Chapter Text
“For fucks sake, Potter!” Malfoy hissed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Focus!”
“I am focusing Malfoy! I’ve been focusing this whole bloody time!” Harry bit back furiously, the frustration that had been slowly building inside of him for the past hour finally reaching breaking point. “Did you ever think that maybe it’s your fault not mine?”
It was their third session and Harry was no closer at getting into Malfoy’s mind than he had been to start with. In a desperate effort to make it work, Malfoy had suggested that they changed tactics and that he should try to use Legillimency on Harry instead, so the boy would experience the sensation and how it was supposed to feel.
However, this new method was to no avail. Each time the blonde tried to delve into Harry’s mind, his instincts kicked in and it was as if his brain built up a brick wall, violently pushing Malfoy out.
“Don’t be preposterous, Potter.” Malfoy said flippantly, as though the very idea was so far fetched that Harry should have his head checked just for suggesting such a thing. “No, no this is all you. You just need to clear your mind and stop worrying about what I might see.”
The phrase clear your mind sent Harry flashbacks of his disastrous lessons with Snape and he failed to suppress a shudder. Malfoy noticed and clearly misinterpreted the movement, associating it with his previous words.
“Look, I understand alright?” His voice was softer than Harry had ever heard it before, soft in a way he never thought possible with Malfoy. “Loathsome as I am to admit it, I was the same way at the beginning. I had bloody Bellatrix of all people teaching me and I didn’t fancy sharing any of my thoughts with that maniac. Before the sessions, I would make a list of all the topics I wanted to keep off limits and visualise that I was locking them away in a box. Then I’d chose a random, harmless memory to focus on instead, something trivial or boring usually that she wouldn’t take interest in.”
“I’ve tried that.” Harry admitted. “But every time I know I’m not supposed to think about something, it’s all I can think about.”
“Why don’t we come up with a safe word? That way, if it gets too deep, you can say the safe word and cover up the thought or memory with something else.”
Harry nodded slowly at the suggestion, testing out the idea in his head. “Yeah alright. That could work actually.”
Malfoy let out a sigh of relief at the prospect of finally getting somewhere. “Thank Merlin for that. You should choose the word, you’ll be more likely to remember it if it’s personal to you.”
“What about…” Harry’s brain went blank for a second before something popped into his head and he grinned. “…Ferret has a nice ring too it don’t you think?”
Malfoy was not amused.
“I’ll have you know that was a deeply traumatic experience, Potter! To think that absolute psychopath was ever hired! Transfiguring students into rodents left and right! Honestly Dumbledore seemed to have some kind of fetish for hiring teachers who- would you stop laughing?”
In the end and after much careful deliberation, they decided on treacle tart for the safe word. Harry had attempted to justify this by explaining that it was his favourite dessert, to which Malfoy’s expression had become unreadable and he muttered, “Of course it bloody is” under his breath with no explanation.
Harry settled in the chair, relaxing his mind as best he could. He began to visualise a lake, cool and glittering when the sun hit it at certain angles. Malfoy had explained to him earlier that it helped to create a space for your mind to go to when starting out, like a waiting room between your thoughts. If anything went wrong, that was the place to go back to.
As he basked in the blue water, he heard Malfoy’s soft whisper of Legillimens and the familiar feeling of someone entering his head. It was subtle that if he’d been in the street, he could easily mistake it for a gust of wind or the beginnings of a headache. But he knew better.
Don’t fight it, don’t fight it. He repeated like a mantra, focusing all of his attention instead on the water. The feeling of it between his toes, the rays of sun on his back. The surface rippled and he knew Malfoy was there too, that he’d finally managed to enter Harry’s mind.
And then Harry was falling, falling down into the murky depths of the water. But it wasn’t water anymore, the liquid was beginning to form into the walls and ceilings of privet drive.
There was a small boy sitting on the floor, with messy dark hair in desperate need of a trim and green eyes filled with unshed tears. His arms were hugging his knees whilst a red faced man screamed at him.
“Look at me whilst I talk to you, boy!” He boomed, his enormous moustache wobbling with rage. “I’ve just had a very interesting phone call from your teacher! How can you explain that?”
“I didn’t mean to!” Young Harry pleaded, “Really I didn’t! It just happened, I was trying to get away from Dudley and his friends, I have no idea how I got on the roof! One minute I was there and the next I was gone!”
“Don’t lie to me freak!” Vernon Dursley spat furiously. “You will tell them that you climbed up there, that you were bullying poor Dudley and hid up on the roof on the roof to avoid getting caught!”
“But I didn’t!”
That seemed to be the last straw for Mr Dursley, as he grabbed Harry’s collar, picking him up off the floor and slamming him against the kitchen table.
“That is what you will tell them! Do you understand me?” When Harry didn’t reply, he shook him violently. “DO YOU?”
“Potter!” A voice from far away called his name, he knew that voice but he couldn’t remember where from. He was transfixed on the scene before him.
"Yes, sir! It was me, I just climbed up there by myself and then lied about it! That’s what I’ll tell them.” Young Harry babbled desperately.
“Potter! Potter we need to go!” There was that voice again. Funny. It was more urgent this time.
“Good.” Mr Dursley’s smile twisted cruelly. “That’s what I thought.”
He began to drag Harry towards the cupboard, but just before he got there, he turned to face the cowering child, fists raised.
“For fucks sake Potter! TREACLE TART!”
The memory exploded all around him and suddenly Harry was back in the classroom, panting with shock. Malfoy was sitting opposite him in a similar state.
“Well,” Malfoy breathed, running a hand through rumpled hair. “That was pretty good for a first attempt, as good as can be expected anyway.”
Harry gaped at him slightly. “Are we…are we not going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what Potter?” Malfoy said, so offhandedly that Harry would think they had just witnessed a completely different thing if it wasn’t for the way that Malfoy’s hand’s were shaking slightly.
“Seriously? No comment about the saviours shitty childhood or something like that? I thought you’d love to be able to lord something like that over me.”
Malfoy shifted a little, looking serious. “Potter, I am in no place to judge bad childhood’s believe me. It’s normal for traumatic memories to pop up during these sessions. I have no doubt that you’ll be seeing some things in my head I’d much rather be kept private.”
He wasn’t sure how to react to that, part of him was desperate for a fight, adrenaline was pumping through his veins and it would be so easy to get under Malfoy’s skin, to push him into battle.
But was it worth it anymore?
The war was over, the dead weren’t going to come back and choices had already been made. What was the point of falling back into the patterns which had started everything in the first place? He was so damn tired of holding onto this resentment.
“Why did you do it?” Harry’s voice didn’t sound angry, just weary and Malfoy shifted in his seat awkwardly.
“Oh Merlin I knew this was going to happen at some point, but do we really need to do it now?” Harry didn’t answer and he let out a long sigh. “Alright then. No point in delaying the inevitable I suppose. We need tea, no one should have to have these sort of conversations without it.”
He waved his wand a small table appeared between the two of them, complete with two steaming mugs and a plate of sugared biscuits. Malfoy took a sip and raised an eyebrow when Harry made no move to drink it.
“Really Potter, I thought we’d moved past this. It’s not poison I promise.”
“Thats not what I- never mind.” Harry stuttered, picking it up and taking a tentative sip. It tasted like mint.
“To understand why I made certain decisions, you’ll have to understand how I was raised.” Malfoy began. “For the first eleven years of my life, I was raised to believe that pureblood were superior over others. I had no reason to doubt or question this, everyone I knew had the same mindset, I only ever played with pureblood children and went to pureblood parties. Why would I ever assume that what my parent’s were telling me was anything but the truth? People envied my mother and respected my father like they were gods and I adored them.
But then I went to Hogwarts and was suddenly surrounded by the people I’d be warned against my entire life. It was quite the culture shock to be perfectly honest. I was all set to play the part of the perfect Malfoy heir, when all of a sudden there’s this tiny boy with the most infuriatingly messy hair and clothes three sizes too big for him who everyone’s fawning over instead. You might not believe this but I was actually incredibly excited to meet you.”
Harry almost choked on his tea at this whilst Malfoy looked at him bemusedly. “You what?”
“I’d grown up on hearing stories about the famous Harry Potter, finding out I was going to school with him was like finding out I would be sharing classes with Merlin. Naturally, I assumed we would be best friends.”
At this, Harry really did choke on his tea and waved for Malfoy to continue whilst he attempted to stop coughing.
“But we both know how that turned out. I’d never been rejected before, it was very confusing. I was determined to beat you, to prove myself and impress my father but I never quite managed to. I mean really Potter? You killed a basilisk at twelve! How exactly does one top that? It would have been easier if I hated you.”
“You didn’t hate me?” Harry asked curiously at the last part and Malfoy blushed, suddenly very interested at picking at his sleeve.
“I meant- well obviously I hated you but I sort of respected you at the same time.” He said quickly, but Harry had the strangest feeling that he wasn’t telling the full truth. “Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Two days before the end of fifth year, my mother took me out of school unexpectedly, but instead of taking me back to the manor, we went to a house we owned in Italy. It was there that she told me that Voldemort was staying in my home and that I was going to become a Death Eater. It wasn’t a surprise, I knew he was back and that it was just a matter of time.” He laughed bitterly. “Do you know, I was almost excited? I thought, ‘Here’s the chance I’ve been waiting for, now my father will finally have a son he can be proud of.’ I felt that way for about a month. Then I realised I was trapped. I had nowhere to go, no one I could ask for help-“
“Dumbledore!” Harry cut across him. “Dumbledore offered you help.”
Malfoy blanched but continued. “How would I have known if what he was saying was the truth? This was the man who I was told was my enemy. The man who villianised me and me friends simply because we were in Slytherin? Why would I fight on the side of people who hated me? And even if he was to help me, would he have helped my parents? My father may not be a good man but he is still my father and despite everything, I would die three times over for him. I know I made the wrong choice but it was the only choice I had. So that’s why I did it Potter. Because I couldn’t let my parent’s die. And if that makes me a coward, so be it.”
“Did you know it was me? At the Manor?”
“Of course I knew it was you. I would recognise you anywhere.” Malfoy said and Harry felt a slight shiver run down his spine. He was overwhelmed, trying to imagine it from Malfoy’s perspective.
Would he have done the same if it was his parents? Remus and Sirius? Ron and Hermione? The answer scared him so he took another sip of tea purely so he had something to do with his hands.
“What were you hiding from him? With Legillimency?” He asked the question which had been bothering him for days.
Malfoy looked at him directly this time, grey eyes boring into green.
“Sometimes I care about people I shouldn’t care about.”