Chapter 22: Evanesco

Kingsley watched in morbid anticipation as the horrid white mask ripped itself free from the boy's face and flew into Dumbledore's outstretched hand. He stared into the empty eye holes for a second still in shock at what had just taken place.

They'd done it. They'd actually managed to unmask You-know-who's son.

The auror quickly tore his gaze away from the cracked mask to take a new look at the teenager, curiosity burning in his veins. But what we saw made him gasp aloud for he found himself staring into a face he knew all too well…

It was like he was looking at a much younger version of James Potter. The only difference from his friend being the shocking green eyes that stood out fiercely against the boy's black hair and pale skin. Underneath the dark fringe that covered his forehead, Kingsley could just begin to make out what looked to be a newly formed scar or poorly healed wound.

The auror could see the muscles in the teenager's neck strain as he frantically fought against the charms that were holding him securely in place. His eyes darted around the room as if looking for any way to escape or hide himself from the aurors' prying eyes. Despite the boy's best efforts to remain calm, Kingsley could clearly see that the teen was panicking. The teenager's earlier words quickly flashed across his mind.

I can promise you that I've already been through far worse than anything you can put me through.

Kingsley couldn't help but think about what horrors the young wizard in front of him had already experienced in his short life. But at least he could not put a face to the teenager's name… Harry.

Seeming to sense that his struggles were in vain, the boy suddenly went eerily still, a crazed, desperate look still present in his sharp eyes.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" Black's voice echoed around the room, breaking the silence that had fallen across it, "What the fuck is that son-of-a-bitch playing? Was it not enough for him to disrespect the name of a dead child so he decided to copy his face too?!"

On the chair in front of them, Harry narrowed his eyes, glaring daggers at the auror, a look that vividly reminded Kingsley of Lily Potter. For a moment, it looked almost as if the teenager was going to spit back another one of his harsh remarks at Sirius, but he seemed to think better of it. Next to him, Kingsley could hear some of the other aurors fidgeting around uncomfortably.

Everyone in the Auror Department knew about what had happened to James Potter's oldest son more than a decade before. They all also knew that the infant's body had never been able to be recovered. The destruction that had occurred in the nursery had led them to the assumption that there was no way the young child could have survived…

For the first time in many years, Kingsley suddenly felt a flicker of doubt as he looked at the teenager…

Had they actually been wrong all along?

The room was now stiff with tension, everyone suddenly unsure of what they should do next. All of a sudden, the way forward seemed decidedly less clear.

"You all don't believe this, do you?" Black said a long last, his voice full of some unknown emotion, "He's clearly got some kind of glamour on or he's taken some kind of potion. You-know-who is just trying to get into our heads. None of this is real."

The auror's voice cracked on the last word. It was clear that Sirius himself was struggling to believe what he was saying.

"Oh just shut up will you!" the teenager growled, eyes flashing with anger, "I don't know how anyone can stand having you around with your constant whining. Just shut the fuck up and do what you're going to do already. I'm tired of being forced to sit here while you all look at me like I'm some kind of circus freak."

For the first time, Kingsley could make out the dark circles under the boy's eyes, displaying his exhaustion for all to see. The auror suddenly felt bad for the teen. Facing any kind of perceived threat while bound and unable to move would put a considerable amount of stress on anyone. Not to mention the anxiety that came with losing one's ability to do magic.

While he, himself, had never suffered from the effects of having his magical core depleted, he had heard several stories and none of them sounded pleasant. And yet, here they were keeping the poor teenager bound and under countless charms even though he couldn't even cast a simple Lumos.

"My apologies, my dear boy. I am sure this is all just some kind of big misunderstanding and it will be cleared up presently," Dumbledore's voice was as calm as ever, "Perhaps after that, we will be able to allow you a short rest."

The young wizard did not look at all convinced,

"Clear what up exactly? I already told you that I'm not going to answer any of your questions."

Dumbledore looked about to respond when another voice cut in,

"Clear up who the fuck you actually are!"

Kingsley had to press his lips together to resist the urge to sigh deeply. It was Moody about to make things insurmountably worse once more. This he had no doubt about.

"I suggested that we take a moment to discuss our next steps and we can finish this discussion at a later time?" Kingsley knew that if he did not try to control the situation soon then either Moody or Black would do or say something truly foolish, "I believe we could all use a breath of fresh air while we allow our young guest to rest."

This did not have the desired effect.

"Over my dead body," Black growled from beside Kingsley, suddenly lunging forward before any of the aurors had the chance to pull him back, "I'm done waiting. I want answers now."

Kingsley could see the teenager's eyes widen as Sirius rushed toward him, wand drawn. The auror reached Harry a split second later, murder in his eyes, and wrapped his fingers of one hand tightly around the boy's black locks. Black's wand was aimed threateningly at the side of the young wizard's head.

"Drop your glamour and tell me who the hell you really are before I decide to blow your fucking head off."

The teenager let out a soft groan as the tip of Black's wand pressed deeply into the soft flesh on his temple.

"What is it you want me to tell you?" Harry spat back, "You already seem to know my name and who my father is, so what's got your panties all in a twist? I'm sorry that I'm not as ugly as you expected."

There was a furious glint in the teenager's eyes, the bright green orbs darkening slightly as if daring the auror to use his wand.

"Back away, Sirius," Dumbledore said firmly, his hand gripping tightly around his own wand, "Leave the poor boy alone. It's clear that he is just as confused as we are."

"I'm not the one who's confused here," Harry bit back, never moving his gaze from his attacker, "You're the ones who've gone and hired this fucking nut job."

Black let out a low growl and in that instant, Kingsley knew that the auror was about to do something rash.

"Sirius!" he warned, but it was too late.

The auror was already muttering a spell, causing the top of his wand to sharpen to a deadly point. The end was still digging into Harry's temple, making the teen grit his teeth in obvious pain. A second later a trickle of bright red blood slowly began to slide down the side of the boy's face from where the wand had cut into his flesh.

This was enough for Kingsley who surged forward and grabbed onto Sirius's wand arm, all but dragging him away from the teenager. Kingsley couldn't help but flinch as he watched the razor-sharp edge drag down downward as he pulled the auror away. This created a long laceration that ran down from Harry's temple and onto his cheek, narrowly missing his eye. It didn't take long for blood to well up in the gruesome slash and start to run freely down the side of the teenager's face before it slid down his neck and disappeared under the collar of his black robes.

"What in Merlin's name did you do that for, Black?" Kingsley hissed.

Sirius just smirked, allowing his wand to transfigure back into its original shape.

"To save us time," the auror said calmly, as if he was pleased with himself, "No one can fake their blood history, can they…"

Harry's skin itched and tickled as he felt blood trickle its way down the side of his face and onto his neck. He didn't have a mirror and so he couldn't see the damage that Black had inflicted on him. He figured that it couldn't have been that bad as no one was rushing forward to try and keep him from bleeding out, but nevertheless, the cut smarted and stung horribly. The only good thing was that the sharp pain from the slash was helping to keep him awake and grounded in reality...

But it also proved to him just how metal the auror was.

Vaguely, the young wizard heard someone mutter the words 'blood detection' and resisted the urge to groan. Of course, that was why Black had sliced his face open… as an excuse to get at his blood for an identity test. In truth, Harry wasn't exactly sure why the group of Ministry Aurors had seemed so shocked and dismayed by seeing his face. As far as he was aware there was nothing particularly special or notable about his features, save for his scar which was currently hidden beneath his fringe.

He assumed they had expected him to look far more similar to his father than he actually did.

But either way, the teen was pissed. The aurors couldn't seem to make up their minds about what they wanted to do with him. Did they want to try and make him spill all of the Dark Lord's secrets or did they want to talk about his ancestry and blood status?

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Moody in deep discussion with Dawlish. The auror seemed to notice the young wizard looking at them and Moody smirked, reaching into his robes to pull out a small glass vile as if trying to intimidate him by what it meant.

So I was correct, the young wizard thought with a heavy sigh, they want to check my blood right here and now.

Harry felt fatigue start to gather again in his bones. He looked up at Dumbledore, who was engaged in conversation with several other aurors. Harry closed his eyes for a moment, trying to focus the smarting pain from the cut on his face. If he wanted to stay alive then he needed to stay alert. He knew that as soon as he fell asleep his mind became vulnerable to attack.

Harry also knew what the blood detection would find out. Despite how much his father loved to keep secrets from him, his true heritage was something that he had never tried to hide away from his son. And for that Harry was grateful otherwise he knew that he would soon be in for a big shock. He knew all too well the name that would appear on the flask as soon as his blood touched it.

Harry James Riddle.

His father had explained that not even being marked as the Dark Lord's equal, nor the magical adoption they had performed would be enough to change any part of his birth name. This was something that would always be linked with his blood.

Riddle.

His father had taught him to be disgusted with that name. It marked him as coming from a filthy muggle family. However, Dark Lord had assured him long ago that the magical adoption and the magical link he had created between them made him more of a pure-blood than most pure-bloods could ever dream of becoming. But the fact still remained that he was a muggle-born.

Harry didn't know the aurors would take the news when they found out what kind of family the Dark Lord's son was born into, but he figured that he was about to find out.

The teen heard the familiar limping gate of Moody approach him and opened his eyes. The auror had made his way toward him, a small glass flask in his hand. If he had not been so tired, Harry was sure he would be able to sense the charms and spells surrounding the bottle.

The young wizard didn't say a word as Moody slid the lip of the flask up the fresh cut, causing what few blood clots had formed to be torn open and the bleeding to start anew.

"No more secrets. No more hiding," the auror smirked, pulling the now bloody bottle away from Harry's temple.

The teen just glared back, choosing to ignore the name he knew was starting to appear on the outside of the flask. What happened next surprised the teenager. Harry watched as Moody's face went a deathly shade of grey as he silently read the name that had appeared. The auror quickly turned away from him and hurried over to where Dumbledore and Kingsley were. The auror thrust the flash into the elderly wizard's hand and muttered something.

There were a series of shocked gasps from several aurors as the bottle was quickly passed around the group. It was clear that no one seemed to believe the name that had appeared. But it turned out to be Black's reaction that was the most surprising to Harry. The auror let out a strangled cry before he spun around to look at him. A look of horror and disbelief spread across the man's face as if he had just seen a ghost.

At last, Black seemed to gather his senses. He took a step forward, the bloody bottle still clutched tightly in his hand.

"Harry James Potter?" he gasped, "How are you still alive? What did that monster do to you?"