"You have anything worthwhile to say in your defense?" Draco countered.
Potter lowered his head and shook it.
"Honesty. I appreciate that. You missed our appointment. You do know how to set an alarm, right?"
He nodded.
"I know you are notorious for skipping these meetings, but I'm your probation officer and guardian, now. I will not let you get away with it, understand?"
Potter snorted and smirked. He mouthed, "I don't care."
He was crashing. That Draco could see. He had gone home and processed the DOI by getting flat-out wasted. His response was to carry on like nothing had changed. But it had.
"Okay, Potter. Live in your denial... your drugged-out state. I told you that I can't leave you like this. I can't let you slowly kill yourself, which is what you are doing. I'm letting you adjust to your circumstances, Potter, before I take drastic action."
Potter rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Sit there. Lucky for you, it won't be all day, but if you fail to report tomorrow, you can adorn my office from 09 till I leave. How does that sound?"
Potter glared. 
"I'm not messing around, Potter. Evidently, you forgot what I explained to you yesterday. I'm your last chance to fix you. Then you get turned over to Azkaban for... a long time."
"You wouldn't," Potter mouthed. "You owe me."
Draco felt a lump in his stomach, and he had to keep from trembling. He couldn't meet Potter's eyes. Fuck, this was why he should have never agreed to do this. Potter figured out that pretty damn quick that he had considerable power over him. Draco had to fight to keep his emotions in check and look back up at him. Potter seemed wary, now, as he probably saw how much those words hurt him.
"I don't have a choice. I never had a choice," Draco whispered, fighting to keep the tears out of his eyes. "If I was just your probation officer... yeah... you're right Potter, I'd put up with your shit forever and never revoke your probation." He pulled out the DOI. "Kingsley trapped us both. I can't look away. I can go to Azkaban for my inaction. I have the means to stop you from doing... this. You'll hate me, scream at me, and probably try to kill me eventually, but I can stop this. Please... Potter... don't make me do it."
He met Potter's eyes. He was considering his words, but Draco knew that letting go, that hitting rock bottom, wasn't a place Potter was at, yet anyway. The Gryffindor wasn't going to give up so easily. They would do this song and dance until Draco essentially broke him, and it wouldn't be pretty. Potter was not in a state where he could easily recover from his pride and soul being shattered. Or at least the rest of it.
Potter looked away, as though mulling over his words. It was going to take many more to get through to Potter. All Draco could do was try to earn his trust along the way, which would be impossible after everything they had been through. Potter was going to hate him even more as they went through this process. Draco would have to take everything he had left, especially his lust for revenge, and Potter wouldn't love him for doing that. Hate was what was fueling Potter. Draco was sure of that.
Potter was grumbling internally, rekindling that fire that brewed his hate and reckless behavior. No, he wasn't going to yield anytime soon. Draco sighed and started reading, again. He was almost dreading what Potter's classified files were going to say. How Potter had defeated the Dark Lord was still a mystery. Draco had been there at the end of the Battle. Hearing Potter talk about Hallows and Horcruxes... the stuff of legend... and nightmares... was crazy. Potter even called himself the "Master of Death'. What the hell?