Meeting with informants was always awkward. For one thing, informants tended to be apprehensive that the Dark Lord, as they called him, would find them out. Or, in rarer cases, they were worried that he would find out that they were false informants planted by Voldemort to send him and his Order of the Phoenix off in the wrong direction. Either way, they were always worried about being caught, because being caught would mean the end, it would mean death or prison or something worse.

And that was another reason that meeting with informants was always awkward, because he knew that they were right. His informants didn't tend to last long. When they had sent in Order members to infiltrate the organization they were lucky if they came back in one piece for the first report let alone the twentieth. Some of the more peripheral sources, the smugglers and wives and occasionally children, those who were unmarked, lasted longer. But the best information always came from those on the inside, those who took the Mark to show their loyalty. And once you took the Mark Voldemort could always track you, would know where you were and would chase you to the ends of the earth for desertion. Albus Dumbledore had seen the mangled corpses of those who could not escape, so he took great effort to protect the identity of his sources.

This was the final reason that the meetings with his informants were awkward. It was prudent to assume that you would find unfriendly eyes upon you. Abandoned warehouses and desolate moors were believed to be secluded and good places to meet and therefore were frequently monitored. No, the best place to meet a source was out in the world, in a crowd of Muggles where Voldemort would not presume to look. Given that most of his co-conspirators were of a background that did not look kindly upon Muggles and were not always leaving their prejudices behind when eschewing the violence he always sought to choose places that presented Muggles in their most enjoyable and positive light. Like the movie theater, the bowling alley, fancy restaurants, music festivals and Shakespeare plays. Sometimes Dumbledore feared he was enjoying the meetings more than he should. And sometimes he was haunted by the laughter of an informant being introduced to the wonder that was Skee-Ball at the arcade by the seashore, only to be found dead a week later.

Today he was meeting his best at the roller disco. The man had sought him out ten months ago, last August, desperate for help, desperate for protection not for himself but for someone who he had not seen in years and was thought to be permanently estranged from. For such a high level informant to come to him with such sincerity and such useful information had seemed too good to be true, and for a while he had been skeptical. When the information from the first interrogation had panned out, he had become fearful that they would soon lose him. When Severus Snape showed up for his fifth meeting in October alive, when they had watched Empire Strikes Back together before discussing the whereabouts of several known Death Eaters - a discussion that would eventually lead to the trap where Alastor Moody caught Evan Rosier- Albus finally decided to let himself believe that this time it might actually work. And that a sequel could be better than the original. When they met for the sixteenth time at the British Museum for tea on January 9th he had remembered to bring the man a present for his birthday (green woolen socks), and Snape had given him a complete inventory of all poisons in Voldemort's possession. The first led Moody to doubt his judgment and impartiality in this case, but the latter had meant that when the Minister was poisoned on Valentine's Day with an extremely rare poison the Order already had the antidote prepared.

After the twenty-second meeting (a seedy karaoke bar in Manchester in March), Albus was forced to admit to himself that these meetings had moved beyond the merely practical exchange of information (the day and time of Voldemort's secret envoy's meeting with the merfolk) and had become enjoyable outings in their own right. He actually enjoyed the young man's company and all the sarcasm and cynicism that went with it. He enjoyed being surprised when Severus would do something unexpected and unguarded. Like delivering an in tune rendition of the Beetle's "Let It Be" after a beer... or maybe two… pitchers. Or when he proved to be a skilled roller skater.

Today he was meeting his best at the roller disco, and had unexpectedly discovered that the lanky awkward man could out skate him. With his eyes closed. In figure eights. Backwards. At over one hundred, this didn't worry him but it did confuse him. But that wasn't the reason they were there, as Albus attempted to remember the reason they were there. And he was ashamed to admit that the reason they were there was that he wanted to go to a roller disco and had no one who wanted to accompany him. Well, the pretext that they were there for was to receive an update on recent Death Eater activities and to get Severus's opinion on the applicants for teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts next year. In the last ten years he might have hired four Death Eaters for the post, but he had only known about one of them beforehand. He did not want to be caught off guard again. Of the five applicants he knew that two were, Severus himself and a seventy year witch from the Flint clan, but he also knew that Voldemort wanted eyes at Hogwarts and would order multiple followers to apply in the hopes of getting someone well positioned for the following year. Avoiding this trap and talking Horace Slughorn out of his fifth frustrated declaration of retirement (it was becoming an annual ritual) were the two staffing actions he needed to take before term started in two months.

Severus left the rink after ABBA's "Take a Chance on Me", taking off his skates (Albus thought for a second that he caught a glimpse of green woolen socks) before joining him at the bar. After ordering a lager and some of the cardboard pizza, it was time to discuss business.

"My dear boy, where did you learn to skate like that?" Albus queried.

Snape just looked at him for a second with his unreadable eyes, then replied, "The Dark Lord has entrusted Lucius Malfoy with some form of priceless artifact to be kept hidden and safe. I was unable to get a good look at it, but it appears to be roughly the size and shape of a small book."

Dumbledore sighed, knowing that this artifact was probably more important than the question of roller skating spies, but disappointed nonetheless by the change of subject. "I shall research possible artifacts. Do you think it might be found in a ministry search of Malfoy Manor?"

Snape replied with a slight shake of his head. After a couple minutes of silent drinking and eating, he said, "I have no other new news for you; the Dark Lord has had no need of my services in the four days since our last meeting."

Dumbledore nodded, remembering the delightful fish and chips restaurant where they had discussed the latest threat to the Potters. "We have moved the Potters to a secure location, and are making preparations to hide them with the Fidelus Charm."

Snape set down the pizza he had been nibbling at, and let out a slight sigh. "Who will be the secret keeper?"

"We are still discussing it. Thanks to your information we know that someone near the Potters has been leaking information to Voldemort, so we are seeking someone who we know will protect them," Dumbledore said.

"Until I can identify the spy, it is best that you treat all of Potter's friends as suspect," Snape replied. "Black is a reckless fool, Pettigrew is a coward and the Dark Lord has been aggressively recruiting werewolves. I'm sure they would be safest with you as the secret keeper."

Dumbledore nodded, "I will consider that." After a short silence, he produced a file from inside his robes. "I was wondering, Severus, if you could tell me what you know about certain people." After a curt nod in reply he started, "Silicia Flint?"

"Death Eater, though Merlin knows why Voldemort would want her, she is half troll and I would consider her the dumbest creature I have ever had the displeasure of meeting if I hadn't had the acquaintance of Crabbe and Goyle. Under orders to apply for your Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

"Colin Martin?"

"Australian, no known involvement with Voldemort. Supplies Jigger and Bones with Ashwinder eggs."

"Ashwinder eggs are Class A non-tradable," Dumbledore sighed. "Belladonna Mayhew?"

"Death Eater, quick with a wand but predictable over reliance on stunners and Cruciatus. Also under orders to apply for your Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

"I'll have to have the Order look into her, as a background check for the job of course," Dumbledore sighed. He didn't ask for all the names that Snape knew, only the most dangerous and immediate in order to help maintain cover, because each new piece of information could be the one that was traced back to its source, but Belladonna had to be the twenty-fifth new name that had been supplied over their acquaintance. Yet the one name that the younger man truly wanted, he had been unable to find. "Daemon Lucifer?"

"Vampire, and not house trained either. Met with the Dark Lord on some business two years ago, and I would not be surprised if they kept up their acquaintance. Has he also applied for the Defense job?" When Dumbledore nodded, he continued, "If these questions are about who you will hire, I would have to say that they are all less qualified than I am and would hope that you would hire me before them."

"I was not under the impression that it was your desire to enter the teaching profession that led you to apply, Severus," Dumbledore said.

"I do not believe that it was either Silicia or Belladonna's desire either," Severus replied, "And Lucifer is not safe to be around children."

"Ah, but I do believe that the children would have much to gain from an international exchange of knowledge," Dumbledore said. "Yes, I do believe that I shall owl Mr. Martin in the morning."

"I do believe that the Committee on Apothecary Regulation will get an anonymous tip in the morning about Jigger and Bones."

"Good, Ashwinder Eggs shouldn't be available to the public, they could be used to make some truly awful potions," Dumbledore said. "If I recall correctly, the poison that the Minister of Magic so unfortunately ingested contained some. I'm sure when they investigate we can learn just who has been purchasing such ingredients."

Snape's shoulders slumped and the intensity drained from his eyes at that. Of course, he had always known that the younger man had made the potion, quite a clever piece of work actually when you ignored its deadly nature, but this just provided further confirmation.

"Come now," Dumbledore started jovially, "If I were to decide to appoint you, you are aware that the position is cursed. Something will always come up and the teacher will only last one year in the position. If they are lucky they will escape alive, but we haven't had such luck. I do wonder, though, why he keeps sending his Death Eaters to take up a post that he himself cursed. Surely it would be much easier to only infiltrate Hogwarts once."

"As opposed to six times in the last ten years," Snape replied.

"Yes as opposed to six times…," Dumbledore said, before catching what he was saying. "…no, it's been only four, I distinctly remember – Winslow, Fae, Nabokov, and Yaxley."

"Brimsley and Bloodaxe," Snape replied with certainty.

"Professor Brimsley was run out of the school for inappropriate relations with a Ravenclaw prefect, not anything to do with the war. And Professor Bloodaxe was, well a goblin, goblins don't follow him."

"Goblins don't teach at Hogwarts either. Professor Bloodaxe was a very, shall we say, unique, individual," Snape drawled. "Which prefect?"

"One of Augustus Rookwood's nieces, it would have been your third year. It took quite a while to convince the ministry that we were taking student teacher relations seriously after that," Dumbledore said. "Really, six?"

"That I know of."

Dumbledore shook his head at that. The music switched to the Bee Gees, inducing a cringe in the young man.

"Headmaster," Snape started.

"You do know you can call me Albus."

"Headmaster, if you were to hire me it would be much easier and less dangerous to arrange a meeting."

"Ah, but then I would miss the food," he said looking down at his pizza that might as well be cardboard, with tomato sauce that might as well be glue and cheese that might as well be rubber, "And the atmosphere." 'Staying Alive' blared from the speakers as the disco lights sparkled across the rink occupied by happy skating young people.

"Exactly."

Dumbledore sighed. Some people just didn't appreciate the lengths he went to get them to enjoy themselves. "That does not change the fact that it would only be for a year."

"I was not anticipating surviving for another year, honestly."

At this Dumbledore frowned. Snape had outlasted all of his previous spies by about nine months, and this might have led to a certain complacency on his part. The fear that the next time he would fail to walk through the door had subsided for him, but apparently Severus still felt it acutely. While the operas and horse races and football matches did provide their own security, it would certainly be less suspicious for a meeting to occur between the Headmaster and his staff. But there was still the curse to consider.

"My dear boy, I have more faith in your abilities than that. The cursed position will go to Mr. Martin, and that is the end of it," Dumbledore said. "However, Horace Slughorn has just retired as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin."

"For the fifth time, no one takes Sluggy seriously," Snape said.

"It might be time to start," Dumbledore said. "Now, if Voldemort thought he had you installed as Head of Slytherin what would he expect for you to do at my school…"

Disclaimer: Me no own Harry Potter, JKRowling owns Harry Potter.

Authors note: If anyone was wondering, my chapter fics have all been put on permanent hiatus. After a long break from fandom the plot bunnies started eating my head again, and this was the first. It is actually kind of awful. Any future fics will only be posted if they are completed on my hard drive, which will probably mean that only one shots will be released. I'm not sure I'm happy with this, I keep wondering if the tone is too inconsistent, but I can't think of new edits so I'm going to declare it complete. Thank you, enjoy, and review.