Potter was shaking, and he growled, "I don't fucking care anymore. I don't care."
"Yes, you do."
Potter's green eyes locked on him and he stood up. Draco realized that Potter could easily attack him. He definitely didn't want that to happen, but Draco wasn't sure that he could draw his wand on Potter. The life debt tinged his soul, again. No, he couldn't. Not even to defend himself.
"Don't you fucking tell me what I feel! I don't care! I don't care about anything or anyone!"
Draco let Potter vent and rage on for a few minutes, spluttering mostly indirect rage, before Draco said, "I don't believe you."
Potter put his hands on his desk and leaned over, menacingly. "Really?"
"You played along when Samir was here."
Potter straightened up and took a step back. "That's different."
"How?" Draco pressed.
Potter was shaking. "He's just a kid... he didn't deserve... that."
"No. Neither did you, Harry. Not just this BS... but the war, too. Samir wanted the pain to end any way that he could, and he nearly lost everything."
Potter sat back down. His eyes were glazed over. "You said... that there... weren't words for what they did to him."
Draco debated. He was making a connection to his charge. Indeed, he never thought he'd get this many words out of Potter without bloodshed. "No... there isn't. They broke him in every way. I'm amazed he didn't die or be worse than he is."
"Crucio? Or...."
"Yeah, plenty of Crucio, but they did far worse than that. Took what innocence he had. He's a resilient kid, though. He survived... but he had no one. Spiraled into bad coping mechanisms to handle his emotional pain and losing what little he had. Sound familiar, Harry?"
Potter's shoulders sunk, again, and he gasped out, "Why even bother?"
"I can tell you that he asked that exact same question when I first met him. What would you say to that kid, if he was broken, craving potions and scared shitless in front of you?" Draco pressed, and Potter tensed. "Harry? Would you tell him to give up? Let the dementors have him, or spend the rest of his life on potions? Come on, Harry, answer me."
Potter closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's not the same!"
"It is, Harry," he said, softly.
"He's just a kid! He's just sixteen!"
"And what did we go through at 16?"
Potter looked at him and didn't answer.
"I know I met him when I was 16. Not as young as when you did, surely, but it was... brutal. I almost took the easy out, too. I did... in a few ways, but I know you went through so much by then. But your life doesn't have to be over. You can find peace."
"There's no such thing. Just pain..." Harry muttered.
"Is that what you'd tell Samir?"
"He's just a kid, he can have a life still!"
"And you at 21, can't?" Draco challenged.
Potter shook his head. "I did my job. I played my part. Walked down the one-way path... no. There's nothing left. I'll never be alright."
"That's not true. You just need some help, Harry."
"Stop calling me Harry, Malfoy! We aren't friends."
"No, but I'm your guardian, now."
Harry jerked his head up. "Fuck you! You're not my fucking guardian!"
"I'm sorry, but I...."
Potter jumped to his feet and walked towards him. "You're sorry? You're fucking sorry?!"
Draco tensed as Potter was in front of him. He couldn't do anything to stop him. He just stared at Potter, and tried to keep the memories at bay.
"You wanted this! You got Kingsley to get me to sign it! You wanted to control me, break me. Just like you always wanted to do."
"No! I wouldn't... I couldn't do that! 
"You're a Death Eater, Malfoy."
"I didn't want to be one," he whispered, again struggling to avoid a flashback. "I just want to help you, Harry."
"Why should believe that!?"
"Because I owe you my life. Come on, Harry. You have known I was here the whole time. You passed my door and nameplate every time to see your other probation officers. I've avoided this for as long as I could, and you know it."
Potter snarled under his breath and turned to leave. 
"You can't get your wand without my signature."
Suddenly, Potter's chair slammed into the wall. Boy Wonder must be pissed to do accidental magic. Potter took some deep breaths and turned. "Hand over the release!"
"We still have a few things to discuss, Harry," he said, calmly.
"Really? What be good? Stop drinking and get into fights with back-stabbing pricks? I got it!"
"I doubt it, but also you were arrested last night. Your curfew is from eight o'clock to seven, now. Don't break it again."
"Or what?" Potter scoffed. "You just told them to back off? I know that they'll either do the opposite or ignore you completely. I'm guessing the latter. So, what are you going to do? Nothing!"
"Potter, I told you I'm required to help you...."
"I'd like to see you try."
Draco stared him down. "We are getting too old for these games, Harry."
"It's my life, so fuck off," Harry spat.
"Be here tomorrow at ten."
"Yeah, sure will. You're the boss, n'all. Now, give me the release!"
Draco signed the form, and before he gave it to him, he said, "If you really want to take this further, I will do it, Harry. Get back home before 8. Stay there and clean. Be here tomorrow at 10."
"Yes, master!" Harry sneered, saluting him.
He just handed the paper and the stubborn prick stormed out. Draco took out parchment forms and signed the access deny request for Gringotts. Then he went down the hall to the storage room. Potter had been put on monitoring bracelets before, but he had always managed to break the locking charms eventually. They had only basic locking wards so it wasn't that hard for an ex-Auror to crack. Then again, Potter had never had to crack his spells before.
The silver band was designed as a way to quickly locate the person wearing it. Potter had had fun leading his Auror pursuers all over England when he had it locked on once. Draco smiled slightly as he realized that he had license to put whatever spells and locks he wanted on this thing. He was his guardian, and he would make Potter listen, one way or the other. His next stop was the Portkey Authority.