do their duties, but most of them was still standing wherever they were at the moment, be it because they were incapacitated or just curious just what would the hapless excuse for a wizarding police do now.

Despite of his involvement, Antares just wasn't interested in playing good doggy for the two-legged snails in human guise.

"Halt!" A pompous voice called. "Hey you, Muggle with two pets! I am talking to you!"

The spectators waited with a baited breath.

All of them had seen what the boy and his …companions could do if provoked, and the fool had called him out so rudely…

The boy stopped. A single eye looked at the approaching Aurors coldly, involuntarily prompting them to almost let him go, but their leader stubbornly forged onward.

"One would hope you lot were reared to know manners." The boy muttered back as both of his… pets… flanked him.

The stocky Auror flushed with anger, but reined in his impulse. Instead of that, he puffed his chest out and glared back.

"Just what in Merlin's name did you do here?" he barked out, watery gray eyes narrowing disdainfully. "Scaring innocent Wizarding folk like that – "

"Use your eyeballs, if you would please, Auror." The boy snapped back, his voice low and scratchy, making the crowd titter nervously at his choice of words. The mocha-eyed …pet of the boy coughed politely. "Ahem. Forgive my Master, he is still recuperating from his illness. What happened was that some very… disturbing elements of society invaded the Alley, and began attacking people, along with destroying public property. My master intended to avoid the skirmishes, however he was attacked and so he was forced to retaliate." The crowd listening to the man's speech murmured with agreement, flustering the Auror.

"Still! He killed them - and he is not authorized for – " The man blustered onward only for the boy to interrupt him.

"Since when do I need to ask the Ministry for a license to kill when my life is in mortal danger? Did you think I had a time to say to the attacker, which, by the way had intention to kill me by any means necessary, 'Excuse me, but for using lethal force to retaliate, I have to go to the Ministry for a license- would you be so kind and wait here for me for a sec?' " The crowd gasped and murmured with indignation. "I. Think. Not." The boy bit out as he stepped forward - only one step, but it still forced the Auror to back away for the obviously pissed off youth. "And while we are at the subject of Ministry, just where were the Aurors when Diagon Alley was invaded, and its occupants in mortal danger?"

"Now, see here – " The Auror tried to get out of the proverbial trap he had gotten himself into, but the glares and the murmurs of the crowd didn't seem to be inclined to allow him that little respite. "Mister saved me!" A small boy who had been rescued, piped up, glaring at the cringing man cutely. " Where were you?"

The kid's question was the trigger that snowballed the crowd's frustration from the simmering tension to low grumbling that became louder and louder by the moment.

"Yeah. Where were ya? Ya were to protect us!" An older woman yelled out, her voice laden with bitterness.

The crowd agreed.

"While ye were sittin' on yer fat arses, Mister had protected us!"

"Yea!"

"And you dare to arrest him! Dragon pox on you, you useless lot should have been thrown to Dementors!" A man with amputated arm roared at them, his face pale with the loss of blood.

The Aurors cringed together as the crowd roared in approval.

"Enough!" Another Auror managed to shout out, blue eyes blazing with anger. " We came as soon as we got the notice – "

"What, half an hour later? Ye gads, if that's how much it takes for you to get to Diagon which is merely ten minutes from the Ministry, I dread to see how long it would have taken you if there had been an attack in Cornwall!" Another man, this time an older one spat out. His hair was white and cropped in a short hairdo, and he was clothed in somber brown and gray colors.

BANG!

The crowd flinched at the sharp sound, and some of the women even shrieked a little.

All the attention was once again on the slender black-haired, one eyed teen.

Sharp green and blue eyes looked from one to another face in the crowd, making them flinch or shuffle.

"You behave like a bunch of spoiled children." The boy spoke out, his voice cold and detached. "All of you had wands. All of you could have retaliated against them, but no, you decided to panic and wait for a savior. Well…." He gulped as he closed his eyes, leaning on his cane. "Newsflash for you: the savior doesn't exist."

The crowd's gasps and outraged murmurs mollified the Aurors into relaxing a little, and their leader even puffed out his chest a bit.

"But you saved me, mister!" The boy called out, his voice hurt and confused.

"Because you couldn't save yourself. " The one-eyed teen replied to him, making him flinch. "No parent deserves to see their child to die in front of their eyes. "

"An' you saved them too!" The boy persisted stubbornly, his lower lip jutting out a little in a small pout as his brown eyes glared at the youth with a stubborn faith only the kids could have.

"There won't be a next time." The savior's answer chilled the spectators somehow, making the boy flinch back.

The Muggle boy - and wasn't that a strange thought, that a Muggle boy rescued them - tipped his chin to his two pets and turned around.

"Um… Excuse me, but who are you?" One brave Auror asked timidly almost flinching back from the glare in the single eye.

The youth tipped his head slightly. "Antares Carruthers."

And then, he turned around, his pets faithfully by his side and walking away, with the crowd parting before them like Red Sea.

They watched him go, a frail teen who was still obviously sick, and yet, he had managed to save them from the Death Eaters…and they felt shame.

Not that it kept them for starting rumors, of course.

"Carruthers? You don't mean…." One man muttered thoughtfully.

"But it was said the family was dead, after the stint of that daughter of theirs…." Another person mumbled.

"Ya, bu if ya look at the lad, he has Berenice's cheekbones – "

" - the gall of the brat, returning after Carruthers' chit disgraced their good name…."

"But he's a Muggle, you saw his clothes – "

Someone snorted. "If he's really her son? Doubt it. Shut it Mike, ya know I am right."

The crowd slowly dispersed to their ends, and the day was continuing as usual…

However, the seemingly calm façade couldn't cover the beginning of the restlessness and distrust which had, with that one sentence, been planted in the back of their minds.

"There won't be a next time."

Meanwhile, one of the Aurors hurriedly Apparated away, her pink locks fluttering in the wind.

After all, the Black Heir was finally found.

And at the dark corner, one small rat cleaned its whiskers nervously, before scampering away in the dingy alley.

/To Be Continued/