Please Be There If I Remember

Chapter Thirty-Two: Monopoly

"Don't worry," Harry said with a shiver. "I know what it feels like already—I'm not great at it."

"That's what we're here for, isn't it?" Draco said lightly then, without much warning, he pulled out his wand to Harry's temple and cast the spell, staring deep at Green Eyes.

"Legilimens."

Draco's subconscious surged towards Harry's, and he had the smallest amount of reprieve to feel proud at the fact that it had worked before he entered Harry's mind.

There was a little resistance at first, but soon Draco got through the embarrassingly weak barriers without much struggle. The moment he felt memories start to pour into his mind like they were his own—even though he knew they were Harry's by the sheened tint to them and the swirling, hazy colours—he pulled out of his mind before he could see any more.

He didn't want to wait for Harry to try and push him out, since he didn't quite seem to know how to do that yet based on the little he said about Snape, even though he was dying to see what Harry thought about him through his memories.

He resisted the urge anyway.

Draco came back to himself without too much hassle, and he regained himself as he got used to his surroundings. He felt the soft padding below him on the chair, sinking down below his weight, and the wallpaper on the walls which had some leafy pattern that looked suspiciously like an old pureblood family tree but without names.

Harry was breathing deeply, gulping up air and clenching his fists on the chair and opening them again, eyes downcast and posture sharp.

Draco grew worried. "Did I hurt you?"

Harry shook himself out of his stupor by literally shaking his whole body, his hair shifting above his head.

"No, I just thought I'd do better. I barely even stopped you," he whispered.

Draco relaxed in his chair, not aware that he had sat up out of it—scared that he had somehow hurt Harry, his heart beating fast and pounding in his chest.

"Good," he said, sucking in a deep breath just like Harry had. "And honestly, Harry. Don't beat yourself up about it—I would be absolutely astounded if you managed to fight me off on the first try, considering that Snape is a bloody awful person to be teaching you something so personal."

Harry nodded, though he still looked quite downtrodden. Suddenly his face lit up in a blinding grin.

"You did it though!" He said happily (with a hint of bitterness behind it, but they both pretended not to have heard it).

Draco smiled. "As if you had any doubt."

"Well..."

Draco gasped dramatically. "You wound me, Harry. That was bloody awesome, and I will not hear anything else about the matter."

Harry snorted and a small pink blush littered his cheeks like freckles. Just like every other time he spoke, Draco knew it was at the fact that he called Harry Harry instead of Potter. And if the same thing happened when Harry said Draco, the name floating through Harry's mouth and coming out like the sound of an angel his heart fluttering every time, then Draco would deny it, even on his deathbed.

"I still should be better, though," he said, the frown coming back—although this time Draco thought it was more akin to a pout.

He rolled his eyes. "That's like saying I should be able to cast a Patronus as a third-year without any prior knowledge of the spell," Draco said sarcastically, trying to help make Harry see reason, and that very few people at such a young age would have fully formed occlumency shields that can hold out a skilled legilimens like Snape, nonetheless.