Ron knew he was in for trouble as soon as he read the assignment. Bugger all. He'd done his absolute best to stay out of Malfoys' way since the war had ended, and that hadn't been an easy task as mostly Ron wanted to throttle the self-righteous git and his Death Eater father. This assignment was really asking too much; Ron didn't think he could waltz into Malfoy Manner and act professionally. He still remembered too vividly his last visit there, during the war. Still, Ron knew he couldn't argue with an assignment.
Sighing, he got up from his desk and dropped over to Harry's. "You will not believe where they're sending me." He dropped the assignment sheet on top of Harry's pile of work.
Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and picked up the sheet. "What?" He squeaked. "They can't be serious!"
"Have you ever known them to send out joke assignments?"
"You don't really think the Malfoys would give up all their artifacts?" Harry stared up at Ron from where Harry still sat at his desk.
"They must have some to give up, or this will be a bloody short visit."
"Maybe it's a trap."
"Surely not!" Ron had to admit that the thought had not occurred to him. Perhaps Harry would always be the better Auror, more aware of all the risks involved in every situation.
"I should come with you," said Harry flatly as he rose from his chair.
"I'm sure that's not necessary. I'll have a team."
Harry watched Ron for a second, then nodded. "Alright. But don't trust him."
*****
Ron arrived at Malfoy Manor while the morning was still early. He brought with him four clerks, his 'team'. The Malfoys were turning over all their dark artifacts and the clerks were here to keep track of the inventory and to transport the goods. Ron himself was present to deal with any artifacts that might be, for lack of a better word, active. In other words, he would be dealing with any artifacts that might need dealing with.
Ron still had difficulty believing the Malfoys would turn over their artifacts willingly. He was on edge, remembering Harry's words about the possibility that this was a trap.
A house elf answered the door, and Ron had a bad feeling in his stomach. He was sure that this elf was mistreated, just as the Malfoys had mistreated Dobby. The elf lead Ron to a drawing room where Lucius, Narcissa, and Malfoy were sitting and waiting.
"Ah," Malfoy said. "It's about time. You're nearly ten minutes late."
Ron didn't miss the glare that Lucius passed to Malfoy. Lucius stood and stared down at Ron. "I see they're sending out children to greet us. Lovely to be taken seriously. At any rate, my wife and I will not watch this travesty progress. We're going out." Without a further word, Lucius and Narcissa left the room.
"Don't mind them," Malfoy said, "My father and I haven't been seeing eye to eye of late. It was my idea to call you and he doesn't like it. I'll admit I was expecting someone more... experienced. Some of these artifacts are very dark."
"I'm a trained Auror," Ron protested. He was surprised, though, that this had been Malfoy's idea. He had assumed it was some sort of order issued on the part of the Ministry.
"This way then." Malfoy lead the way.
Ron spent all morning and into the early afternoon sorting and defeating dark objects by Malfoy's side. It wasn't easy work. More than one book physically attacked him, and several other various objects turned out to be hexed or poisonous. The collection was quite impressive.
"Sorry about that," Malfoy said as he regrew Ron's arm to its normal size. An innocent-seeming quill had shrunken it. "Really, nothing here is what it seems."
Ron agreed; after all, he'd had an almost pleasant time working with Malfoy. Thus, when Malfoy suggested they break for lunch, Ron was only too happy to share sandwiches with the young man. The reappearance of house elves, however, reminded Ron of Dobby and he found himself once again remembering what awful people the Malfoys were.
"Squeaky, can I borrow you for a second?" Malfoy addressed the elf. "Please fetch me the notebook on my nightstand."
The elf ran off and Malfoy turned back to Ron. He was smiling, and the expression was odd on his face.
"Sorry about my father's comment earlier. You've turned out to be rather competent, Weasley."
"Errr, thanks."
Squeaky returned then, but alas, she had brought the wrong notebook. Ron grimaced, waiting for Malfoy to beat her. Instead he sighed and said, "I'm sorry, I meant the leather-bound one. I should have been more specific."
More telling, though, to Ron, trained as he was with a perceptive Auror's eye, was the fact that Squeaky had not cringed away from Malfoy. She had not expected to be hit. When Squeaky returned once again, Malfoy handed over the notebook to Ron. "It's not very cursed, but there is a mild one on it. It was my diary back in school. Of course I'd appreciate no one read the thing. I'm really quite ashamed of much of what's in it. I was quite rude and very haughty I fear. Time, and perhaps defeat, have taught me a few lessons."
Ron just gaped.
"Well." Malfoy was still holding out the journal. "I wouldn't trust it to someone else. I'm sure Granger would think that any book deserves reading. And Potter would probably expect it to be full of plots and plans. It's not. But I know you won't look."
"I... won't," Ron stammered, not sure why he didn't plan to, but he knew he wouldn't betray Malfoy's trust. "You do have my friends right, though," Ron relaxed. "Harry would probably try to decode the words to see if you had some plot for world domination written between the lines."
Malfoy laughed and Ron noticed how pleasantly his eyes glittered when he did.
"I'm glad they didn't send him then," Malfoy said.
"Me too," answered Ron.