I don't own the Harry Potter Universe.

The drinks were never good here, she mused, swirling the ice cubes around in her glass. Of course that was to be expected when one chose to frequent the Hog's Head, a pub famed for its lack of cleanliness and customer service. For all the times she had been here, not once could she remember the Barman showing any ounce of politeness towards her, or any of the other customers for that matter. Most sensible people steered well clear of the dingy tavern, opting instead for Madam Rosemerta's more upmarket establishment.

In fact the only reason for the pub's continued existence was its clientele. Lowlifes and petty criminals, who used the place to carry out unlawful deeds and black market exchanges away from the prying eyes of the ministry. Of course, she was not here to take part in such activities. If she had a choice, she would much rather be basking in the warmth of the Three Broomsticks with a cocktail to hand. As it was, she had found the Hog's Head to be a most useful source of information throughout her career, and it seemed as though today was no exception.

A cool breeze swept through the pub as the door opened. She pulled her hood lower, covering her face, and gave a start of recognition as Severus Snape walked into the pub.

Snape too wore a hooded cloak, but the hook shaped nose was unmistakable. He hovered for a moment, eyeing everyone in the bar carefully, before settling down at a table close to hers.

For a few minutes Snape waited, seemingly contemplating the menu on the table. Then, a second man, who had been leaning by the bar, walked slowly towards him, and sat down at the table. He moved with such discretion, that most people in the pub did not even notice the action.

As the two men began to talk, she leaned forward and strained her ears to listen over the din of noise in the pub.

"What news Severus?"

"Not much Lupin, I'll keep it short. There's a leak within the ministry. One of their workers has been talking to the Dark Lord, whether by force or voluntarily, I do not know."

"Any names?"

"Trowoski I think, I couldn't catch his first name"

"Any reason why Lord Voldemort would want him?"

"Not to my knowledge. He didn't share what Trowoski said with the rest of us. I think he suspects a traitor in the camp. Nevertheless, he was happy with the news. Disturbingly happy. It makes me think that whatever Trowoski told him was of great importance."

"Something he might try to use to his advantage?"

"Possibly. Anyway, I need to get back, the Dark Lord has organised a spot of muggle "entertainment" for us and my absence is already likely to have been noticed. Relay the information at the meeting tonight."

Both men rose, "Take care of yourself Severus" said Lupin looking at Snape with concern. The potions master nodded curtly and swept from the room into the rapidly darkening alleyway outside. Lupin waited for a moment before following.

She waited for Snape and Lupin to disappear down the alleyway, before walking outside. The evening breeze ruffled her hair as she turned on the spot, and disapparated with a crack.

Luckily, the Ministry was fairly empty being so late in the evening, and she was able to navigate through the building without much trouble. Tracing the familiar steps, she found herself standing outside a room she had used many times before, situated deep within the lower levels of the building. She glanced down each of the corridors beside her before opening the door. The room itself had been commissioned under the wizarding equivalent of what the muggles referred to as the Freedom of Information Act. It contained many documents available to the public, including the large tome in her hands, listing the details of all Ministry employees. She thumbed through all the pages in the book, but found only one name matching that given by Snape.

Trowoski, Peter – Adoption Services, Floor 18.

Wondering what possible information an adoption worker could have that would interest the most notorious murderer in wizarding history, she made her way out of the room and headed for the lifts at the end of the corridor.

She punched the small button labelled 18, and waited as the lift made its way upwards with a shuddering motion. The small red numbers above the lift doors indicated that she had reached floor 12 when the doors opened.

A guard on night duty entered casually and leant against one side as the lift continued on upwards. He glanced sideways, giving her an appraising look.

"Bit late to be wandering around here Miss."

She rolled her eyes and produced a card from inside her robes.

"I'm here on work business, as you can see from this," she said brandishing the card, "I have authorised access to ministry departments."

The guard looked at her card and recognising her name, grunted in approval.

"All right, just make sure you check in properly with reception next time."

It was lucky perhaps, that the doors opened to Floor 18 at that moment, stopping a remark that would surely have landed her in trouble. Instead, she contented herself with a cheery wave back at him which quickly turned into a rude gesture as the doors closed.

The walls of floor 18 were adorned with hundreds of colourful pictures and decorations, no doubt in an effort to provide a 'family friendly' atmosphere for the many hopeful parents looking to adopt a new son or daughter.

She swiftly made her way, through each of the small cubicles lining the floor until she found the one she was looking for. The letters on the outside wall which spelt out PETER TROWOSKI, were faded and peeling, indicating that the man had occupied this area for quite some time.

With great care, she began to scrutinise every single item or document that had been crammed into the tiny office, hoping to find some clue as to why Lord Voldemort had been so interested in what this man had to say. In one of the desk drawers, she found an empty sheet of parchment, which she was about to discard, when she noticed how fragile and delicate it looked. Faded and ripped at the corners, this parchment must have been at least 10 years old, and she knew no self respecting ministry employee would bother keeping it, when they received fresh parchment on a daily basis.

No, there was surely something significant within this parchment, probably concealed with some kind of security charm.

She tapped the parchment with her wand.

The words Confirm Password rippled across the page in shiny black letters.

Cursing under her breath, she looked around the cubicle, hoping for some kind of inspiration and caught sight of a brightly coloured birthday card tacked to the opposite wall.

Of course, parents were so easy to predict.

She flipped the card over and saw the scribble of handwriting To Daddy Love Jane

Tracing the letters J A N E, she felt a jolt of satisfaction as a number of black lines appeared on the page, and joined together to form words.

The excitement that had been building inside her vanished when she saw what the paper had revealed. There was nothing here which remotely suggested to her as out of the usual, not at least anything that would gain the Dark Lord's attention, just a record of children and next to it the names of the parents who had adopted them.

She was almost ready to give up and go home, when she caught sight of the last name on the list.

18) Harry James Potter- Date of Birth: 31 July 1980

The shock that that hit her was overwhelming, but not nearly as much as that which registered when she read the name beside his.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

A wide smile graced her features as she placed the document within her crocodile skin purse.

Rita Skeeter had her story at last.