Having read through Draco’s sentence hadn’t been particularly illuminating work, something that had only served to annoy Harry immensely. Considering the gravity not of Draco’s actions but the context, Harry believed the sentence to be harsh but solid; at least in the sense that it was a tremendously better deal than spending years of his life in Azkaban along with most convicted Death Eaters.<br/>What had frustrated Harry was that he had found nothing that justified why a Ministry caseworker was here, six years after Draco had served his punishment.<br/>Dressed in his Auror robes sans cloak and wand, Harry opened the door to the study with little regards to the fact that it was past 12. The Ministry had evidently shown little care for Draco’s privacy, and Harry didn’t feel inclined to offer them that courtesy.<br/>“My apologies for being late,” he said, his infliction muddling the fact that he had been late walking through the manor rather than delayed through the Network. He didn’t plan on addressing it, anyway, and the apology was only spoken to Draco to begin with, genuinely sorry for having left him hanging.<br/>Closing the door behind him, Harry’s attention quickly found the strange man seated in what had become his armchair. A look of recognition dawned upon Harry’s features, the surprise making his lips pull apart in something resembling a smile.<br/>“Clarke,” Harry greeted as he approached the two men. His voice wasn’t impolite, perfectly familiar with the work of junior secretary Martin Clarke, a former Gryffindor student a few years their senior. Glancing over at Draco, Harry had a hard time imagining how appropriate a fit Clarke was to be Draco’s caseworker.<br/>When Harry’s attention returned onto Clarke, the smile had warmed, appearing better composed in the tone of the interaction going forward. “I didn’t know this was your doing.”