Draco wound his arms around him, as if he was desperate to be as close as possible to him, "I don’t think you do," he murmured in his ear, "I don’t think you understand: you’re  mine Harry James Potter. From now until the day you tell me fuck off. And I’m not letting them have you: not Dumbledore, not Voldemort, and certainly not Death. One day, a long time from now, we’ll - what’s the quote from that children’s story?" Harry shuddered at Draco’s breath in his ear, "The one your cloak is in? Ah - that’s it: one day, when we’re old and grey and creak when we walk, we shall both greet Death as old friends. But not now, Harry. Not now.  