[Draco,] Harry said as he played absently with the sandwich he had summoned for lunch.
His soulmate's blond head popped up from where Draco was reading a large, unfriendly looking text book, and Harry found himself pinned down by his lover's grey eyes.
[There are some things I would like to share with you,] he said, [but I don't know if you'll want to know them.]
Information flowed between them like water, but so far it was mostly current things and Harry had been feeling that there was something more that he needed to do. They had talked many times before they had bonded, but part of him wanted more; he wanted Draco to know him more completely than any normal human being could.
His instincts wanted to know about Draco as well, but Harry did not want to force his soulmate into anything.
For a moment Draco looked at him appraisingly and then unfolded from where he was leaning on the bedstead, standing and stepping towards Harry. Still without replying Draco climbed back on the bed beside him and took his hand.
[Show me,] Draco's mental voice said calmly.
[Some of it's not nice,] Harry warned. [I don't know if I can control it, I just know I want to show you things.]
[I know you came with baggage, Harry,] Draco said, [so do I. I feel it too; it's time.]
Harry looked into his soulmate's eyes, seeing and feeling the unconditional love at the same time. There were no barriers between them, no walls and Harry felt the need to be known and to know.
[I love you,] he said resolutely and let the sensation inside him grow.
It was like an amorphous many-tentacled creature oozing through his mind as Harry let the instinct rise within him, and it reached through his memory selecting times and places. He stretched out mentally to Draco and, as their thoughts locked, it began.
It started with an early memory, Harry recognised himself at no more than four. He was standing in the kitchen at number 4 Privet Drive; his knee hurt and he had been crying. Dudley had pushed him over in the garden, he remembered, and he'd skinned his knee. Aunt Petunia had sent him inside with a reprimand for making himself a nuisance.
No one was going to help him and he realised that if he was going to stop the pain in his knee he had to do it himself. Resolutely he wiped his eyes and his nose on the already grubby sleeve of the too big shirt he was wearing, and then he walked to where he knew Aunt Petunia kept the first aid box.
The image shifted and with a start Harry realised he was no longer inside his own memory. This was Draco's recollection and he was also a child, possibly a little older than Harry had been in the last memory. He was standing in a large study next to a roaring fire; it was his father's study and Lucius was standing in front of his son.
"Draco," the tall blond man said with a warmth in his face that Harry had never seen before, "I think you are old enough to understand some things."
A rush of pride and love ran through the small boy and Harry felt it as if it was his own memory.
"I was very pleased with you today at your Aunt and Uncle's," Lucius continued evenly, "you did justice to the Malfoy name. There are some things you must always remember and now is the time for you to learn them."
Draco nodded to his parent gravely, feeling very important, with a perfect trust in his father.
"You must always be superior to those around you, Draco," Lucius said. "You are a Malfoy and we are always winners. I watched you today with the other children and I saw you lead them. That is what it means to be my son; do you understand?"
Looking up at the serious face of the man who was everything to him, Draco learned, and he took the lesson right to his heart.
The scene changed again and Harry found himself back in his own past. This time he was at school, the primary school he and Dudley had attended. It was playtime, but Harry was still inside with the teacher; he had a cold and he wasn't allowed outside with the other children. He had a book on his lap and he was reading, it was a large book with lots of pictures and fantastic stories of wizards and dragons. It was his favourite and Miss Michaels had pulled it out from the bookshelf for him as soon as the others had gone out to play.
Harry liked Miss Michaels, she was pretty and she didn't look at him like some of the others did. Aunt Petunia told everyone he was a troublesome child and Dudley made sure the other children wouldn't play with him, if their mothers hadn't in the first place. Miss Michaels told him not to take any notice of what anyone else said; there were better people in the world than those he had met. When she said it, Harry believed her.
The memories continued, some happy some sad: Draco's grandmother dying; when Harry won the art competition at school because it was judged by someone his Aunt and Uncle had never spoken to; the time Draco had snuck out of his room in the middle of the night and met one of the ancestral ghosts in the garden. They moved through time together experiencing formative events in each of their lives. They shared their joy at their Hogwarts letters and the fear they had felt for the first time on the train. The first conversation in Madam Malkin's from both of their perspectives revealed to them how maybe, they could have been friends if it hadn't been for childish insecurities.
Harry shared how Hogwarts had become the family he had never had, and Draco showed him just how much being away from home had scared him. They shared everything that had been behind the masks of Gryffindor hero and Slytherin bully.
Then came the first memory of Voldemort; the first time Harry had risked his life for a cause he did not really comprehend. There was no holding back and Harry let everything flow from him. The vines, the chess set, the potions room, and the mirror with Quirrell in his turban. Harry showed Draco his terror and anger and then the astonishment when Voldemort was defeated.
There was no pretence of the infallible hero that over the years the retelling of the tale had turned him into. Harry let Draco see the real events; he revealed his thankfulness for Hermione's brain; he let his soulmate feel the confusion and the helplessness as Ron sacrificed himself at the chess board so Harry could go on; and he showed him the complete shock and disgust at finding Quirrell was the enemy. It had been an astounding moment as Harry realised that not everything was as it seemed, and probably one of the most important lessons he had ever learned.
When that memory was over the experience did not shift to Draco this time, but moved on to Harry's second year. There was no exchange of recollections this time as his thoughts showed Draco what his life had become about: Tom Riddle, the basilisk and Harry's real fear that he was the evil which threatened his home. He replayed the first time he had heard the monster's voice and how the knowledge only he could hear it had affected him.
Harry let Draco see how they had used the Polyjuice, and how after the loss of Hermione the twelve year old Harry had been terrified that it was all his fault. Then the memory skipped to the end of the year where Harry and Ron had taken Lockhart down in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry revealed the desperation at finding Ginny so still and almost dead, he showed his lover the cold knowledge that the bite of the huge snake would kill him, and the determination to stop Voldemort before he died flooded out of his mind.
Draco replied with his memory of the duelling club; exhibiting his determination to beat the great Harry Potter and his fear that he might lose. The images and emotion flooded into Harry and he realised for the first time how much of Draco's life had been about bringing down the Gryffindor hero. What he had never known and he saw as Draco revealed it to him, was how much the way the duel had ended had affected the twelve year old Slytherin.
There for Harry to see was the shock Draco had felt when Harry spoke to the snake: the disbelief that the pure Gryffindor had such a talent; and the jealousy that such a rare gift had been bestowed upon his enemy. Above all Draco showed how dismayed he had been as he realised that never, no matter how hard he worked, would he ever be able to beat Harry in this.
Then came happy memories from them both as if trying to point out that it was not all bad: just little snippets of their lives at Hogwarts before Harry's first meeting with a Dementor slipped into the fray. All of his third year seemed to come at once from Harry, fading through one memory into another showing the uncertainty, the fear, and then the realisation and happiness of finding Sirius, who was almost family. There did not appear to be much separation in his mind between memories, as if the whole experience had been crammed into one part of Harry's thoughts. It was all revealed in one long string.
Draco showed Harry his joy at taunting The Boy Who Lived, the excitement of setting up the fake Dementor trick, and the fear that he would disappoint his father with his failure. It was always about being the best, about making his parents proud and memory after memory showed his growing fear that he had failed. Harry knew without a doubt that since the moment they had first spoken he had been a driving force in his soulmate's life, and he was beginning to realise that Draco, although not the focus of everything, was always there in his. It was as if he'd been keeping an eye on his soulmate just waiting for the right time.
There were fewer happy memories now, only the odd one or two between darker scenes. The Triwizard tournament came and went from both their perspectives and the scenes of Cedric's death and Voldemort's return played out in their joined thoughts. Harry showed Draco his guilt and his fear. "Kill the spare" echoed through his mind more than once as he replayed the events for his lover, sharing his pain. These were the events which made him who he was; knowledge and terror too large for a fourteen year old boy, thrust upon him by a madman.
It was all about Voldemort now for both of them. Every thought they shared was overshadowed by He Who Shall Not Be Named as his interference shaped their lives. Surprisingly Draco shared more memories from that time than Harry: he had been in contact with his father far more than Harry ever realised, and he had been a major source of information. The fact that he had betrayed Harry in so many ways left Draco's thoughts tinged heavily with guilt, because they both knew what was coming.
Harry showed his lover only one memory of any length from his fifth year and that played out in slow, agonising detail. It started as the rescue party from the Order burst in to the Department of Mysteries; it moved through the battle that resulted; it seemed to crawl through the precious seconds when Sirius fell, stupefied through the veil; and surprisingly it ended with Harry's failed Cruciatus curse at Bellatrix Lestrange. Every moment of anger and pain was so clear it was almost like reliving it; only this time Harry could feel the mental arms of his soulmate holding him tightly.
Draco's reply was the disbelief and anger he had felt when he heard of his father's capture. The humiliation and fear that his parent could fail so completely was not something Harry had understood.
Their worlds had come crashing down and they shared their pain and sorrow and their will to go on. Harry showed Draco the double life he had lived through his sixth year and Draco revealed how he had had to grow up and face that this was not a children's game anymore.
And finally there was Draco's meeting with Voldemort; the turning point of a boy's life that truly made him a man. Harry felt his soulmate's fear and excitement when his father arrived at the Manor and instructed him to get ready. His time had finally come and Draco was ready to take his place by Lucius' side for the Dark Lord's great cause. Harry saw Voldemort through Draco's eyes and felt his shock at the twisted, ugly thing he was presented to like a gift: nothing like the true Death Eater's son had imagined; nothing like he had been told. Then came the realisation; the dawning light as Draco listened to the shell of a creature speak and watched as Voldemort's minions crawled to their master on their hands and knees. It had suddenly become clear for Draco and he had understood.
But worst of all was the following betrayal. Draco showed Harry how he had revealed the truth to his father, how he expected his parent to explain and show him that everything was not as it seemed. Draco let him see his complete terror, as he understood that his father was beyond angry, and he shared the torture his parent had put him through. The pain had been bad and Draco had begged for mercy, but that was not what had almost destroyed him. What had left him crying into his pillow every night was the knowledge that his father was lost; the inescapable truth that Lucius had been claimed by a madness from which he would never recover.
Everything Draco had believed in had died that summer and he had been empty when he returned to school: empty and waiting to be filled by Harry Potter.
The room filtered back in slowly and Harry found himself still looking into Draco's grey gaze. They had not shown each other everything, the process had not leeched every memory from their minds and given it to the other, but now they understood. Harry could feel the knowledge of himself in his soulmate, and Harry recognized what it was that fundamentally made Draco who he was. They did not move for a long time and then Harry sat forward and drew his lover into a fierce embrace.