Don't Move (dm.hp)

F O U R

hi guys sorry for the very late updates i did a bit of travelling (within the country+very safe + lots of precautions+ just to see family!! i'm in canada & my home and where i went hasn't had new cases in a long time!! trust me i wouldn't have gone anywhere if there was any risk!) but i'm home now & spending the day writing!! love u all xoxo
& also if you feel that inclined to vote + comment that would be much appreciated!
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Draco was sure about two things. One, he was completely and uncontrollably obsessed with Potter. Two, Potter was completely out of reach. There was hardly a chance that he would ever see Draco in a positive light. However, hardly a chance was different from no chance at all.

Draco did love a challenge.

A few days had passed since Potter had last paid Draco a visit. He hadn't mentioned when he would drop by again the last time he was at the Manor. When he had helped Draco bring groceries in, when he had almost, maybe smiled. When he had gazed at the Manor from his vehicle with a confused expression. What could he possibly be confused about, Draco thought to himself while he laid on the living room floor. He basked in the warm sunlight that poured in through the window, sketching in his notepad. Draco thought he was quite good at it too. He sketched strong hands on a steering wheel, a familiar handsome face with a stern expression. He thought about what it would feel like to kiss those full lips, to run his fingers over that sharp jawline. Absently Draco traced his drawing with his fingertips, willing the image to come to life, for Potter to be standing in front of him. He felt like a schoolgirl, doodling his crush while daydreaming about kissing him. Ridiculous. Draco had never pined over somebody, never in his life. He was the one that people chased after, men and women alike. All through his adolescence and young adulthood people had practically lined up outside the Manor for a shot with him. Now look at me, Draco scolded himself, longing to be with Potter. Absolutely ridiculous.

As childish as it may be, Draco had in fact spent the better part of four days thinking about Potter. He thought about him in the morning. What would it be like to wake up next to him? He thought about him during breakfast. Would Potter be the type to make him breakfast in bed? He thought of him in the shower. God, did Draco ever think about him in the shower. The mental image of water streaming down Potter's face and body, pinning him against the wall, feeling every inch of his body... Draco rather enjoyed these thoughts. Somehow, Potter had become Draco's first thought in the morning and his last thought before he fell asleep.

Draco felt the need to stretch his legs after being incredibly lazy for hours, (what else was he meant to do?) and hoisted himself up to take a stroll through the garden. Draco opened the glass french doors and breathed deeply, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. The birds sang cheerfully, making Draco smile. His mother had once told him that as long as the birds sang, everything would be okay.

The garden was a vast maze of roses, his mother's favourite. They were all different colours, a rainbow of sweet smelling flowers. Draco felt calm here, safe from the world. He felt as though his mother was watching over him when he was here, in the place she loved most.

Draco wasn't sure how many hours had passed as he wandered aimlessly through the rows of flora. The sun had sank lower into the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over everything the light touched. Draco plucked a single white rose from the nearest bush, rolling the stem between his fingers. He brought it to his nose and let the scent wash over him, filled with peace from the familiarity. He was at the edge of the garden now, sitting on the slightly overgrown lawn and letting the nature around him overwhelm his senses.

"DRACO MALFOY!" A deep voice boomed, sending panic to Draco's very core. He whipped his head side to side, scanning the grounds for the intruder.

"Who's there?" Draco called out nervously. He edged backwards so that only his head poked out from the rose bushes.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Potter took long strides until he was directly in front of Draco. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently.

"I'm, uh, smelling the roses." Draco held out the white flower to prove his point. "They're lovely this time of year."

"Jesus, Malfoy." Potter ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. "Did you not hear me banging on the door? You're lucky I decided to look back here before breaking it down."

"Well it is quite a distance between here and the door." Draco snapped. He immediately regretted his choice in tone. Potter bent down and grabbed hold of Draco's wrist, hauling him up and dragging him to the house. Once inside, he slammed the glass doors shut. Draco winced and prayed that they wouldn't shatter. Potter leaned against the doors for a moment, head bent and breathing heavy before turning to face Draco. His expression was unreadable.

"I'm going to take a look round the house, wait here. I'll be asking you a few questions after." Potter did a quick lap around the living room, poking and lifting things here and there before going in the direction of the kitchen. He turned to Draco and pointed a finger at him. "Don't move."

"Yes, sir." Draco breathed. He was half scared, half turned on. He enjoyed a little man handling now and then, but this wasn't exactly the scenario he had imagined.

Thirty minutes later, Potter returned. He pulled out his notepad and pen, clicking it repeatedly. Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to Draco.

"Okay. So I have a few basic questions. They're a part of protocol, even though your last probation officer disregarded them." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Have you left this property since our last check in?"

"Clearly not." Draco replied, lifting his pant leg to reveal the metal bracelet around his ankle. He noticed Potter flush slightly.

"Right, yes. Has anyone besides myself entered this house since the last check in?"

"No."

"Have you attempted to contact anyone?"

"No."

"Has anyone attempted to contact you?"

"No."

"Are you feeling safe, with this current arrangement?"

"Am I feeling safe?" Draco repeated, taken aback.

"Yes, safe. Are you worried about anybody coming for you, are you feeling threatened? It's a part of my job to protect you as well."

"Oh, um, yes. I suppose I feel safe. I mean, my release was kept out of the press. I don't think anyone knows I'm here, or cares enough about me to find out." Draco was having trouble looking Potter in the eye, choosing to stare and his feet instead.

"Alright, good. That's good." Potter seemed to be unable to look at Draco as well.

"Is that all?" Draco asked, his voice unsteady.

"For now, yes." Potter stuffed his notepad into his jacket pocket. He looked around awkwardly for a moment, scratching at the shadow of scruff along his jaw. With a sigh, he exited the living room. About a million thoughts raced through Draco's mind. He shot up and took a few strides towards the green eyed man.

"Wait!" Draco blurted.

"What, Malfoy?" Potter looked over his shoulder with a roll of his eyes.

"What's, um, what's your first name?" The blonde felt himself flush from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

"It's none of your fucking business." Potter snapped before storming out of the Manor.

"Nice to meet you, None Of Your Fucking Business Potter." Draco muttered under his breath, even though the officer was well out of hearing range. He chuckled softly, still undeterred in his mission to break down Potter's walls.