Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
A/N: On request. Not my best work, but something of a palate-cleaner anyways.
Auror John Ashdown had never expected to be called on for special duty, but he had never really gotten used to being an Auror in the first place. He nursed a faint regret at where his exceptional talent for defense had landed him, but it was very faint. Without it, he might have ended up like that poor chap Phil, with a broken neck and devoured intestines. Phil now suffered from poor digestion, and the Healers said he had been lucky to get away with full mobility.
Reacting on instinct, he sent a flesh-burning curse at a rustle of movement in the bushes to his left. The crackle of a starting fire was his reward, and he recast the charm that blocked off his sense of smell.
Noticing the shower of green sparks among the copse of trees in front of him, he responded with his own green sparks. He was as sure as possible that his area was clear, save perhaps for the odd resurrected squirrel. Those weren't much of a problem, regardless - if they didn't fall apart by themselves, they either got picked off by birds of prey or were run over by muggle automobiles.
Making his way over to the edge of the trees, he scanned the environment with a practiced eye. After surviving a few times on Inferi-response, one either picked up certain habits or suffered from dismemberment, if not worse.
Alistair Brown - his partner - was already waiting for him, robes torn and muddy.
"All clear?" John asked.
"We'll know soon enough, won't we?" Alistair replied.
John grimaced. They would know soon - a lone Inferius rarely managed to cause serious damage in nearby towns, but gave the Obliviators a lot of work to do. It was getting to be a serious problem, especially with that newfangled "Internet" thing going around. If you erased somebody's memory but it turned out they had posted some photos online, it gave rise to a whole wave of new conspiracy theories. Not that anybody took them seriously, but it was only a matter of time.
John sighed. "Well, let's do one last sweep, then."
John and Alistair swept the graveyard once more, survived an ambush by a human Inferius (hiding behind a large momument) and felled a flock of undead pidgeons, which was surprisingly difficult. A well-timed gout of flame had taken out the majority, but a few stragglers had been left unharmed and the pidgeons were still as fast dead as aliive. Aurors had practice hitting moving targets, but birds were a lot smaller than people on broomsticks.
Apparating back to the Ministry to check out and then to his apartment, John poured himself a stiff drink. The fools at the Ministry who insisted on classifying this as a "minor threat" perpetuated by "amateur necromancers" had obviously never had to deal with a graveyeard full of Inferi themselves. A group of eight Aurors, split up into four groups, was not enough to deal with a graveyard of any reasonable size and expect to avoid casualties. They had gotten very lucky this go around with only a broken ankle among them.
Finishing his drink, he started tidying up his apartment. Having dead bodies all over the place was suspicious, given the current threat. Raising demons was frowned upon, even if one only intended to use the granted powers to kill zombies.
