For a moment, Albus had to wonder if he ought to explain what he was about to do. In his experience, however, when people knew precisely what they were getting into, they either misunderstood, or found it too great a deterrent. Besides, it was often easier to broker in trust than in comprehension.
"Take a deep breath," he said, leaning over a little to gently press the pad of his thumb to the center of Zach's forehead, the rest of his fingertips fanning along the side of Zach's head. "Remember that I am not going to abuse you." Because after what Gellert had done, Albus suspected this would be uncomfortable for Zach. "And exhale."
Once he had proper eye contact, he sank himself into Zach's mind, firmly, but without rushing. He avoided the lure of active memory and conscious thought, sifting through the mire toward some state of calm, hoping to find an anchor to which he could tether Zach. Without it, Albus fear Zach would balk at someone else shifting things around in his mind. It would be easier, of course, to simply force Zach's consciousness into submission, but Albus couldn't help thinking that might prove counterproductive to Zach's potential for autonomy.