Buggering git, Gawain thought as he pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks. Yes, he had his sodding identification, but the little pillock had had the nerve to see if it was a forgery. It was all Gawain could do not to swat him. He understood the need for properly identifying everyone, but that was a bit much.
Giving Rosmerta (who looked a little worse for the wear, honestly) a faint smile and the payment, he took his pint and headed to the back room. She'd promised to bring his meal in.
The days at the Ministry were getting longer, which was odd because there didn't seem to be more crime. In fact, there weren't many at all. At least not ones he was allowed to investigate. He'd been informed by Yaxley that there were certain operatives working for the Ministry that would not be interfered with.
Operatives his arse. Death Eaters was what they were.
Glancing around, quite aware of the eyes on him (things were getting more tense everywhere these days), he spotted a faintly familiar face in the corner. He moved in that direction, trying to put a name to the man. It came to him as the light hit his face.