Work over the next few weeks was overwhelming. For the last year he had been leading a team in charge of apprehending former death eaters still at large. It was a surprisingly good gig for someone so young in the department, but he was well fitted to it. It turned out studying for the things he was actually interested in came pretty easily to him, and understanding the patterns and actions of death eaters became something of a speciality for him. Just a few weeks earlier he had led the capture of three former Voldemort supporters that had blown up two apartment buildings (and aimed for a third) in Sheffield. It wasn't exactly an organized plot or anything, more of a point to let others know they were still at large. Still, the arrests led to a front page Daily Prophet article, something Ron would have been proud of if he had anyone to share the news with.
As it stood, Ron was feeling pretty isolated. Since his blow up at the Burrow, Ron hadn't attended a single Sunday night dinner and had limited contact with his family. This seemed to extend to Harry, who appeared to be avoiding him in and out of work. Whether this was because of Ginny's request or if he was just over Ron's behavior, he didn't know, but the lack of connection to anyone in his life still hurt. So, with an astounding amount of ignorance that he would never use in his work life, he decided to wait it out and see if things would just blow over and go back to normal.
The office was mostly empty as the day shift workers shuffled out to make way for the
swing shift that was soon to start. Ron decided to stay a little late again to finish up a few documents that could probably wait, but it wasn't like he had anywhere to be.
"Weasley! A word?" Ron jumped in his seat before turning to see his boss standing behind him. Auror Robards was a gruff looking man with a peppered beard and thinning hair to match. Despite his advancing age he still carried an aura of power that made most men nervous in his presence, Ron included. He pointed towards his office in the back hall. Wondering what he could have possibly done wrong this time, Ron simply nodded and stood up.
Entering the darkened office, Ron took a seat in front of the grizzled man's desk. He noticed that Percy's most senior boss, the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation was in the office as well, looking strangely ruffled. Though nowhere near as stiff upper lipped as his predecessor Barty Crouch, Randal Mullins generally kept a stern persona that no one but Percy would find endearing.
Auror Robards took a seat behind his desk and stared back at Ron quizzically for a few moments as though trying to size him up.
"Er… sir, is there something I've done? If this is about the Sheffield reports, I've been-"
"No Weasley this isn't about anything you've done. It's about something you can do." Robards announced carefully. Mullins cleared his throat.
"Mr. Weasley, I take it you've been keeping up with the stories of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's former followers abroad?"
"A bit, yeah" Ron answered honestly. Most of his work involved looking for death eaters still mucking about on English soil, but it hadn't escaped his attention they've been popping up elsewhere. The conversation about Italy at the burrow suddenly replayed in his head.
"For the most part these rings of blood purists have little to do with us, and despite our cooperation with other countries on providing information on fugitives we've set our priorities at home. However, it's come to our attention that a former death eater- Dolohov- has been building a ring of followers out of the country in Australia. His influence has been rising steadily there, and reports have shown he's planning something large. Something that will have rippling effects internationally. The Australian ministry has requested our support on this and asked that we send someone familiar with Dolohov and the death eaters to immediately come and help infiltrate the organization."
Ron took in the words he was hearing carefully. He had known Dolohov was one of the first death eaters to escape the country after Voldemort fell, and that his ambition and process was larger than most of his blood purist friends, but had never thought much about his whereabouts. Not that he didn't want the bastard caught, but he'd had enough to focus on day to day. The intensity sitting in the room told him that whatever was happening must be big though, especially considering the amount of troubles they still had in their own country.
Robards spoke into the silence that had briefly fallen. "We were hoping to send you Weasley."
Ron looked shocked. "Me? Why me?"
"For a number of reasons. We need someone with knowledge of death eater patterns, someone who can blend in with pureblood culture, someone with a strategic mind who has been undercover, and someone the Australian ministry feels they can trust. You fit the bill"
Ron mulled this over. Yeah, he knew a bit about how the death eaters had strategized in the past, he'd given reports on it many times, but there were better experts in the department. As far as understanding 'pureblood culture' he knew enough to know he didn't fit into their standards at all. He'd been undercover once before so he couldn't really call himself a pro in that area. And trusted by the ministry there? He assumed that must just be name recognition.
"Why me though? There's others here that are definitely better at going undercover. I know I'm not terrible, but I'm not exactly experienced, and I'm piss poor at accents."
Robards considered him for a bit before answering. "There were a few other candidates we thought about, but there were other complications we had to take into consideration."
"Such as?"
"Such as what will have to be sacrificed for this mission to work."
The heavy silence returned to the room for a few brief moments with that quiet statement. Ron swallowed.
"Like what?"
"There's no saying how long this mission will take. Could be two months, could be two years. We need someone who can leave in a moment's notice here. The other candidates we considered have wives and children, and would be more hard pressed to leave that behind."
Ron deflated a bit at this. So this came down to his shitty love life yet again. He felt annoyed by this, but also a burning acceptance. It was true. He really didn't have much to leave behind.
"And on top of this" Robards continued, "we have to be extremely careful here. Dolohov is a lot more intelligent than most of his past cronies, and his sights seem to reach further than even Voldemort himself had. There can be zero chance that he suspects the British ministry has sent a mole, and knowing him he has his own here already" Robards frowned, "If a well known auror were to suddenly disappear around the same time a new recruit joined them, suspicion could arise."
"So how are you planning to avoid that?" Ron asked, knowing very well he likely didn't want to know the answer.
"By faking your death."
Ron was right. He didn't want to know that. He swallowed again, feeling his throat dry out further.
"To like, the media and stuff you mean, right?"
Robards eyed him with something- perhaps sympathy?
"No Ron. To everyone. If you go, you'll be agreeing to erase yourself completely here. No one, not your family, not even the minister himself, will know the truth. Just the three of us in this room."
Ron considered this. Every part of him was screaming to say no, call the both of them mental and storm out of the room, back to the safety of his friends and family. But then a different sensation hit the pit of his stomach. He really didn't have anyone to go back to at the moment with the way he'd been acting. Biting his lip, he sat and considered.
"We want you to know," Mullins began, "that if you do this, you may be very well helping to save countless lives. Thousands of people are at risk. Do you remember those bombings you worked on?"
Ron nodded, surprised.
"Those weren't random. They were tests, to see how vast of an area a magical bomb could hit and what evidence would be left behind. Those explosions were tiny in comparison to what might be next."
Ron's stomach soured at this. Those "tiny" explosions had killed dozens of people. The magical energy that caused the explosions didn't seem to have any counterspells that worked on them either. They could be contained, which luckily was the case for the third bomb they found, but even then the explosion it caused knocked out a whole floor of the building it was in.
"And after the case ends. I can come back right? Even though everyone will think I'm dead, I'm not going to be stuck there or anything, right?"
"When this case ends you'll come back as a hero to open arms, we can assure you of that."
Ron took a moment to look at both the men's faces. He saw worry, but certainty in them both. He trusted his boss completely, even if he scared the shit out of him most of the time. The part of him that was screaming to say no and run was still there, but it was being quieted by his own resolve. He'd bollocks up enough these last few months, but here was an opportunity to do the right thing. And Ginny was right. He did always choose to walk away, but maybe this time he could at last be walking towards something good.
"Ok" he said quietly, with a look of forced calm on his face "Ok. I'll do it. When do I leave?"
Robards nodded his approval and tightened his lips. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was as close as he ever gave. "Good. You leave tonight."