Disclaimer: Not mine, all JKR's. Lucky lady.

AU: Not sure how long this will be. I have the first few chapters written but unedited. It kind of just popped up in the old noggin when a friend suggested therapy after she saw me and my other friends reaction to Sherlock season 3's announcement of being pushed back to 2014. And a friend that dont fandom aint no friend of mine. Anyway...

Warning: A little of this (slash) a little of that (swearing). Some twin teasing and mentions of bondage for later chapters.

Entry #1

This is stupid. Malfoy you bastard. I know your reading this. You were the one that assigned me to write this. Bastard.

Closing the notebook and massaging his temples, Draco took a deep breathe and reminded himself that there were people who knew Harry bloody Potter was in his office already. Plus, he wouldn't be able to hide the body fast enough anyway.

"Do you think your vocabulary can include words other than calling me a bastard Auror Potter." Draco tried to put as much emphasis on his clients supposed title. Potter was the one acting like a petty child and he was the one that was a crazy bastard anyway.

"No, not really." Harry deadpanned.

"Oh, honestly!"

Potter jumped up from the black velvet chaise lounge chair, obviously provided by Malfoy, and took on a stance of a cross teenager not getting his way instead of the almost 30 year old he was. He hated this. Being subjected to the likes of Malfoy. Having to be observed like some kind of caged animal.

"Look! Healer Malfoy we both know that having me write in some diary-"

"Journal, Potter! And are you mocking me-"

"Journal, diary, whatever! It is complete rubbish! So sign what you have to sign and speak to who you have to speak to, to get me the fuck out of here!"

Breathe Draco. Though black and white, or any color really, is your color wearing them in Azkaban would be a waste. Also those prison outfits were striped and honestly who wore stripes these days.

Gods not even a potion the size of a wine bottle would be able to take care of the migraine Potter was thrusting upon him. Mmmm wine. That was the goal after this retched session. Damn Kingsley and his overly emotional attachment to his Gryffindor. Being the new minister of magic Kingsley did many things to fix the twisted remains of the ministry. As a result nothing but the best was provided for his underlings and as far as mind healers went the absolute best included Draco.

Which is what petty Potter needed to learn. NOW. Huh, Petty Potter. That was good, that was going down as his file name.

"Please refrain from telling me how to do my job. Potter. When you and your wand happy soldiers go skipping about after deadly wizards on a daily basis. Getting thrown in to walls by a flick of a wand or hexed, and cursed. Why do you think you and your team are now REQUIRED to visit mind healers on a weekly basis, you twat! The body isn't the only thing that gets damaged when faced with the trauma that it has sustained but the mind as well."

Slowly standing Draco walked over to Potter and used every one of the three inches he had on him to make him feel as inferior as possible in the situation they were in. A useless attempt Draco soon realized when said Potter just raised his eyebrow and tilted his chin up to meet his eyes. But damn it all was he going to get his message clear across that, stubborn scarred, head if it drove him to madness.

"And unless you are going to sit here for an hour and tell me all about your feelings like a good little Gryffindor then you are going to write. I don't care what you write about at this time. Write why the sky is blue or why your practically insufferable. Just write. Then if your comfortable we can talk for the last ten minutes or so about it. You may even write out side of our little sessions and we can talk about what you've written the next time you visit. Like it or not Potter your stuck with me. Kingsley asked for the best and that is exactly what he got. I will NOT ruin my reputation because YOU are unable to act as a rational adult. Are we clear?"

Shoving the notebook into Harry's chest Draco silently dared Harry to argue with him.

Through clenched teeth Harry answered "Crystal" then stalked out of the room. Carrying the sodding leather bound notebook Malfoy gave him.

Potter may be the best Auror out there but that was all physical talent and so called "bravery", stupidity in Draco's opinion but he digresses. What Draco did was, was psychologically daunting, the mind was a treacherous place to explore, and Draco fucking loved it. Being a Slytherin, mind games were child's play, but understanding anothers and attempting to adjust and heal it back to normalcy was almost as fun as procuring sex. Almost.

Similar in many ways, the game of pursuing a person of interest, compared to getting access to someones mind and adjusting it to his and his clients liking. There was the introductions. The seduction of information from the client. Realization of purpose, to help. Suggestions on how to further progress. The actual practice of such suggestions. Then finally after many repeated attempts to succeed in reaching a certain goal an orgasmic like bliss would be waiting to spread through the newly satisfied client.

Just like any other client that came waltzing through that door of his, Potter would practically be getting the same treatment as a potential lover. Ha! He should be so lucky.

Draco had one rule and one rule only. Clients were so strictly off limits, even a lingering glance from any of his patients were shut down immediately by a glare or a raised eyebrow. Draco already experienced enough "crazy" for a life time thank you very much. Oh! And to never forget to moisturize. So maybe two, Draco had two rules.

Since he and Potter were already acquainted, introductions were not needed. Leaving the second step to be achieved. Which was to retrieve information from Potter that could lead to any unsolved issues residing in that head of his. This would have been a hell of a lot easier if they were complete strangers. A strategically placed comment or a well placed smile of encouragement could lead any other client to open up like a bar on a Friday night. But with Potter, this would be difficult. So difficult in fact that Draco had to result to having Potter write in a journal like some first year at Hogwarts. Just so he could get a peek into where Harry's mind was. Cause he was for damn sure they wouldn't be able to have civil conversations for the first few sessions.

Nonetheless, operation "seduce" information from Potter's mind shall commence!

God. He really did need that bottle of wine.

More? No more? Any suggestions?