"Please," Harry dismissed without remorse, eyes dipping to one of the envelopes in his hands; this, he opened. "They haven’t, and they’ve had a month to figure it out."<br/>The envelope revealed the collective work carried out by Cursebreakers and Aurors at the Death Eater house at Towthorpe; though composed of well over a hundred pages of parchment, Harry still thought it to be frustratingly thin, mostly describing the process of finding the house.<br/>"Neither could the lads at Counterfeit Defense Spells, or any Healer I saw at St. Mungo’s. Nor the Hit Wizard who offered to help, Merlin knows why."<br/>Harry skimmed over the file as he spoke, reading the same words for the millionth time and once again finding nothing that justified Malfoy’s sudden shyness, nothing that justified even paying for the work that had been executed. In private, Harry knew that a position at the Ministry didn’t always equate to sufficient competence.<br/>He eventually closed the file, the stack of papers sinking into it, returning to the thickness of only the folder itself. Once again, it had revealed nothing new, but this time, Harry felt perfectly at ease.<br/>"I have the files to prove it," he said, eyes finally meeting Malfoy’s. A grin was pulling at his lips, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to share it before Malfoy had signed away his right to talk about it. "Yesterday alone proved that you’re a better investment than any of them. The payrate is standard for a specialist, and I believe it to be well deserved. The DMLE agrees."