As it turned out, they didn't get fired. They got promoted.

"That evil little bastard," Malfoy muttered.

"It wasn't Wiffleston," Harry said dully as the Department applauded their news. "He's not clever enough to think of this."

Wiffleston stood smugly at the front of the room, waiting for the applause to die down.

This whole promotion stunk of Kingsley. Kingsley knew that Harry and Malfoy were bored, and he was sick of their careless mistakes. Shoving them into close quarters with Wiffleston - who would now be their direct superior - and giving them more work was a carefully calculated move designed to remind them who was in charge and hopefully kick them back into gear.

"Next on the agenda," Wiffleston continued when everyone was quiet. "Toilet paper. I've received several complaints that people are either not replacing the rolls, or are replacing them incorrectly. Might I remind you-"

Harry wordlessly handed Malfoy a brightly wrapped sweet. Malfoy tore the wrapper and shoved it in his mouth immediately, a blissful expression crossing his face as soon as he began chewing. Harry unwrapped his own Tunable Toffee and chewed quickly until he found a radio station he liked. Harry had to admit, the latest Weasley's Wizard Wheezes invention had saved his sanity more than once during a Ministry Meeting. Wiffleston was likely to drone on for at least another forty-five minutes, and without the distraction of music playing from the convenience of Harry's own head, Harry was at risk of doing something stupid.

Despite Kingsley's intention to shove Harry and Malfoy back into line, Harry was more inclined to just quit. It wasn't as though he needed the money, but something always stopped him from actually giving notice. He would never say it out loud, but part of him was afraid to find out what he would do with his time when there was nothing forcing him to get out of bed in the morning.

Something nudged against his leg. He looked down and saw nothing. Looking up at Wiffleston, he gauged from the man's gestures that he was still discussing the most effective way to replace a toilet roll, and bent down to look under the table.

There was nothing there except for a small vial that looked as though it had fallen out of his pocket. He frowned at the vial. It was glowing like the one in the glove box from the other day. But that wasn't possible. He'd left it in there, hadn't he?

He picked up the vial and looked at it. It was warm to touch.

Harry nudged Malfoy. "Isn't this from the car?" He whispered.

"Wheel around and around and around and around," muttered Malfoy under his breath, singing with his eyes closed and completely ignoring Harry.

Harry nudged him again. He opened his eyes and glared at Harry. Harry waved the vial under his nose.

He moved to smack the vial away, but then stopped and frowned at it. "Isn't that the vial from the car?" he whispered.

"I think so," Harry said.

"What did you bring it in here for? It's probably an explosive. It could go off any second."

Harry shook his head. "I didn't bring it in. I found it on the floor."

Malfoy smirked and opened his mouth, but before he could spurt some derisive comment they suddenly realised that everyone was watching them.

Harry spat out his Tunable Toffee. The music stopped immediately and he could hear that the room was completely quiet.

Wiffleston looked like a tomato about to pop. "When you are both paying attention," he said furiously. "We can conclude the meeting."

Harry noticed Malfoy was still chewing his toffee, a politely attentive expression on his face.

"Smug bastard," Harry muttered, knowing Malfoy couldn't hear.

It had been a shock to both of them when they were assigned as partners four years ago, and an even bigger shock to realise that they actually worked well together. Okay, so maybe they still shot insults at each other whenever possible, and maybe Malfoy was still a dickhead when it came to anything even remotely moral, and maybe they both needed a little work when it came to doing things by the book - which, as far as Harry figured, was written by Aurors anyway - but apart from that they were a pretty good team. And, for Harry, it meant that he never had to deal with a starry eyed, star-struck partner, which was more important to him than fifty well-mannered Aurors.

Back in Malfoy's cubicle, they examined the vial.

"Not that I don't believe you, Potter," Malfoy said drily. "But I've never heard of a potion that moved on its own. Exploded on it's own? Yes. Calmly followed someone into their office and tapped politely on their leg? No."

Harry grunted. "So you think I'm nuts," he said.

"In a word? Yes."

Harry picked up the potion and stared at it. "I just don't know what it-" Before he could finish the sentence, the potion whacked him in the head.

He dropped his jaw, stunned. "Did you see that?"

Malfoy stared at the vial, his eyes wide, and shook his head slowly. "No, I didn't." He paused. "Did it just whack you on the head?"

The potion smacked Harry on the jaw. Before he could fight back, something very large slogged him in the back of the head and everything went black.

When Harry woke up, he was in the unmistakable sterile walls of St. Mungos. He sat up and saw Malfoy chewing happily on a box of chocolates that had obviously been left on Harry's nightstand.

"Oi, those are mine," Harry said.

"I don't see your name on them," Malfoy muttered around a mouthful of chocolate.

"It's right there on the card!"

"You're delirious, Potter. Go back to sleep."

Harry groaned as his head gave a sudden twinge of pain. He laid back. "What happened?" he asked.

"It's a funny story," Malfoy said, throwing Harry a peppermint flavoured chocolate and taking two for himself. "When I said that I had never heard of a potion that moved on its own, I can now confidently say that I have heard of fifty."

"Fifty?" Harry asked, confused.

"Fifty," Malfoy agreed. "And they all hit you on the back of the head at once. Now, the reason why they did this - and how - is currently a matter of some debate."

"And if you were to take an educated guess?" Harry asked impatiently.

"I would say it's because your head has finally grown so large that it's developed its own force of gravity."

"Very funny."

"I know. I've been waiting hours for you to wake up so I could tell you that one."

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned again. "You mean they really have no idea what the potions were?"

Malfoy finally stopped giving the box of chocolates his undivided attention and looked at Harry. He smirked, but there was a strange look in his eye that Harry couldn't identify.

"They really have no idea, Potter. But I swiped one of the potions before they took them off for testing, and while you were getting your beauty sleep I had a bit of a closer look."

"And?"

"And it's an immunity potion, so the way it acted almost makes sense," Malfoy glanced at him and rolled his eyes at the blank expression on Harry's face. "Immunity potions are most frequently used by Aurors. We've never had to work in a situation that would need one yet, but an example is if you were walking into a building that had been thoroughly trapped. You wouldn't want to necessarily rely only on your wand to get past the traps safely. So you'd have a bag of these with you, but if you've got Fiendfyre coming at you, you don't want to be fumbling for the right potion, so they're brewed to recognise the presence of what they're providing immunity against and to glow or vibrate or do something to attract your attention."

"Well, hitting me in the back of the head certainly attracted my attention," Harry muttered.

Malfoy nodded. "We have a particularly zealous brew, it would seem."

Harry snorted. "So what is it providing immunity against?"

"Not sure yet," Malfoy said, looking hesitant. "And there's something else-"

The door opened and a nurse came in. "Oh good, you're awake," she said to Harry with a smile. "It was a particularly good hit. You were out for a while."

"Yeah, it was," Harry said with a grin, rubbing the back of his head.

She came over to the bed and waved her wand over him. "Just doing a couple of final checks and you'll be free to go."

"And when are you free to go?" Malfoy interrupted, leaning back in his chair and smirking suggestively at the nurse.

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. The nurse looked up at him in surprise and, to Harry's dismay, giggled. "Not for a while yet," she said, turning back to Harry. "'Fraid I'm in for the late shift tonight."

"And what about tomorrow?" Malfoy said, unperturbed. "Surely you'd be free around eight o'clock?"

"I'd have to check," she said, glancing back at Malfoy with a smile. "There you are," she said to Harry. "All done. I'll sign you out."

"Thank you," Harry said, pushing back the covers and reaching for his clothes, which he could see on the chair behind Malfoy.

The nurse left him to change. As soon as she left the room he shot an amused glance at Malfoy.

"'When are you free to go'?" he mimicked incredulously. "Really? You sound like you got that line out of a book on the cheesiest pickup lines of the twentieth century."

Malfoy snorted. "At least I wasn't smiling at her and trying to look sorry for myself like a right git." He rubbed the back of his head dramatically. "Oh, poor me, I'm Harry Potter and I'm always getting mysteriously injured. Hold me."

Harry wacked him over the head. "You've got no chance, she was just being polite."

"Polite, my arse. She was all over me, Potter."

Harry snorted. "You really think you're something, don't you?"

Malfoy stuck his nose in the air. "I land far more dates than you, even without a famous scar."

"Want a make a bet on that?"

Malfoys eyes gleamed. "One hundred galleons. I'll have more dates than you by the end of the year."

"Pfft," Harry muttered. "Done."

"Confident, aren't we, Potter?"

Harry ignored him and changed out of his hospital gown. "So what was the 'something else' you mentioned?"

"Oh, right," Malfoy frowned. "I'm not sure, but I think I recognise the potion maker. Every potion maker has a distinct style, and this one is a bit strange."

"In what way?"

"If it's the person I think it is, they died more than a century ago. All their potions should be well gone by now."

Harry frowned. "So where did the smugglers get it?"

"I'm not sure, Potter. But I really want to find out."

An owl swooped in the window just as Harry had finished getting dressed. Malfoy untied the letter and opened it curiously, a frown slowly crossing his face as he read.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Well they've finally identified the potion," he said. "But that's all they're saying. We're to get back to the Ministry immediately."

"Nice to see they're sympathetic to the sick and injured," Harry said, following him down the hall.

"Potter, if they sent you a fruit basket every time you got a boo boo, we'd all be out of a Christmas bonus. Now where's that nurse?"

Happy New Year everyone! Hope you all had a great New Years Eve :)