Dear Naima, this is Moretta.
I got your review for 'Snapshots' (thank you, by the way, reviews make me ridiculously happy) and my good friend Aloeart told me she's been introducing you to the wonderful world of fanfic. I haven't done HP for a while, but I hope you enjoy this little one-shot.
Happy birthday, wizard hugs and chocolate – have a magical day.

Harry was enjoying a day of relaxing through his shift. No sudden murders, he'd finished his paperwork, the only thing on his desk right at this moment was a mug of tea and a slice of chocolate cake. Even Ron had got through all the forms he had to fill out, and was now leaning back in his chair, legs on his desk, hands behind his head, enjoying a mid-afternoon nap.

One of the young secretaries poked her head through the door just as Harry took his first bite of cake, "Auror Potter?"

"Yes, Elisabeth?" He said, managing somehow to not spray chocolate crumbs everywhere.

"The Department for Experimental Potions is asking for you. They say it's urgent."

"Oh." Harry put his fork on his plate and downed his tea, "Tell them I'm on my way."

He gathered his Auror robes and badge and shoved them on as he rushed to the closest Ministry lift.

He had been down to the Department for Experimental Potions a few times, when Draco wanted to show off or needed a test subject (not that he was told about being a test subject beforehand, but hey, the things one does to keep the peace at home), but he had only been summoneddown there once. Draco's potion had exploded, causing the rest of the lab to follow pattern seconds later. Harry had been part of the First Response team who were supposed to clear the area and search for others, but he couldn't, not with Draco lying, red and black, on the ground. He had followed the First Response Healing Unit back to St Mungo's, where they had refused to let him follow them into the Emergency Ward. He was later told that Draco had suffered second- and third-degree burns, and had some broken bones from being thrown across the room in the explosion.

So Harry's thoughts in that lift down were not the happiest.

When he got to the right floor, things seemed normal – no smoke, no odd smells, no people screaming.

"Auror Potter!"

The Head of Department waved him over and walked him through the long corridor where the various labs were.

"He's been like this for the past half hour and we haven't been able to calm him. We don't know what else to do."

"What happened? Another potion explosion?"

"Yes, but..." the Head of Department stopped them in front of a door and sighed, "It was an entirely new compound that he was working with."

"Let me guess – very volatile, very fragile, very experimental?"

The Head raised an eyebrow, "Quite. Although not quite as volatile or experimental as last time."

Harry coughed, "Well, at least I know he's alive and doing relatively well. If he wasn't, there would be more of us down here."

"There is that," agreed the Head, "but you'll see why we brought you down here. Now, Auror, ready?"

Harry took a deep breath, opened the door and went in, quickly shutting the door behind him.

The lab seemed fine. Messy, but fine. There were quills and pieces of parchments strewn all over the place, a large blackboard on a wall covered in equations and Arithmancy runes, glass test tubes and beakers with all sorts of bubbling liquids. On the other side of the room were the cauldrons, all simmering away except one. The distillation columns in the corner always reminded Harry of the science labs in Mad Scientist films. The fact that the liquid currently being distilled was bright blue just added to the sense of sci-fi.

"Draco?"

Over by the cauldrons stood Draco, robes gently blackened around the edges, soot in his hair and smudges on his cheeks.

"Harry!"

He seemed overjoyed to see him, bouncing – there was no other word for it – across the room to greet him.

"Are you alright?"

Draco grinned. An actual, real, honest smile, the kind that showed off his teeth. Harry blinked and took a step back, which later proved to be futile.

"I am more than alright, I'm wonderful!"

Harry's hand twitched, ready to grab his wand and start shooting hexes, "You're, wait, you're ok?"

Draco put his hands on Harry's shoulders and shook him, "Of course I am, I solved it!"

He was happy. And dirty. That didn't add up, so he slowly made his way (no sudden movements, no harsh sounds) to the line of cauldrons.

Harry peered into the exploded one, "Solved what?"

But Draco wasn't listening. He was scribbling on a piece of parchment, checking on cauldron number 3 and chuckling to himself.

Harry was now very worried, "Draco?"

"Ah, Harry. Look!" Draco gestured to the cauldron, "My potion! I did it! Eight months, but I did it!"

So he looked. Harry walked to where he was and looked into the bubbling mixture, until Draco pulled him away with a quiet, "Three, two, one."

And the potion exploded.

Draco laughed.

Harry may or may not have been more scared of the laugh than the explosion.

The potion splattered onto invisible walls and slid down them back into the cauldron.

"Oh, Harry, Harry, it works! All that work, eight months, oh, it works, it works!"

And before he knew what was happening, Draco had clasped his face in his hands and kissed him, before going back to writing on his parchment.

Harry stood, for a moment, completely still.

There was a knock on the door. Draco didn't seem to hear it, humming as he was.

Harry shook himself and went to the door. It was the Head of Department.

"See what I mean?"

Harry nodded.

"Is he safe?"

He nodded again.

"Auror, are you sure?"

"Yes. He's fine," he said, smiling, "he's just a little overjoyed. How long has he been working on this potion?"

"The best part of eight or nine months, I think. He finished it?"

"I think so."

"Ah, just the man I wanted to see!" Draco appeared next to Harry, holding his piece of parchment, "This, sir, is the report. Now I'd like to request some time off – a week at most."

The Head didn't even hesitate to grab the parchment, "As of when?"

"Now." Said Draco and, not even waiting for a response, he grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him out of the Department, "Come on Potter, I don't want to see any walls other than our own for the next seven days. Preferably the ones in the bedroom."

Well, he thought, shrugging at the Head of Department behind him, Harry wasn't going to argue with that.