Harry had greatly taken advantage of the informal air of their setting, structure to the wind. While it had proved not significantly more effective, Harry felt like it had served its purpose of offering a new interpretation of the data at hand. He had all but unraveled the journals, picked them apart to isolate anything that might prove relevant, discarding the bulk mass. In the back of his mind, he realized he would have to rely on Draco and his magic to put the files back together.<br/>When he returned to the desk, it was well into the afternoon and in the warmth of the room, he had finally shed a layer of clothes. The sweater laid abandoned over the arm of a park bench, and Harry had pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbows. Marking his return, Harry placed both hands on the lip if the table, leaning slightly over Draco's work. He was unsurprised to find him reading through the journal entry from his hospitalization after the war, almost certain Draco was looking for mentions of his temperature.<br/>Unintentionally, a chuckle escaped him.<br/>"Can I pick your brain?" Harry asked, smile toying at the corner of his mouth as his eyes found Draco. It hadn't been his immediate intention, but he thought Draco could do with a break from that specific task. "I could use your input, if you have the time."