Don't Move (dm.hp)

E I G H T

i'm laughing @ myself because when i thought about writing this fic i had just intended it to be a one shot and now here we are :)

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One sunshiny Tuesday morning, Draco had decided enough was enough. It was time to snap out of this funk. His body ached from lack of movement, he was hungry, and he smelled. A shower and a meal was much needed.

After spending close to an hour in the shower, freshening up with his favourite products (which were all rather luxurious, would you expect anything less?) Draco slowly made his way down four flights of stairs to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and was disappointed to see there wasn't much variety in there. After all, he had been so caught up in the horror of his past and the pain of the possibility of having a future that didn't include Harry Potter, he hadn't asked that air head Weasley to take him grocery shopping. He settled for some soup and stale crackers.

Once he was finished eating, Draco began pacing laps around the main floor of the Manor. He wasn't in the mood to go outside, and the activities he used to do to pass the time just didn't seem appealing. He stopped in front of the ornate gold framed mirror that adorned one of the walls. Draco was unhappy with his appearance. The bags under his eyes were evidence of his sleepless night, the dark purple shadows contrasting in a sickly way against his pale skin. His hair had grown past his ears and fell in soft waves, as using the clay like hair product he used to seemed like too much effort with nobody to appreciate it. He had decided to dress comfortably, wearing a pair of low rise grey sweatpants and a white cropped top that his father definitely wouldn't approve of.

Draco had done more in the past few hours than he had in a month. It was exhausting, if he was being honest with himself. His body was tired, but his mind was in dire need of some stimulation. He picked up his sketch pad that had been sitting on the counter, and had collected a fine layer of dust on the cover from lack of use. Draco went back to his bedroom, a slight sweat breaking on his forehead. He had grown accustomed to only made the trip up and down the stairs when Weasley came by.

He sat cross legged on his bed, cocooning himself in his heavy white duvet. He began to draw Harry, as he had so many times before, sitting at the kitchen table with a mug in his hands. He was smiling, that big, bright, genuine smile Draco had only been lucky enough to see a handful of times. He wished he could make Harry smile like that every day. His eyes welled with tears, and they fell onto the paper, smudging Harry's hands and hair. Draco wiped his eyes quickly, not wanting to ruin anymore of him.

"Draco?" A voice said softly from the doorway. Draco snapped his head up and grey eyes met emerald. This is it, Draco thought, I've officially gone insane. His heart threatened to beat right out of his chest and he couldn't stop the tears even if he tried.

"Harry?" He whispered. The raven haired man took a few steps towards him, his every move cautious.

"Yeah, yeah it's me. Your um, your door was unlocked, so I just..." Harry quirked his head to the side, brows furrowed with confusion. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm fine." Draco wiped his eyes again and huffed out a breath. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"And that's got you upset? I thought you'd be glad, I was a bit of a dick to you." Harry said with a soft chuckle. "Um, sorry." He added quickly when Draco didn't laugh. He took a few more steps until he stood at the foot of Draco's bed.

"I didn't like how things left off." Draco said, his throat tight.

"Neither did I." Harry agreed. He sat on the bed, rather awkwardly as he was in his uniform, a clunky belt full of various things around his waist. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if he couldn't find the right words to say.

"I'm sorry." Draco croaked.

"For what?" Harry asked, leaning slightly closer to the blonde.

"For everything. For my father, and what he did. For Tom Riddle, being the horrible man he is. For my own involvement with both of them. I'm sorry that they did what they did." Draco rubbed his temples with shaky hands. "I don't even know why you're here, Harry."

"I'm your probation officer, you ditz." Harry said with playful eyes. His expression became morose as he continued. "You don't need to be sorry, Draco. You weren't the one who killed my parents. You didn't make Tom Riddle and your father go to my house that night. Hell, you didn't even know about it until I told you."

"That doesn't matter!" Draco exclaimed. "That doesn't matter, Harry. It's because of my family, my family's loyalty to that monster, that countless people have suffered. And I was a part of it."

"You told me before that you didn't exactly have a choice." Harry said gently.

"I didn't, but that doesn't change anything. I'd rather Riddle killed me than your parents, Harry." Draco sobbed.

"Draco, Draco, hey, it's okay." Harry cooed, inching
closer to Draco and placing a hand on the pile of blankets that surrounded him.

"And to think you're sitting here consoling me." Draco scoffed, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation. "When it should be the other way around."

"But I'm okay, Draco. And right now, you're not." Harry shifted even closer to the distressed man beside him until their legs were pressed against each other.

"Why did you come back?" Draco whimpered.

"I'm not sure, to be honest." Harry confessed. "I can't even make sense of it." He looked at Draco, and their eyes met with a burning intensity.

"What do you mean?" Draco breathed, his heart rate increasing.

"Even though every nerve in my body is screaming at me to run far, far away... I couldn't go another day without seeing you. I shouldn't be, Draco, I really shouldn't be, but I'm absolutely addicted to you."