"Right then," Harry said, feeling faintly nervous that he was about to set Draco up to fail, "before we do anything, we need to pick the memory you draw on," he didn’t miss the way that Draco’s hands curled into fists by his sides, and his back stiffened. Harry knew without asking that Draco wasn’t about to share his memories with him, and he tried not to be hurt by it; he wasn’t entitled to Draco’s every thought and feeling, "You don’t need to tell me what it is," he continued, his voice level, "but it needs to be powerful. It needs to fill you with joy from your toes to the tips of your ears," Draco hesitated, then nodded, "Do you have one?"