Chapter 20: Incendio

Kingsley has never really considered how important faces were to knowing a person. Yes, names were, arguably, as important…but a name could not tell you how old a person was, their emotions, their history. No name could tell you any of that…at least, not without a face that was connected to it.

This was the issue that the auror had run into with the Dark Servant. He had the boy's name, but it did not give him any other information about the teenager. In all of his years in the Ministry, Kingsley had only ever set eyes on You-know-who once. The man's sharp, handsome features and calculating look in his black eyes had stayed crystal clear in his memory ever since…and the auror wanted to know if the man had passed any of these looks on to his son. For some reason, his brain felt that this would help him to judge if Harry was truly as evil as he seemed.

It was irritating Kingsley more than he cared to admit, that they had, as of yet, been unable to remove the teenager's mask. The cold, green eyes that peeked out from underneath did little to tell him what the boy actually looked like. In the auror's mind, Harry would remain an unknown entity, an unknown child, until he could set eyes on the face that lay beneath the mask. And it looked like, at this point, it would not be coming off any time soon.

This was a reason why he hadn't bothered to call in any backup yet. He wanted time to try and figure out the Dark Servant before handing him over for his inevitable interrogation.

But then Black had gone and messed that all up. Not to mention that he had summoned the two worst aurors possible. This fact was being made ever clearer by the furious looks on both Moody and Dawlish's faces. The more people who knew about Harry, the more complicated and violent things were bound to become.

Kingsley watched carefully as Dawlish strode over toward the teen. He trusted the man more than Moody, but seeing a wanted killer this close would be enough to make any auror lash out. Merlin, even he had been tempted to.

"What do you want?"

Harry's voice was as harsh and cold as his gaze. Kingsley was sure the boy was scowling ferociously under the mask.

"Oh, how I've waited for this day. You are going to make me a very wealthy man."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow. That wasn't at all what he'd expected Dawlish to say. Kingsley opened his mouth to try and salvage the situation before his fellow auror said something else he shouldn't. But before he could get even a single word out, a sudden movement from Dumbledore caught his attention. The man had reached into his robes and drawn his wand, pointing it directly at the young teen. Kingsley couldn't even begin to wonder why before a loud crackle seemed to suddenly electrify the air and a split second later there was a deafening boom.

Kingsley had no time to react as a blast of magic crashed into him like a tidal wave. The auror was instantly swept off of his feet, hitting the opposite wall a second later and landing on the floor with a thud that seemed to shake every bone in his body.

The ringing in his ears and greyed vision were all that Kingsley could focus on for a brief second, but that didn't last long. His sight was the first thing to clear up. The auror looked around and saw that beside him, in similar conditions were Moody and Dawlish. Black seemed to have already recovered from the blast and was standing nearby, wand drawn.

"-e's dangerous, Dumbledore. We need to stun him before he does any more magic."

Kingsley flinched at Sirius's loud voice but quickly pushed away the painful headache brewing in his skull. He'd have time to worry about it later.

"No, Sirius," it was Dumbledore who spoke, "Stunning him will only make the situation worse. It's accidental magic. He can't control it and knocking him out won't stop it."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!"

Harry's voice cut through the air like a sharp knife. Kingsley felt a surge of fear flash through him and he stumbled to his feet, drawing his wand. He wasn't sure if he was more worried for his own safety or for the teen's well-being.

"Listen here, you shit" Black spat, ignoring Kingsley completely, "You just attacked and tried to kill several top ministry aurors. You have no say in what we can and can't say about you."

Now that he was on his feet, Kingsley was able to fully see the effects of the blast of accidental magic. Portraits were hanging lopsidedly on the walls and armchairs and other furniture were toppled over or cracked. At last, the auror laid eyes on the culprit. Harry had gotten free from his bonds and was now crouched in the far corner of the room, a wild look in his eyes. All around the teenager was a ring of black where his magic had burst out, scorching the ornate rug.

And there was Albus Dumbledore, standing just a few paces from the dark servant. His wand out…ready.

"Albus," Kingsley said, his voice low, already sensing the precarious situation that they were in.

Accidental magic, especially that which was fed by dark magic, was powerful, even in the very smallest of amounts. Kingsley knew that Dumbledore was the strongest wizard alive, but he didn't want to have to see the teen get hurt or even killed before he had even been able to see his face.

Off to his left side, Dawlish and Moody had also risen to their feet. Dawlish was sporting a long, bleeding gash across his forehead, but didn't seem to have any other last injuries. Kingsley wasn't sure if he was grateful for this or disappointed. Hot-tempered aurors tended to let their anger loose when provoked.

"I'm gonna kill him," Kingsley heard Moody growl, "I swear to Merlin, I'm gonna kill him."

The auror turned to his companion and hissed,

"Relax, Moody, or I'll be forced to stun you. Dumbledore has it handled. Now stand down."

Kingsley was slightly pleased to see that his words still held some power, as the one-eyed man grumbled something, slowly lowering his wand.

"I thought you said that he didn't have his magic back yet," Dawlish hissed, clearly pissed by the unfavourable change of events…and having been caught off guard by the magical outburst.

Kingsley didn't have time to think of an answer before another pulse of magic seemed to erupt from Harry. This time, however, everyone was prepared.

Kingsley conjured a powerful shield in front of him as he watched black waves of magic explode out from the teenager who was still crouched in the corner. The black magic hit each wizard's shield with a sharp crack. Yet, this blast seemed significantly weaker than the last one, the auror noted.

Harry was quickly running out of magic.

"Alright, I've had enough of this nonsense," Moody growled as soon as the last of the outburst had faded.

"Alastor," Kingsley cautioned, "I said that Dumbledore has it handled. The last thing that we need is for you to get involved in a situation that you don't need to get involved in. We have it handled."

"Clearly we don't have it handled or this would've never happened in the first place."

Kingsley wished he could hex Black where he stood. Instead, he turned sharply to the auror, his own anger on the rise.

"Harry," Dumbledore's quiet voice interrupted whatever Black was about to say, which was probably for the better, "I understand that you're scared, but I need you to calm down. You haven't healed enough of your magical core yet. All you're going to do is hurt yourself."

Kingsley watched as the teenager lifted his head to look at the headmaster. The auror felt rather disappointed that the white mask was still firmly in place.

"Like you care if I get hurt or not," Harry spat, "I know better than to trust the likes of you, Dumbledore. Now back off before I give you a taste of what real power looks like."

Beside him, Dawlish chuckled loudly at this comment.

"Listen here, Dark Servant. We both know that no one can control their accidental magic, no matter how much you think you do. So let's just quit the bullshit. The ministry doesn't care what condition we bring you in so I'm going to leave the decision up to you. But, mark my words, I am bringing you in."

The eyes behind the mask narrowed as the teenager visibly tensed. Kingsley sent a pleading look in Dumbledore's direction as his hand tightened around his wand. The situation was quickly getting out of control.

He had no love for the boy, but he was not without compassion. For Merlin's sake, this was just a teenager. The more time he spent around Harry, the more he realised how young he really was…and Kingsley didn't want to have a child's murder on his already burdened conscious.

So if Dumbledore had a plan, the old man had better act now because he was about to lose his only opportunity.

Harry knew he was fucked.

The teen was currently crouched in a corner of the room like a trapped rat, the last remnants of his accidental magic still crackling in the air. The outburst was starting to fade away just as quickly as it had come. If only he had listened to his father and actually learned how to control his protective magic, then he would've at least had a fighting chance. Instead, all he had ended up doing was making his situation worse. He had poked the dragon and now he was about to deal with the consequences.

Harry glared at the auror who had just threatened him. He was disappointed that his magic hadn't been strong enough to kill the man. So, he tried to memorise every last detail of the man's face so that he would be able to track him down and kill him later.

"You can either stand up and surrender to me or I'll stun you and put an end to this whole ridiculous thing."

Harry was starting to like Dawlish less and less the more the man talked. There was something about him that seemed unsettled. He didn't doubt for a second that the auror would stun him on the spot or even do worse damage. But, at the same time, Harry would never even consider just simply surrendering. Both options seemed equally terrible.

"How about neither."

The teen knew that this comment wasn't going to win him any favours with the current crowd, but he couldn't stop himself. Besides, he was quickly running out of options.

Harry saw the curse before he heard it. He instinctively ducked low as the stunner hit the wall directly behind him with a loud crack, raining bits of plaster and burning wallpaper down onto his head. As soon as the danger was past, the young wizard instantly scrambled to his feet not wanting to think about the immense power that had to have been behind that spell.

"What the fuck?" he shouted, looking around the room at the faces of each of the aurors.

"I did give you a choice, didn't I?"

Harry was about to respond when he was distracted by a sudden movement off to his left.

He'd forgotten about Dumbledore.

Fuck.

The teenager balled his hands into fists and turned to face his father's worst enemy, already knowing how things would end. But to his surprise, the elderly wizard simply moved to stand in front of him, effectively blocking him from Dawlish's sight…and the path of any more oncoming spells.

"I do deeply apologise that things have come to this," the man said almost sorrowfully, "But you must understand that you are a highly sought after individual. Even more so now that our friend James has been taken from us. We are all under a great deal of stress."

Harry didn't like the look in Dumbledore's eye. He watched carefully as the wizard stretched out his hand as if to attempt and shake his. Confusion filled the teen. Whatever game that Dumbledore was playing, he didn't want any part of it. All he wanted was to go back to his room in the manor and sleep for a week.

"If you ever want to see Potter alive again then you have to let me go," Harry said trying to calm his rapidly rising fear, "I'll have my father release him as a trade."

He knew that this was a stupid offer, but he didn't know what else to say. Dumbledore's gaze softened for a brief second,

"I'm so sorry, my dear Harry, but I can't do that."

Before Harry could even register what was happening, he felt a strong force collide with his left shoulder. Confused, the teen looked down to see what had just hit him, but he never got that far. Harry's vision suddenly faded to black and he slipped unconscious to the floor, his black cloak spreading out around him like a pool of blood.

There was a heavy silence in the room as everyone tried to understand what had just happened. For his part, Sirius couldn't believe that Dumbledore had actually stunned the teenager. Based on the headmaster's actions, he'd thought that the man had wanted to keep the boy awake until they had reached some kind of deal or gotten information about James.

Maybe he finally realised that that was never going to happen, Sirius thought angrily.

The auror frowned deeply and looked over at the crumpled form on the floor. The hideous white mask was the only visible thing in the sea of black that surrounded the teenager. A sharp prick of irrational rage rolled through him when he saw this. The stupid mask was still on. He had to keep himself from storming over there and ripping it brutally off of the boy's face.

"So, what's your plan now?" Sirius said at long last, the silence growing unbearable, "How exactly are we supposed to get information out of him when he's unconscious? Or did you not think that through?"

The auror knew that this was unfairly harsh toward Dumbledore, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to be kind. All he could think about were the types of horrible torture that James was going through at that exact moment. They needed to act and this wasn't acting.

"Relax, Black," it was Moody who answered him, "This was inevitable. The little shit was clearly not going to give anything up willingly. We'll just use this time to make sure that he's extra motivated to talk when he wakes up."

Sirius didn't know why the thought of the dark servant being tied up and tortured in the same way as James made him uncomfortable. It wasn't that he felt sorry for the teenager. The boy was evil to the bone. That much was obvious. But there was still something…

"You can't just interrogate a minor, Moody," Kingsley's voice was edged in frustration, "We have rules and regulations for a reason."

"But we don't have any protocol about what to do when that minor is the heir of You-know-who. Besides, it isn't like we're going to kill him…yet. Plus we don't even know if he actually is a minor. For all we know, he could already be seventeen."

There was a grumble of agreement from Dawlish who had made his way over to examine the stunned teenager.

"But even if he is a minor," Dawlish said, reaching into his robes for something, "He's a threat and a danger to the wizarding community of Britain. He needs to be somewhere that can effectively contain him. Particularly with his certain affinity for black magic. Honestly, I'm pleased that Dumbledore finally put the kid out of his misery."

"I'm just not sure," Dumbledore said, looking closely at the boy, "I just have a feeling that there's something important about him that we're missing."

"Then we can figure that out after we have James back," Sirius growled, getting more and more impatient with each passing second, "Now how about we contact the ministry and get him ready for transport? Preferably before he wakes up."

No one said a word as Dawlish knelt down and pulled out a set of thin iron handcuffs. The auror roughly grabbed the teen's arms and positioned them behind his back before cuffing them together. Sirius watched, emotionless, as he saw the edges of the metal bite into the boy's skin. He refused to feel anything but anger towards the Dark Servant.

"That'll keep him restrained enough for the time being," the auror said, patting the handcuffs and looking rather pleased with himself, "We'll get him fitted with a PSMI when we get him back to the department. Now, Dumbledore, if you wouldn't mind opening up the floo for us…"

Sirius watched as the headmaster seemed to hesitate for a moment before nodding, the twinkle in his eye gone.

"Moody, contact the Ministry will you," Dawlish added, "And let 'em know that we're bringing in the Dark Servant so they'd better be ready."