Draco let out an exasperated sigh. He drummed his fingers along the white marble reception desk. The first thing he had done this morning had been to make his way over to the Wizarding Publishing Company in Diagon Alley. The young brown haired witch looked at him fearfully.

'What do you mean you can't help me?' Draco snapped.

'A-auror Malfoy - if I could I would - but it is just not possible -'

'NOT POSSIBLE!' Draco shouted, losing his temper. 'Not possible!'

The woman gulped. 'That's what I've been trying to tell you. Company policy doesn't allow me to divulge information on our clients.'

Draco leaned across the desk so that he was almost in her face. 'Now listen to me,' he said dangerously. 'What part of I'm investigating a crime that involves one of your clients - did you not understand?' Draco slammed his hand down on the desk, making the receptionist jump.

'That's enough!' said a voice.

Draco looked up and saw that an older woman had made an appearance from the door that was behind the reception desk.

'I do not take kindly to my staff being threatened - take your leave, before I force you to leave.' she said firmly. 'Or I'll call for Auror, whichever suits you.'

Draco held up his license. 'It's a bit late for that.'

She gave him a stern look. 'Just what was it you were after Auror Malfoy?'

Draco snorted, of course, she would know his name, there weren't many people in the wizarding community who didn't - after everything that happened in the war.

'I'm working a case that involves a crime scene that appears in on of your clients books,' Draco said. 'Mrs - miss?'

'Odette, will be just fine,' she said. 'and which one Auror Malfoy - we have many clients that fit that description.'

'James Evans.'

Odette gaped at him. 'Follow me - Claire,' she addressed the woman behind the desk. 'Take five, ask Sarah to cover you.'

Draco followed Odette to a small office, in the back of the premises. He took a note of the name upon the door: O. Briham; Chief Editor. She sat down behind her desk, her head resting upon her hands.

'Claire was right that is our company policy not to hand out information about our clients,' Odette said softly. 'But I take it there has been a killing - as you are asking about that particular author.'

'It's classified,' Draco said. 'We'd hoped that, we'd be able to get hold of him, we need to question him upon a few things - if you could just -'

Odette sighed, her eyes closed. 'Here's the deal Auror Malfoy - and this conversation stays confidential-' her blue eyes looked into his. 'If I could help you, I would - I just can't-'

'So dragging me in here was to just waste my time!'

'You misunderstand Auror Malfoy - I can't help you because we as a company don't even know who James Evans is - and he's our best seller.'

It was Draco's turn to stare at her open mouthed. Odette sighed again.

'No one else in this company knows that information but me -'

'But surely - you must pay the man?' Draco said.

Odette shook her head. 'Every last Knut of prophet goes to a ward on St Mungo's - NICU, the neonatal intensive care unit, specialises ill or premature newborn infants - James Evans only exists in book form - we learnt that after all the trouble we had-'

'With Mrs Perkins?'

Odette glanced at him. 'You did do this properly then.'

Draco knew it wasn't a question.

'Yes,' she said. 'It was all over the Daily Prophet, we had no clue what to do,' she opened a desk draw and handed him a piece of parchment. Draco read it.

Dear Miss Briham,
I would like to compensate Mrs Perkins for all of her troubles. Take the money out of the prophet you make.
It must have not been easy for her, to have deal with adoring fans of my work,
please tell her, from one James Evans to another I'm truly sorry.
I would also like to send her signed copies of my books, you will find them all attached.
It's not much but I hope that it at least will give her something to ponder over when she needs
the rest. Please also find attached the new manuscript for my latest book, Kai Mason and the Copycat,
the recent happening gave me an idea. I dedicated it to her as a thank you.
You should know where to send the money by now,
Yours sincerely,
James Evans.

'We did exactly like he asked us to. Took the money out of the prophet and the rest went to St Mungo's,' Odette said, when Draco looked back up, 'Even added that fan mail to be sent here on the back-cover of the books. We haven't had a complaint since.'

Draco sighed. 'Do you have any more of these notes?' Odette nodded. 'Do you mind if I run a quick test upon them.'

'Go ahead,' she said, pulling two more from her desk.

Draco tapped his wand upon each one, he did not like what the spelled revealed. Odette was glancing at him curiously.

'I just wanted to know if he had wrote them himself,' Draco said.

'Oh ...'

Draco was rather annoyed, each letter that had been sent had not been in the author's handwriting - he'd used charmed quills. Who ever James Evans was, knew how to cover his tracks. And he was beginning to get on Draco's nerves. He stormed out of the publishing company, making towards the Leaky Cauldron. Though he was on duty he could use a drink - as he walked through to the pub he collided - due to his not paying attention to where he was going - with a slim frame, his arms went to their waist to steady them - the next thing he knew, he was upon the floor, on his back, staring into piercing emerald eyes - a wand pointed at the bridge of his nose. Draco blinked up at her - Potter did not look pleased at all -

'Next time,' she said fiercely, 'I'll hex your balls off if you touch me.'

With her point clearly made, she disappeared towards Diagon Alley.