Finding My Way Back

“Today’s lesson is going to be a bit different,” Snape drawled, lifting his wand and pointing it at Draco. “Mr. Malfoy,” he began, searching through the other students until his eyes found green. He smirked, turning his wand toward the boy. “And Mr. Potter.”

Potter rolled his eyes and stood up, making his way to the front where Draco was already standing. The rest of the students turned their eager attention on the two boys, curious what Snape had in mind for them.

“Today I am going to show you the proper methods of Occlumency,” Snape instructed his class, walking toward the back of the room, his students’ eyes remaining focused on the two well-known enemies. “Unfortunately, this lesson also requires the use of Legilimency, which, though not entirely illegal, a professor is not allowed to use it on any of their students.”

Potter breathed a sigh of relief, his body relaxing a little.

“That being said, Malfoy, as a newly recognized Legilimens, you will use your skill to extract Potter’s memories.”

Potter snapped his head in Snape’s direction, his eyes widening in shock. Draco smirked, knowing Potter wouldn’t be able to hold him out, excited for the chance to weaken him. He was already too weak as it was, his face still badly beaten from yesterday.

“Potter, your job will be to keep him out by using the techniques I will tell you,” Snape continued, a playful smirk on his face.

“Sir, you know I ca-” Potter frantically stopped, shaking his head and turning away from their professor.

Draco furrowed his eyebrows, looking between the two. Strange. How would Snape know if he could do Occlumency or not? They hadn’t even begun teaching those lessons yet. He had only learned Legilimency because of his father and aunt forcing it upon him a few years ago, wanting the Dark Lord to be pleased with his skill at such a young age.

“Afraid of what I’ll find, Potter?” he suddenly sneered at him. “Afraid I’ll know the truth about how you got like that?” he then smirked, pointing his wand at his face.

Potter narrowed his eyes, his hand gripping his wand a little tighter. “No,” he hissed. “I won’t let you.”

“Sir, this isn’t right,” Granger suddenly called out, standing up from her seat.

Snape turned toward the insufferable girl and glared. “Questioning my lessons, Miss Granger?”

“No, it’s just,” she paused, biting her lower lip. “This isn’t right. He’s too weak. He won’t be able to defend himself.”

“Which enemies tend to not care about,” Snape replied, returning his attention to the two boys in front. “Occlumency is about shielding your mind. Weak or strong, you must learn how to protect it at all times.”

Draco glanced over at Potter, noticing him shivering a little in his stance. Why was he so scared what he would find? It wasn’t like the Golden Boy had any skeletons in his closet. He was the fucking Savior; his life was heaven compared to his. Bastard.

“You may begin when ready,” Draco suddenly heard Snape announce.

In that next moment, Draco gripped his wand tighter, raising it higher and shouting, “Legilimens.”

He had no idea it would be so fast. Potter’s mind was completely unguarded, allowing him to enter with ease. Already curious about his life when he was younger, Draco hurriedly searched through those memories, wanting to fish out anything that could be used against him later.

He was two, crying against a wooden door in a small dark room…he was five, crying on a small cot in that same dark room…he was six, a large hand coming down and smacking him on his face… a fist punching him in the stomach…hands strangling his neck.

Draco jumped out of Potter’s mind, eyes opened wide in shock. He watched the boy drop to the floor, heavily panting from the trip down memory lane. Draco chewed on his lower lip, slowly looking over at Snape.

“Again,” Snape simply nodded.

“Sir, I-” Draco began, quickly closing his mouth when he saw the man’s glare.

He turned back toward Potter and sighed, lifting his wand again. He faintly heard Snape’s advice for Potter to block him as he entered his mind once more.

He was being shoved inside a small cupboard…more fists punching him…he was sitting on the cot, trembling in fear when the door opened…he was ten, whip lashes crisscrossing his entire back.

“No,” Draco gasped, exiting Potter’s mind again. He frantically shook his head and looked over at Snape, pleading with his eyes not to return. He didn’t want to see anymore; he couldn’t see anymore.

“Again,” Snape persistently said.

“Professor, he’s too weak,” Draco said, hoping he could disguise his worry with annoyance. “He’s not even trying.”

“Continue,” Snape drawled, looking down at Potter. “Potter, this will not stop until you can at least block one thing from him.”

“No,” Harry whispered, keeping his head lowered. “I can’t.”

“Again,” Snape barked.

Draco took a deep breath before plunging forward, deciding to look at his more recent memories instead. He knew those had to be more pleasant.

He was fifteen, sitting in the Prefect’s bathroom, with a knife up to his wrist…he was on his bed, sobbing into a pillow…he was writing in a journal, crying…he was laughing and smiling.

Draco arched an eyebrow when he finally noticed a happy memory. He dug a little deeper, hoping to uncover a little more. He could feel something starting to fight back, figuring Potter was finally trying to close his mind.

He was sitting on his bed, laughing at a shadowed figure across from him…he was in Charms class, smiling at another shadowed figure… hands traveling over the naked chest of the figure…lips grazing the skin of the shadow’s neck.

“No!” Potter suddenly screamed, jolting Draco out of his head. “No, stop! Get out! Get out! It hurts!”

The room went completely silent as everyone stared at Potter lying motionless on the ground. Snape moved closer to the fallen boy and knelt down, checking his pulse. He sighed and shook his head, looking up at Draco. “What happened? What did you see?” he questioned.

“I…I…” Draco hesitated, looking around the classroom at all the curious stares. “He was…I…he was…”

“Get him to the hospital wing,” Snape ordered, standing up and looking around the classroom. “Zabini, help him.”

***
“What did you see?” Blaise asked, as they made their way to the hospital wing. “What made him act like that?”

Draco shook his head, turning another corner. “Nothing,” he answered. “He was happy,” he explained. “If anything, it should have been his earlier memories that did this to him.”

“What do you mean?”

They walked a little faster down the hallway, spotting the hospital wing a few feet away. Draco sighed, looking over at his best friend. He was about to tell him everything when he stopped and shook his head, gazing back down at Potter. He didn’t understand why but he couldn’t. Oddly enough, he felt for him in that moment, realizing how they actually had something in common with each other now.

“Forget it,” he mumbled as they walked into the hospital wing.

“Oh dear,” Pomfrey suddenly gasped, moving closer. “Put him over here,” she then instructed, pointing toward an empty bed to the right of them.

They lay him on the bed and stood back a bit, allowing her to take over. Draco wasn’t ready to leave yet, wanting to make sure he was okay. Again that confused him. Why did he care if he was going to be okay? Just yesterday he was excited about him getting beaten up. He didn’t even care if the boy died.

He jerked his head to the side, staring at the wall a few feet away. No, that wasn’t true. As much as he joked and prayed for it to happen, deep down he knew he didn’t want that. Even if the boy was a git, an annoying self-righteous git at that, he was still just a boy like him. They weren’t fighters; they weren’t soldiers. They were just fucking children.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Pomfrey suddenly asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

He looked over at her and frowned, quickly glancing in Blaise’s direction. He didn’t want to say anything in front of his Slytherin friend, aware of the rumors that would start if he did.

It seemed the matron understood, nodding and looking back down at Potter. She sighed, trailing her wand down his body. “He was still pretty weak from yesterday,” she softly began. “I knew I shouldn’t have released him so soon.”

“What happened to him?” Draco asked, quickly clearing his throat when he heard the recognizable worry behind his voice.

“He was jumped in the loo,” she sadly replied.

“By whom?” he curiously wondered, still amazed that no one had come forward with their tale yet.

She shook her head and sighed, opening Potter’s eyelids to look inside. “Nobody knows,” she answered, looking up at him and frowning. “Do you?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Of course not,” he snapped in defense. “And I’ll have you remember that I was already in here when all that happened.”

“I know, Mr. Malfoy, and I wasn’t accusing you of that,” she softly expressed, pushing some of Potter’s hair behind his ear. “I just thought perhaps you had heard something.”

He uncrossed his arms and shook his head, allowing his body to relax. “No,” he replied, glancing over at his friend. “Nothing.”

She nodded, pulling the covers up Potter’s body. She then looked at the two boys before her and sighed. “You both can go back to class now,” she explained.

They both nodded, turning to leave the room. Once outside, Draco told his friend to go on without him, telling him he would be right back. He then returned to the hospital wing and moved slowly toward Potter’s bed, staring down at him.

“Did you forget something?”

Draco quickly looked up, seeing Pomfrey come out of her office holding a vial and spoon. He sighed, glancing over at the doorway, noticing they were alone.

“He was happy,” he began, looking down at Potter once more. “In his memory,” he clarified.

“Happy?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. He then let it out and looked up at her. “I saw some things,” he softly continued. “When he was younger.”

She frowned, pouring some liquid from the bottle into the spoon. “I’m sure he would appreciate you not telling anyone,” she expressed, moving the spoon toward Potter’s slightly opened mouth.

Draco nodded, watching the boy getting spoon-fed. He then cleared his throat. “So you know?” he questioned.

“Of course,” she said, wiping some of the spilled potion from Potter’s mouth. “You can’t hide those things from a matron,” she continued, frowning once more and looking up at him. “As you already know.”

He blushed, looking back down at Potter. He felt her hand squeeze his shoulder in a comforting manner before she stepped away.

“He was with someone,” he finally stated, looking over at her.

She furrowed her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

“In his memory,” he explained. “He was happy with this person. And then suddenly…I don’t know…he just started screaming,” he gulped.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, moving closer to his bed. She then pulled her wand out and began scanning his head. “Do you remember who the person was?” she asked.

“All I could see was a shadow,” he explained. “There was no face.”

She quickly looked up at him, eyes widened in disbelief. “He was able to distort his memory?”

“Apparently.”

“But why then instead of his earlier memories?” she questioned.

Draco chewed on his bottom lip, not sure if he wanted to say anything. He watched her continue to scan his body and knew he had to tell her. He knew any bit of information he had could possibly help.

“I don’t know if this matters or not, but when I was in there, it felt…I don’t know…like it wasn’t real. Like it was more of a dream than a memory.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “But you were inside his memory, right?”

He nodded. “Yes, I know I was. I saw a part where he was smiling and dove in a bit more to see why. The strange thing was, I could feel his mind trying to push me out. At the time I thought he was doing it, but it didn’t really feel like him. It felt…it felt like something else was trying to keep me out.”

“Interesting,” she murmured, scanning her wand over Potter’s head again. “What else do you remember?”

“He said it hurt,” he recalled. “When he was screaming for me to get out. He said it hurt.”

“Hmm,” she mused.

“Why would that have hurt him?” he asked, still very much confused.

“I’m not sure,” she responded, shaking her head. “There could be a multiple of reasons,” she then explained. “It could’ve been emotionally hurting him or physically hurting him. Perhaps this person had hurt him recently and although it was a happy memory at one time, he didn’t want to have to remember it then. Or perhaps you had accidentally pinched a nerve inside his mind that caused him pain, which many novice Legilimens sometimes do.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, biting his lower lip.

“You should get back to class,” Pomfrey stated. “He’ll be fine.”

Draco nodded, looking back down at Potter. “Okay,” he whispered, turning away from the bed and moving toward the exit.

He then stopped in the doorway, slowly turning back around. “Madam Pomfrey?”

“Yes?” she answered, looking over at him.

He began fidgeting with his hands, lowering his head to the floor.

“He’s going to be fine, Mr. Malfoy,” she whispered.

He quickly looked up, noticing a small smile on her face. He glanced over at Potter once more, furrowing his eyebrows. He then shook his head and turned back around, fleeing out of the room. Why did he care? It was fucking Potter. It wasn’t his fault that the boy ended up there. He was only doing what Snape asked him to do. It wasn’t his fault for seeing those memories; it wasn’t his fault that Potter couldn’t block him. Of course Potter would be fine. He always came out of these things fine. Fucking Potter.

“I hate you.”

He immediately stopped running, quickly turning back around. He could have sworn he just heard Potter’s voice. It sounded exactly like him. He then shook his head and began walking again. Potter was unconscious; he wasn’t even there. He balled his hands into fists, heading back to his classroom.

“I hate you too,” he softly growled, hating how the boy was starting to affect his mind.