Aurors: The Fist of Mars

A Bad Day at Work

"I should be starting level. I should be at Hogwarts! I've already been given a leg-up."

"Which you deserve."

"But I'm not ready to be someone's boss!" Harry stood up from the table, knocking over his empty goblet. He grabbed his cloak and started towards the door. Charms made it impossible to apparate in and out of Grimmauld Place, so they tended to apparate to work from the alley.

"Slow down," Ron said, pushing his food aside. "We have ten minutes!"

Harry wasn't listening. He wanted to get to work and find out what Robards was doing about this.

* * *

Harry burst into Robards' office when he got to work. Robards stayed eerily calm as Harry shouted about maniacs and quintapeds and asked what they were doing to catch West's collaborators.

When Harry was done raving, Gawain Robards folded his hands above his desk planner and took a deep breath. "Dunstan and Proudfoot are on it. You're too close to the case. Let them worry about it. They'll come see you if they have questions."

Harry was about to press on, but he realized that Robards was right. West was in custody. Dunstan was a good auror. Harry didn't need to put all of the world's problems on his shoulders like he had before. He had earned a break, hadn't he?

Savage came in with breakfast and offered some to Harry. Harry, who had left his eggs half-finished, gladly took some food and offered a bit to Ron. "Sorry," Harry said, realizing that Ron had been right in not blowing his top. "Sorry you didn't get to finish breakfast."

"S'alright," Ron said, and then he smiled. "Just wish I had been mentioned in that manifesto too. I did destroy that locket, after all."

Harry laughed. "You're a hero, too."

Savage whistled from the door. "Come on Potter!"

Harry waved to Ron and followed Savage out the door.

"Where were you Monday?" she asked as they walked towards the elevators. "Why were you in Diagon Alley?"

"Just needed to run an errand," Harry said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Alright then."

"Where are we going?" Harry asked, eager to change the subject.

"Steven and Scott Ingles."

"Oh, yeah, that."

Harry and Savage made it down to the lobby and left through the toilet portals. Savage showed Harry a map, and they apparated to a clearing in the woods in Scotland. Steven and Scott Ingles lived in an isolated cottage. Harry glanced over their files as Savage checked the map.

"Brothers?" he asked.

"Husbands," she said. "Steven Diggle Ingles and Scott Ingles."

Savage pointed to the tree line, and Harry followed her forward. They followed a tiny dirty path until the trees opened to another clearing. The cottage was quite large and looked like it had been added onto. A sleek orange cat lingered on the doorstep, and Harry could see another ginger pawing at the windows. "Kneazles," Savage said. "They breed kneazles."

Harry started up the step. The cat, ignoring Harry, turned and hissed at Savage.

"He doesn't like you."

Savage grunted. She pushed past the cat. It scratched at her boots and hissed, but she ignored it. She knocked. No answer. "Maybe they're upstairs," Harry said, checking his wristwatch. It was still quite early if you didn't have an office to be at. Harry stepped off the front stoop and walked around the house. He glanced in through the windows. The ginger cat, another kneazle, continued to paw at the glass. Harry looked inside. There were cat-like creatures crawling all over the place. It was dark. A tall, slender man was face-down on the stairs.

"Savage!" Harry shouted. "Someone's unconscious. Get that door open."

Savage tried a basic unlocking charm, but the door still stuck. She stepped back from the door and fired a shot of red sparks at it. The door blasted in. Harry followed her through the door, his wand drawn. Scott Ingles was face-down, his face bloodied, his feet pointed up the stairs. Savage shined a light on his face and examined his features.

"His nose is smashed, but I don't think that was cause of death."

Harry stepped around the body and climbed the stairs. Steven Ingles was on the landing at the top. His body looked spotless. "Magic," Harry said. "Like Ashford."

Harry saw the bathroom at the end of the hall. Kneazles crossed his path as he walked there. He had heard stories about cats eating their dead owners, but it didn't seem like these creatures had gotten that desperate yet. A litter box tucked behind the toilet was used, but not so much that it was repellant. "Can't have been long," Harry said. "A day maybe?"

Savage swore loudly. She stood up. "Let's call it in. What do you think?"

Harry scratched his face and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "This looks bad."

"Mmhmm," Savage said, heading back towards the door. "It looks like we have a werewolf hunter on our hands."