Chapter 8
Draco was initially genuinely making an effort to get some work done. It really wouldn’t do him any good to stare at him the entire time, even if he would’ve only been returning the states that Potter was laying on him.
But as Draco settled into his work- the broken monotony of the data entry doing wonders for the intense boredom that was earlier consuming him- he noticed the line of Potter's shoulders slumping and his eyes straying from the side of Draco's head.
It seemed like Potter was actually doing his work…
Draco has never seen Potter this focused. The constant energy that seemed to surround him at all times had seeped away, the only remnant being, a single finger tapping against the desk to the tune of the jukebox. Draco wondered if he could note that down as a symptom.
He opens the currently empty notebook, scrawling a quick ‘Calming presence’ as the first line. But if his inheritance has the calming method built into it, is the energy also a symptom? Draco noted it down just in case.
Draco takes the moment to look around Potter's office. The trash that was littering the man's desk when he walked in long since vanished. The drawer Potter had kicked close upon entering wasn’t even locked shut, much less warded.
Draco wonders briefly (or possibly not at all briefly) if it would go against his reform ideals to wait until Potter goes home and breaks into his office to snoop… It definitely would be right… There's no way it doesn’t. He glances at the drawer again.
Potter frowns and looks up from his work and Draco quickly averts his gaze from the drawer and to the rest of the room, as if he had simply been looking around. Potter doesn’t seem to notice his diverted attention, instead following Draco’s gaze around his office.
The calmness that was priorly present dissipates slightly.
“Sorry if it's a mess, I haven’t been ‘round a lot lately and it's really just fallen to shit hasn't it.” Potter gnaws on his lip reaching for his wand as if he was gonna rearrange his office right then in there.
“It really is fine Potter.” He glances at the cluttered shelves and the picture frames littering his desk, “It’s not the worst thing I’ve seen.”
“It’s not fine, you shouldn’t have to look at it.” Potter actually grabs his wand and starts moving his things around, rearranging the room completely.
Draco looks at his notebook. He has no idea what to put this down as. Potter had never been particularly organized before so it had to be a symptom? But an obsessive view of environment isn’t really a symptom is it? He jots it down anyways while Potter moves clutter around.
***
Harry’s such an idiot. He should’ve made his office nice for Malfoy before inviting him in. Of course Malfoy doesn’t want to see his cluttered ugly imperfect office. The ever present urge to set fire to his environment that had been present in his veins returned with a ferocity.
He moves his wand sharply and slams a trinket down on the shelf making Malfoys head snap up from the small notebook he had been writing in with a furrowed brow.
“Are you alright Potter?” Harry wanted to go run into a muggle street. Everything was going so well too.
His office decor swirled around him in a chaotic whirlwind. A paper weight hit the door with a thud before picking itself back up and rejoining the chaos, the shelf that was pressed against the far left wall began rapidly reorginzing several times over before it started dragging itself across the office, wobbling this way and that all the way.
Something shattered in the corner, Harry paused to direct his attention to that. A novelty snowball filled with dicks that George had gotten him when he came out as bi.
Small dicks scattered the floor. Harry blinks the absurdity of the situation snapping him out of the frenzy.
Malfoy was staring at him with concern as the bookshelf skidded to a stop half way across the wall he was intending on moving it to. Harry was filled with an intense urge to flee. To run as far and fast as he could in an instant. He needed to leave.
Then he remembered he was a wizard and apperated on the spot, leaving Malfoy alone in his disheveled office.
***
Draco couldn’t decide whether to linger on the absurd nature of Potter's outburst or take advantage of the perfect time to snoop. He waved his wand, sending the chaotic office back into order and repairing the snow globe.
Rolling up his sleeves, Draco gets to work looking around Potter's office. He starts with the bookshelf, there are less books on the shelf so much as trinkets and knick knacks.
Draco doesn’t linger on the shelf for long instead heading to Potters desk. If theres any sensative information he probably wards it right? Draco doesn’t linger on his own weak excuses for long, instead going right for the drawers.
He skips anything thats boring paperwork and given that is most of it he is sorely disappointed. No new hints. He finishes rummaging around in them anyways. In the last drawer on the right side of the desk there is finally something worth having deplorable morals for.
His own sweaters that had been being stolen for weeks sit carefully folded in the bottom of the drawer.
For a moment it occurs to Draco that that is a creepy thing to find in your coworkers desk, but these thoughts are quickly waved away when he remembers he is Potters mate, of course he’s going to need something of his close by…
Draco shuts the drawer thinking over his findings or rather lack thereof. As hes pondering one thing comes to the forefront of his mind. What exactly does it mean to be Potters Mate?