An old, very old story that I had posted as SlytherinMafia years ago. It was originally a prompt from Deb on the Slytherin's Collective Yahoo group, so I cannot claim that I came up with the idea. I'm not sure this will be continued past what I have already written (if I can find them on this external harddrive I found while moving) but I will give it my best shot. Cross-posted at AO3.

Summery-The Family Reconstruction Act finds another family member for the Dursley's. Only problem is, he's not. Trowa Barton is sent in to infiltrate Grunning's Drills, but finds more than he's sure he can handle.

Pairings: Unknown at time of posting.

Rating: T to M

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

Prologue

"Its not here' Trowa spoke into his ear piece as he snuck down the stairs of number four Privet Drive, his feet not making a sound as he moved.

Not that it would matter if he did make noise, the drugs he'd slipped into the family's food hours earlier had taken care of that threat.

But still, old habits died hard.

"Have you looked every where?" Quatre's voice came over the line into his ear, and Trowa snorted softly. Ever the tactician, the blond always had to make sure that no stone was left unturned, and that nothing vital to a missions success was compromised, even when he knew his fellow pilots were just as cautious.

"No Quat, I haven't. I think I may have left some dust bunnies undisturbed." Trowa quipped as he came to the bottom of the stairs and looked around. He had already gone through the living and dining rooms twice a piece, there was no where that the elder Mr. Dursley could have hidden the documents he was looking for that would not have been found already, but the kitchen was just as lacking in hiding points.

But still. He headed down the hallway towards the eerily spotless kitchen, Quatre still talking softly in his ear as he tried to think of places that the papers may have been hidden away.

Trowa was really beginning to miss the War Days. Back then, they would have just gone in, blown Grunnings up, and gone about their business. No more Plant, no more Mobile Doll parts, problem solved..

Of course, now a days they had to do things legally and by the book. So here he was, creeping through a dark house looking for documents that may or may not have been shredded by now.

Lots of fun. He began running his hands over the walls, trying to find a hidden catch or something, even though he had already done this once before and there had been nothing.

Except the cupboard under the stairs. Trowa blinked as an idea occurred to him.

Wouldn't that be a perfect place to hide something you didn't want found? Most people overlooked a cleaning closet as nothing more than storage space, even he had and he was a trained Gundam Pilot, places like that were supposed to be the first place he looked.

Odd, but he pushed that to the back of his mind.

"Quat, I may have it, if you'd shut up for a minute" The blond screeched in his ear, and Trowa couldn't help but laugh lowly. It was so much fun to pick at the younger pilot, especially when Heero wasn't around to defend his lover for the slightest hangnail. Trowa pulled out his lock picks and knelt down on the ground, frowning as he saw the multiple locks and heavy duty padlock that sealed the cupboard shut.

Hmmm, the papers had to be behind here. What else would the Dursley's have to hide that required that much security?

He worked the locks lose one by one, the image of crawling into bed next to his boyfriend for the first time in weeks at the front of his mind, and finally set the last one to the side.

He was almost out of here. If it wasn't behind here, he was giving up and calling it a failure. They could send Heero in next. There would be a higher body count that way, but they would have the answers they needed. He ignored the mental sound of the Ethics agents screaming as he tugged open the door to the small space.

The inside of the cupboard was pitch black, light from the hallway not even illuminating it, and Trowa felt around until the chain for an overhead light came on his fingers.

He gave it a tug and light lit up the space.

Trowa felt his blood run cold at what Vernon and Petunia had been hiding.

Not papers that linked the head of household to Mobile Dolls, no, that would have been infinitely better than what Trowa found.

No, the cupboard held the small, very small, form of a child.

A child that was staring at him out of green eyes exactly like his.