Don't Move (dm.hp)

O N E

Draco wandered the halls of Malfoy Manor aimlessly. He ran his fingers along the walls, humming a song he didn't remember the name of. The sound of his footsteps on the marble floors seemed to echo through the house. He paused to inspect one of the many family portraits on the wall. Lucius Malfoy's expression was neutral, his eyes cold. Narcissa looked elegant as ever, her blonde hair pulled back in an elaborate twist. Between them sat Draco. Both parents had a hand on his shoulders, and his expression was nearly identical to his father's, hair slicked back against his skull. Draco had to have been only 14 or so in this photograph.

Draco scoffed after a moment, rolling his eyes as he walked away. The Manor was like a labyrinth, halls that seemed to go on forever, dead ends when you least expect them. Draco assumed his grandfather had it built that way in case the Manor was raided, to disorient law enforcement long enough to get rid of anything incriminating.

The last six months had been incredibly boring, stuck in his home day in and day out. He was allowed to go grocery shopping, but had to be accompanied by his probation officer Marty. How embarrassing it was to have a cop hovering as he pushed a cart down the aisles. How embarrassing it was to have to grocery shop for himself, something Draco had never done before. The housekeepers and butler always handles those matters, from keeping the kitchen stocked to ensuring every surface in the Manor was spotless at all times. But they had left, as well as the groundskeeper and everyone else Draco had become accustomed to having in his home.

House arrest was far more comfortable than prison, however. Draco had spent two years in the federal correctional institution, charged with narcotics trafficking, fraud and embezzlement. His sentence could have been ten times longer if it weren't for his excellent cooperation and very helpful information. The same couldn't be said for his father. Lucius would spend the rest of his life locked up. He was the right hand man of Tom Riddle, crime boss extraordinaire. Riddle was yet to be caught, evading law enforcement for the better part of 25 years. A shiver ran down Draco's spine as he thought about the potential target on his back after divulging classified information during his trial.

Draco found himself in the extravagant entertainment room. He sat down in front of the grand piano, once so polished it resembled a mirror, now coated with a thin layer of dust. His long pale fingers began lovingly caressing the keys, playing a soft rendition of Clair de Lune. The sweet sound filled the room, a welcome break from the usual chilling silence. Playing the piano had once been something Draco had been forced by his mother to do, under the pretence that it would help him woo potential life partners. Now, it was an escape for Draco, transporting him to a world without fear and violence. It was a beautiful sight, the pale blonde man elegantly playing, the sun pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows and reflecting off of the ornate crystal chandelier, casting a thousand tiny rainbows onto the stark white walls.

Draco's trance was broken by a sharp knock at the front door. He checked his watch, having nearly forgotten that there was a check in today. He made his way out of the luxurious room into the equally as beautiful entrance hall. He swung the door open just as the older man outside raised his hand to the silver serpent door knocker.

"Marty." Draco greeted the officer shortly. He stepped aside, allowing his glorified babysitter inside.

"Mr Malfoy, how are we doing today?" Marty asked, stroking his ridiculously large moustache as he cautiously glanced around the room. He had insisted that Draco call him Marty, telling him that Officer Peterson was too formal after all these months. Marty was about as stereotypical as a cop could get. His physique told Draco he had never shied away from a doughnut a day in his life, cheap gas station coffee in hand whenever he came to the Manor. He was nice enough, though. He treated Draco like a human being, even though he peeked around as though he expected mobsters wielding machine guns and machetes to jump out of the pantry.

"Just fine, thank you. Yourself?" This was their routine, exchanging niceties as Marty poked around the main floor of the Manor. He never went farther than that, which Draco found odd. Maybe Marty didn't trust his body to make it up 4 flights of stairs.

"Good, good. Sent my boy off to college the other day. Leanne hasn't stopped crying about it yet, empty nest syndrome and all."

Draco hummed in response, lazily following his probation officer into the spacious kitchen. He lifted himself up onto the counter, slowly munching on an apple. Marty opened drawers and cabinets, rummaging around until he was satisfied. Draco laughed internally, wondering how this big dope ended up being his probation officer. He was entirely insufficient when it came to searching the house. Not that Draco had anything to hide, of course. He'd been a squeaky clean, model citizen since his release.

"So, Mr Malfoy. I have some news." Marty grumbled. Draco raised his eyebrows, butterflies in his stomach. Was his house arrest ending early? Or, Draco thought anxiously, was he being sent back to prison?

"What is it?"

"Well, I've been at this job for almost 28 years," Marty began, "And now that the boy's gone, Leanne and I are looking at some nice little places down in Florida. So, uh, this will be my last visit. My replacement will come by in a couple of days."

They both awkwardly looked at each other, Marty swinging his arms by his side. Draco eventually nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Alright, well I'll be off then." Marty pressed his lips together in an awkward smile. Draco led him to the front door and held it open. "Stay out of trouble now."

"Will do." Draco said with a small chuckle. "Enjoy retirement, you deserve it."

And with that, the newly retired officer made his way down the long driveway. Draco closed the door and leaned against it with a sigh. There was no guarantee that his new probation officer would be even half as laid back as Marty. He prayed to any higher power that he wouldn't be stuck with some big headed jack ass.

The rest of the day went by slowly as Draco cycled through walking around, playing the piano and laying on the large cream coloured sofa, staring up at the chandelier. He wished he had his cellphone, which was confiscated immediately after his arrest for evidence. He hadn't been allowed to get it back or purchase a new one to prevent him from potentially contacting members of the organization. Mindless social media scrolling would be a good way to kill time. He had already watched nearly every single series and movie on Netflix, so he was taking a break from television. He had read every book in the library. There was absolutely nothing to do besides sit on his ass and think.

He thought about his father, who had always been very severe, grooming Draco into the perfect criminal. Instead of going to university, Draco had learned how to smuggle cocaine across borders and a variety of methods used to obtain information from members of rival gangs. Lucius had given Draco his very own knife collection when he turned 18.

Draco's mother on the other hand, had always been very distant, in her own world. Her eyes were always glazed, emotionless. Draco supposed it was a side effect of the pain killers she consumed like candy. He didn't blame her for that, some people weren't cut out for living in a home that was overrun by crime, watching the maids scrub blood off the marble floors. His heart ached when he thought of her. Not long after her husband and son's sentencing, she had taken all of her medications at once, fell asleep and never woke up. She'd had a beautiful funeral service, Draco had heard. Despite his begging and appeals, he was not allowed to attend. As neglectful as she was, she was still Draco's mother and he missed her terribly. He kept a photo of her on his bedside table, one that was taken at his baptism. She had a big, genuine smile on her face and held a baby Draco in her arms.

Draco watched the room slowly fill with an orange glow as the sun set. Gradually the light faded, and he was left in the dark.
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idk if y'all will enjoy this but the idea came to me last night and i'm just rolling with it