Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot line; all the characters etc are JK Rowling's. HP/DM pairing later on.

Warnings: At the moment this is just rated T, however the rating may rise in later chapters.

Beta: My wonderful friend Candy Marie, who read this so long ago she's probably forgotten what happened:)

Summary: Will Harry ever learn to close his mind? Will Draco ever learn to open his?

Authors Notes: I stared writing this in the dim and distant past. Just after the sixth book had come out in fact. I did begin posting it here but after a while I stopped and started posting elsewhere and in the end it never got finished. Now I've decided it's about time it was finished so I'm reposting it here. I've rewritten the first few chapters and changed the story title; I'll probably delete the old one when I work out how. As has been noted I started writing this after the sixth book so the events here follow on from there, completely ignoring the seventh book. Since I already had the plotline for the story planned out any events that resemble those from the seventh book are purely coincidental.

Now on with the chapter!

Chapter 1: Close Your Mind

Harry couldn't quite remember how it had come to this, how he had got there, how everything had gone so badly wrong. But it had, and now he was standing with his back pressed against a door that was his only means of escape from a room filled with Death Eaters.

There was a deathly silence; all eyes were on one tall figure standing in the middle of the room. A tall figure, who pulled off his hood revealing greasy black hair and a hooked nose. Severus Snape.

Anger coursed through Harry's veins as he looked into the cold black eyes that were now fixing him with a steely gaze.

"The Dark Lord will be here soon" Snape hissed, the satisfaction at having finally captured Harry evident in his voice "I have orders to leave you for him to deal with, but I'm sure he won't mind us having a little fun before he gets here. A little duel perhaps would pass the time." He gave Harry an icy smile as he flourished his wand to the appreciative murmurs of the other Death Eaters.

"Draw your wand then," he ordered coldly. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little duel. We'll even make a rule: no Unforgivable Curses."

Grimacing, Harry pulled out his wand. He remembered what had happened the last time he had tried to fight Snape; everything he had done, said or thought had been anticipated and blocked by the man who had just moments before killed Dumbledore. He knew he was no better at Occlumency now than he had been then.

Snape jerked his head in the semblance of a bow and Harry did the same.

"Expelli…" he began, but the spell blocked by Snape as if it were nothing and countered with one that slammed Harry backwards into the door. His head swimming Harry stumbled forwards and fell to the floor.

"Dear me, Potter, haven't we learnt to close our mind yet," tutted Snape with a cold laugh. "Which of course reminds me of our last meeting. I wouldn't even try using my own spells against me if I were you, Potter."

The reminder of that spell brought the image of Draco Malfoy, lying on the bathroom floor in a pool of his own blood, swimming to the front of Harry's mind. Even now, after all that had happened, the image still horrified him and made him feel sick to his stomach at the thought of what he had done.

"Ah of course, we all know what happened last time you used that spell don't we, Potter. Who would have thought you had it in you to use such dark magic?" Harry felt something inside him snap and before he had even thought about what he was going to say he started shouting.

"I would never have used that spell if I had known what it did! Not even Draco deserved that!" He pushed himself angrily off the ground and glared at Snape, whose face now held a look of slight amusement.

"Well, well, well" he muttered softly, and Harry realised with horror that not only had he called Malfoy "Draco" for the first time in years, but also that Malfoy himself was probably standing in the room with them at that very moment, a black hooded figure indistinguishable from the rest, silently watching his torment.

"The duel is not over yet, Potter." Snape had raised his wand again and cast a hex that Harry barely had time to block. He jumped sideways to avoid a second and wondered what on earth he could use against Snape. Everything he tried was blocked almost before he had finished thinking it.

"Stupi --" he thought desperately pointing his wand at Snape. As he expected Snape blocked it with a lazy flick of his wand, and immediately sent one back. This time it was a curse Harry didn't recognise, and he knew instinctively that it was Dark, perhaps one step away from an Unforgivable. He dived to the floor as the jet of light whizzed over his head and smashed part of the stone wall. He lay there panting, wishing desperately that he could block his thoughts from Snape, and cursing himself for not being able to do it, when suddenly he felt something change. Something barely perceptible had altered inside his head, something that made him haul himself to his feet, wipe his damp hair from his face and ready his wand.

"Not had enough yet, Potter?"

"Impedimenta!" The word seemed to come from his mouth without passing through his brain first. Surprise registered on Snape's face as he blocked it just in time, and then they were duelling so fast that Harry didn't even have time to think. Spells poured from his lips one after the other, sometimes offensive, sometimes defensive, but at least now Snape had no unfair advantage. Somehow Harry had blocked him out, somehow Snape could no longer anticipate his every move. There was no time now to think about the how or why, in fact his mind seemed to be shrouded in fog even to himself; it felt like he wasn't even thinking his own thoughts at all.

"Ridisimass!!" The jet of purple light hit Snape squarely in the chest sending him reeling backwards, and without pausing Harry took advantage of the moment to wrench open the door and flee down the stone passageway. As he went the fog seemed to lift from his mind and he stumbled as his thoughts once again came back under his control.

What had happened in there? What was that spell he had used? Harry was certain he had never seen or heard it before in his life. He had no idea why he had suddenly found himself shouting it, and certainly no idea what it might have done to Snape, although he hoped it was something extremely painful. In fact he wasn't even sure he could remember what it was now. Ridilmace? Ridicinus?

His thoughts were pulled back to the present as he became aware of the shouts of Death Eaters behind him. He concentrated again on running as fast as he could, past doors, down seemingly endless cold stone passageways, trying to remember the way he had come, until he saw the silvery light ahead. The Death Eaters, who knew the passageways so much better than he did, were gaining now, and occasionally a curse would ricochet off the wall behind him. He urged his body onwards, until he finally hurtled out into the pale moonlight and Disapperated.

The night's work was not finished yet.

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Draco stood gasping for breath in the passageway as Harry vanished before their eyes. The figures around him, cloaked and masked in black like himself, cursed loudly and turned to make their way back to the room where they had left Snape lying unconscious. Draco trudged along with them, relieved that they could not see his face. Harry had escaped from their clutches once again; there would be hell to pay for this when Voldemort arrived.

He did not know what had made him do it. He did not know what had made him use his unusual gift at Legilimency to block Potter's thoughts from Snape. He did not know why he had helped him escape. He knew only that he had and that somehow he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a weight that he didn't know had been there until it had gone. He had gone against everything he knew and everything he had been taught. He had helped the boy who was supposed to be his worst enemy.

Not anymore though. Now things would have to change.

Snape had regained consciousness by the time they arrived back and was not best pleased to hear that Harry had escaped. There was shouting; exchanges of blame. Snape knew Harry was no good at Occlumency; someone must have been helping him, he suspected a clever use of the Imperius Curse. Someone in the room was a spy for the other side.

Draco, standing apart from the rest with his father, heard Snape cast the Legilimency spell and felt Snape's mind probing inside his head, as he would be in the head of everyone in that room. He was ready for him though and luckily not even Snape knew just how good Draco had become at Occlumency, Draco was able to block the truth from him without Snape ever suspecting that there was a truth to hide. Not that Snape would suspect him anyway; after all he was the son of Lucius Malfoy, if there was anyone in the room safe from suspicion it would be him. As Snape withdrew from his head he realised his father was saying something about 'that Potter boy' to him and he forced his attention onto his words, his lips forming suitable replies.

Yes, Father. No, Father. How I hate you Father for dragging me into all this. True, the power had attracted him at first, the idea of being so close to one so powerful was a glamorous one and he had dreamt of becoming a Death Eater himself. Dreamt of being respected, being above the other Death Eaters, becoming Voldemort's confidant who would share his power, like his father always seemed too. How different the reality was.

When had his thinking changed? He wasn't sure exactly. The night of Dumbledore's death had been the night when he could no longer deny his thoughts, but they had started long before that. Perhaps it had been the look on Voldemort's face as he had burned the Dark Mark into his arm. A greedy, self-satisfied look, as if to say, that's one more for me, one more to do my bidding. Then, when Voldemort had threatened to kill him and his family if he failed to kill Dumbledore, he had lived in fear and misery for an entire year. That wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Finally, there had been that time in the bathroom when Potter had cursed him. Even through the blood and the pain he had seen the look of horror on Potter's face, heard the words of regret pouring from his mouth. Harry was supposed to hate him, yet he had shown such compassion when he had unwittingly hurt him so badly. Those whose side he was supposedly on had never shown an ounce of emotion whenever he had been in pain, and had inflicted far worse on him without any regret.

Of course Draco knew why he had helped Harry. It was because of that time in the bathroom and it was because tonight Snape had used him like a plaything for his own amusement, knowing Harry could not make it a fair fight. Draco hadn't known Harry could not do Occlumency until that moment and when Harry had shouted about not meaning to hurt Draco, he had gazed into his memories and found the guilt Harry still felt about that incident. Guilt he felt even now, when he knew Draco was standing amongst the Death Eaters he so hated. Draco knew then he must choose, so he had chosen.

He just hoped it turned out to be the right choice.

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Well that's it for the first chapter, more to follow soon. In the meantime please leave me a review to let me know what you though!

Sivany