Aurors: The Fist of Mars

Ashton Gray

Ron was already growing quite bored with tailing their suspects. It had only been a week, but he had decided days before that this was a fool's errand. Why would a death eater who got away with their crimes start meeting with other death eaters after the war was over? There was nothing to be gained. Harry insisted they keep doing it, though, because they had nothing else.

On Friday night, Ron followed Ashton Gray from the office to the Apothecary to Gringott's and then back to his flat in South London. Gray's house was a three-story townhouse with camel-colored brick facing and an arched doorframe. As Gray approached it on foot, Ron lurked in the shadows at a distance. He was retreating into his thoughts as Gray unlocked the door. This was stupid. This was pointless. This was a waste of time. He didn't even notice when Gray drew his wand and aimed a stunning spell into the dark.

It caught Ron completely unawares, and with his legs and arms frozen, he lost his balance and toppled over. "Who's there?" Gray shouted, hearing the tumbling noise that indicated a successful hex.

"Rnnn Wsslluhhh," Ron mumbled through a petrified jaw. Ron was a big guy, and he was used to the spells of his classmates wearing off pretty quickly (unless they were Hermione). This was a solid stunner.

"Weasley?" Gray asked, confused. "Ron Weasley?"

"Ysssh," Ron said, struggling but finding himself completely unable to move.

Gray walked briskly up the sidewalk, stopping in front of Ron. He stood over him in the dark, his tall, lean figure silhouetted in the street lamp behind him, his silver hair golden in the warm light. He waved his wand and freed Ron. "Why are you stalking me, Weasley?"

Ron climbed to his feet, his face growing hot as he tried to think of a reason. He had already been busted once and had to eat dinner with Proudfoot. What could he do now? Maybe a partial truth would do.

"I needed to ask you some questions, but away from the office."

"What kind of questions?" Gray asked, and Ron noticed he hadn't put his wand away. Ron was acutely aware of his own wand strapped to his hip in its holster.

"Well," Ron said. "Harry and I think someone in the department is up to something..."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because..." should he say what they knew? Because someone had squealed on Brynja? "Because when the Malfoys took us and Hermione, we heard Lestrange talking about an auror they had on their side," he lied. "And, well, I wanted to ask you if you saw anything suspicious."

Gray narrowed his gaze. "Or to ask me where I was?" He spun around and started to leave. "Go home, Weasley. If you're so concerned, we can talk to Robards on Monday."

Robards? That was the last person Ron wanted Gray talking to. "Wait!" Ron shouted, and he reached out to grab Gray's arm. Gray spun around, wand aimed at Ron. Ron kept his grip on the fabric of Gray's robe, and with the twisting, the loose sleeve scrunched up, revealing a coal black mark on Gray's arm. Ron could only see a bit of the mark, but he knew it was no ordinary tattoo. He recognized the fragment as the tail of a serpent. "Dark Mark," he blurted, and then he threw himself to the left just in time for a blast of red sparks to shoot past his ear.

Ron hit the ground, but he kept his head just enough to stick his enormous foot out and sweep Gray's legs. Gray landed hard on his back, and his wand rolled inches away from his hand. Ron crawled towards it.

As his fingers were just about to grab the wand, he felt Gray's hand grip the back of his collar. Ron was choking, and Gray used that moment of hesitation to reach into the younger man's holster and take his wand. "Don't you move, Weasley," Gray said in a low, tense voice. Ron glanced at Gray's wand on the sidewalk, but he knew that he couldn't reach it and cast a spell before Gray could react. He wasn't fast enough. He'd never been the most gifted when it came to spells.

"Nosy, nosy Weasley and Potter can't mind their own business. You think it was an easy choice? Work for us or end up like the Longbottoms. I saw what happened to them. I was their colleague back before you were even born. The ministry was already lost. What would you do, given the choice to join the winning side or be tortured until you regressed into nothing but a toddler? Can you say you really would have made a different choice?"

"Are you asking for my pity?" Ron asked. Laying on the sidewalk, looking up at Gray, Ron's thoughts went to the Great Hall at Hogwarts the morning after the battle. Fred's corpse was laid out under a blanket, his eyes closed, his smile gone. Each and every Weasley had refused to cooperate with the Death Eater Ministry. Each and every Weasley had faced impossible odds. Even Percy, ambitious and self-interested as he was, had made the right choice. There was no excuse for Gray. "Because you're not going to get it." Ron spat at Ashton Gray's feet. "Go ahead and kill me. Harry won't stop until he finds out who did it, and then you'll be spending the rest of your life in a cell next to someone else you put there. Go ahead."

Gray's hand was shaking. "Oh, there are plenty of known Death Eaters to blame for this."

"Outside your house?"

"I can move a body."

"Harry knows where I was going."

"Doesn't mean you made it there."

Their conversation was cut short by a shot from the dark. A blast of blue sparks appeared behind Gray, colliding with the back of his head and sending him sprawling on top of Ron. Out of the shadows ran Neville Longbottom, wand out. Neville looked better than when Ron had last seen him. Neville had spent the last few months of the war in hiding at Hogwarts, training to fight with the DA. The pudgy, round-faced boy of their first year was gone, though his large brown eyes and apple cheekbones made him look more like his mother than father. He was dressed in a uniform that Ron recognized as belonging to the hit-wizard squad.

"Neville!" Ron said, pushing Gray off of him. He wasn't stunned or frozen, just unconscious. Ron's wand had gone flying out of Gray's hand and rolled into the street. Neville summoned it and handed it to Ron as he helped him off the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Gran lives in this neighborhood," Neville said. He summoned ropes to wrap around Gray. "Who is this guy?"

Ron knelt down and pulled Gray's sleeve back, confirming the full Dark Mark. "Auror," Ron said. "Well, soon to be ex, I'm guessing." Ron wondered if Neville had heard all of that stuff Gray had been saying about his parents being like toddlers. "Blimey! I could have just died right then." Ron rubbed his forehead and looked around the darkened street. A bus passed by filled with muggles, and lights were on down the street, but nobody had come out to see what all the commotion was. Cities, Ron thought. At least he didn't have to get the obliviators out when the muggles willfully ignored conflict.

"Should we call for Harry?" Neville asked.

Ron nodded. Harry first, then the rest of the Aurors. They boys needed some time to think of what they would tell their boss.