Disclaimer: The rights of Harry Potter belong solely to J.K. Rowling and her associates. I thank her for allowing permission for persons to dabble in the world she created at will.

Title: Possess me, love me.

Warnings: slash, mentions of violence, mild sexual activity, non-canon

Summary: When Harry surrenders yet again to his Gryffindor impulses, Draco takes a drastic step in an effort to keep him safe.

Harry shifted slightly as he slowly rose out of the realm of sleep. He sighed contentedly as he became aware of the comfortable warmth surrounding him. He moved again, rubbing his cheek against silky material that he knew instinctively was not his red and gold blanket. His brows crinkled, and he had just about decided to open his eyes and investigate when a feather-light touch ghosted across his face, instantly relaxing him. He would always recognise the touch of those slender, soft fingers, no matter his state.

"Be still," a voice bid from just above him, "just sleep sweetheart."

Harry stilled at the command, and allowed the velvety voice to lull him back into dozing. He lazed in that state for a while, neither fully awake nor asleep, but conscious enough to revel in the physical and verbal caresses wafting over him. It generated a warm heat that radiated throughout him and brought a smile to his lips. Eventually though, he gave up on sleep, and gradually opened his eyes. He blinked owlishly to clear his vision minutely, before smiling when he realised that his head was cradled in Draco's lap. He certainly had not fallen asleep that way. Draco seemed to sense his confusion, for he lowered a hand to play with the hair strewn across Harry's forehead.

"I got here about an hour ago," he explained softly, one hand cupping Harry's gently rounded cheek, while the other slipped his glasses onto his face. "I sat beside you, and within a few minutes, you wormed your way up here."

Harry blushed at that. There was definitely a hint of humour, interlaced with pride in his boyfriend's tone. Draco knew him intimately, and could recall easily how finicky he used to be about touch, especially when he was not the initiator of it. They had been friends for three years now and in a relationship for almost two of them, but it had taken Harry several months to restrain his urge to flinch or cringe whenever Draco breached his personal space and touched him unexpectedly. And here he was now, seeking out Draco's comforting presence, even while asleep.

"Do you want to sleep some more, precious?" Draco inquired, mistaking Harry's continued silence for tiredness.

"Thinking," he murmured, in a slightly roughened voice.

"About how wonderful a pillow I make?" he quipped.

Harry laughed softly. "I was thinking about how much I love you," he corrected.

Draco's features softened at that. And no matter how awkward the position was, he bent down so that he could gently claim Harry's lips.

"Have you slept enough though?" he asked after a few minutes. "You still have dark circles under your eyes."

Harry sighed, looking away. "It'll take more than one nap to make up for all the sleep I've lost," he murmured, twisting so that he facing away from him. He felt Draco stiffen at his words, and turning back, he saw that his expression was far from calm. He nipped his lip, although he managed to quell the urge to move away from him. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Hush," Draco bid, his expression clearing in seconds. "I just wish you would have told me sooner, that's all. Seeing you like that was quite disturbing. You must tell me these things, Harry. How can I take care of you if I do not know when something is wrong?"

The light scold was clearly evident in his tone, and Harry had the grace to look away, embarrassed. Momentarily though, he grasped Draco's hand in one of his, bringing it up to his lips for an apologetic kiss. "Forgive me?" he whispered, pressing a second kiss to the soft skin.

Draco held his gaze a moment longer before huffing. "How can I possibly stay annoyed with you when you apologise so sweetly?"

"You can't?" Harry offered, hopefully.

"Indeed. However, I am going to take you to the Matron later."

Harry pouted minutely at that. "I don't want to," he whined. He hated the Hospital Wing.

"None of that sweetheart," Draco rebuked gently, a hint of steel in his tone. "It's for your own good. I'm certain she can help you get to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep," he countered. "If I do there's a chance it'll happen again. I won't risk it. Can't I just stay here with you?"

It was one of the perks of having a Slytherin boyfriend, Harry thought. The dungeons were so extensive that Professor Snape had been gracious enough to assign the upper year students individual rooms. They often took full advantage of it. Draco was having none of it now though.

"Please do not argue with me about this," Draco stated, with forced patience. "We'll find you a potion that will ensure that you get some sleep. I'll not have your health deteriorate because of this."

Harry wanted to protest about that, but truly, he was preening a bit internally at the caring edge to Draco's words. He would never tire of seeing proof of Draco's love for him. "What did you do while I was sleeping?"

"Watching you mostly," he admitted. "But I also checked over your Potions assignment. No, don't twist your face like that Harry. I made some notes in the margins for you that should help."

"It won't matter," he grumbled. "He'll fail me anyway."

"That is not true," Draco countered. "Have you gotten anything less than an E since I started checking your work over?"

"No," Harry admitted grudgingly. "He still doesn't like me though."

"And you, him. So you are even."

"Stop being so logical," Harry ordered, although he was far from annoyed.

It was nice, he decided. Staying here like this together, without the worries of the outside world pressing down against them. It was really a shame that they could not remain here in such a blissful state forever.

Harry barely resisted the urge to wince as Draco's thunderous grey eyes bore down on him. He had known from the start that his boyfriend would be upset, if not down-right angry with him for what he had done. After all, time after time, Draco had pleaded with him, asked him or had outright demanded that he cease with his "thrice damned Gryffindor habits", and take the time to think rationally. Draco's logic was that doing this stop putting him in dangerous situations. Harry always did the same thing anything he raised this argument; he nodded and agreed. After all, he knew that his boyfriend was simply looking after his safety, and if it meant that he would take fewer trips to the Hospital Wing, he was all for it.

However, this time had been different. All of their discussions had been forgotten the moment he had thought that his godfather was in danger. Could Draco really blame him for running off to the Ministry as he had done? He was certain that he would have done the same if he had gotten a vision of his beloved mother or father being held hostage. He had scared him with his actions, he expected. Perhaps that fear had been converted to anger and now he wanted to seek comeuppance from him for it. He could only hope that he escaped unscathed from it, he thought worriedly, as Draco crossed the room to stand in front of him.

Despite himself, Harry flinched when Draco's hand rose. His boyfriend noted the action, and if anything, his expression grew more furious. This time though, Harry was certain that that anger was not directed toward him, but rather at his relatives. Years of their kind treatment had left him vulnerable to certain gestures – a raised hand being high among them. He knew instinctively that Draco would not harm him, but the events of the past few hours had coloured his actions, and so he had reacted instinctively. Draco's hand descended to his face, however, far from stinging, his fingers ghosted along the dark bruise on his face. Madam Pomfrey had applied a salve to it, but it would still be a few days before it faded completely. The mild sting he felt as the blond stroked the mark did not daunt him; he leaned into the touch, his eyes falling close with a contented purr as Draco's hand moved to cup his cheek completely.

"Draco," he murmured, allowing his eyes to drift close.

His Slytherin's thumb stroked gently down his skin for a moment, before, with a sigh, his hands darted out, wrapping around Harry's torso before pulling him into his chest. Ignoring the twinge of pain the action caused, Harry's arms rose to return the hug, and he nuzzled his head deeper into the groove between Draco's shoulder and neck.

"Do not mistake me," Draco whispered, "I am not at all pleased with you." Yet, contrary to his words, his hands started roving soothingly along the expanse of Harry's back.

Harry stiffened at his words, attempting to pull away. Draco however was firm, pressing him tighter against him in a clear warning to cease the action. With a soft whimper, Harry obeyed.

"Indeed," Draco continued moments later, "I spent the majority of the night deciding exactly what I would say or do to you."

"Do?" Harry murmured nervously.

"Yes, do," he confirmed with a huff. "I thought of everything, Harry James, from putting a tracing charm on you, to putting a ward around Hogwarts that would stop you from leaving without me."

"You can't do that."

"I could try," Draco returned gruffly. "Ultimately though, I decided that this entire mess is my fault."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, forcibly pulling back to look into his eyes. "Your fault?"

"Yes mine," he confirmed, his eyes glinting. "Obviously, I have not done enough to inspire respect from you. It's the only explanation I can come up with for your actions these past few hours."

"I don't understand. Respect?"

"Yes respect, Harry," Draco said with a nod. "If you had even an iota of respect for me as your boyfriend, I am certain that you would not have run off as you had done. Certainly I would have deserved more than a paltry message on a hastily ripped parchment telling me that the love of my life was going to risk his neck on a dream. And the spell attached to it that rendered me immobile? I take it that was to ensure that I could not follow to give you the thorough chewing out you deserved."

"You seem to be doing a pretty good job to me," Harry grumbled, before lowering his gaze at the rebuking look Draco gave him. "I wasn't doing it to be disrespectful Draco," he said presently. "I just didn't want you to interfere."

"Yes, because presenting a logical course of action is so disruptive."

"Draco-"

"We've had words about this before," Draco interrupted. "You know what I think of these damned Gryffindor habits of yours, and you've promised me time and time again that you would think before you acted. Apparently I've either asked too much of you or you just do not care for me."

"I do!" Harry protested. "Draco, I love you, you know that."

"Loving me and respecting me is two different things, Harry. You've accused me of being too old fashioned numerous times, and I've done my best to curtail my habits because of this. However, you've proven to me tonight that perhaps I should not have given you the leeway I have, especially if it leads to disasters like this. Merlin Harry, you were cursed at least three times!"

Draco's hands reached up to grasp his upper arms, and Harry could only gasp as he was shook roughly for a few moments before the older wizard crushed him against him once more. "What would I have done if you had died Harry?" he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "The world is celebrating You-Know-Who's demise, but what about me? Merlin, I could have lost you. You never think about these things. Why can't you just consider your own safety for once? Sirius was safely abed while you were cavorting all over the country – breaking quite a few laws I might add."

"Dumbledore handled it."

"He should have thrown you to the wolves," Draco declared. "Maybe that would have taught you."

"Draco, I couldn't just-"

"Take the time to floo-call Sirius? No excuses Harry. I will not listen to them."

Harry was silent for a long moment, a feeling of dread rising up within him. The more he spoke, the angrier Draco seemed to be becoming. Was this the beginning of the end for them?

He licked his lips, prepared to ask that very question when the older wizard continued. "I do not fault your heart, Harry. I know you will do anything for the people you care for. But must you hurt me in the process?"

"I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just couldn't risk losing you too," he admitted. "I'm sorry you saw it as disrespect, but Draco, I was thinking - thinking that I would not be able to concentrate if you were there. Having Ron and Hermione there was hard enough. I wouldn't have been able to function if you were there as well."

"If I had been there Harry," Draco countered, "there would not be a single bruise on you."

Harry had no response to that; instead he dropped his head down further against Draco's chest with a sigh. He was tired of this conversation now; he did not want to argue about what could have or should have happened any longer. He understood Draco's concern, but despite the injuries he had endured, to him it was worth it. Voldemort was gone now and they would be free to live their lives without that threat hanging over them. Why was Draco not seeing that? He sighed, wondering if there was any way to close this discussion peacefully. This was not at all what he had expected when he had discharged himself from the Hospital Wing prematurely. Draco had not come to him last night, nor was there any sign of him that morning, which was why Harry had come here to him. He had wanted comfort and reassurance while he finished processing everything, and instead he had gotten this. He just wanted it to end.

"Draco," he began to that effect. "I cannot change what I did. I can't say that I regret it, although I admit I could have been a lot more careful. But I couldn't just take that risk when there was a chance that Sirius would die. I shouldn't have kept you away – I know that you were probably very worried for me, and for that I'm sorry. I won't apologise for the rest though, but I can say that I will try to be more careful in the future."

Draco looked at him for a long moment before freeing a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Harry recognised the gesture as one the blond made when seeking patience. Draco pinned him with a firm look a moment later, one that had Harry nipping on his lip nervously. He nodded then, as if he had come to a decision.

"I knew it would come to this," he declared, stepping back from him.

Harry could only look on with confusion as Draco walked away from him, before returning with a velvet pouch.

"I should have done this from the start," he continued, untying the pouch. "I should have known talking to you would be pointless. But then again, maybe I did know. Why else would I have asked Father to withdraw this from the family vault for me?"

"Your father?"

Draco spoke on as if he hadn't heard him, absentmindedly throwing the pouch behind him. "Father assures me it was the same way with Mother. I can see it truly. You two are as stubborn as mules. Perhaps that is why you get along so smashingly. Perhaps this method will work wonders on you as well."

"What on earth are you talking about Draco?" Harry asked, with slight exasperation. "And what are you holding?"

Draco pinned him with a look. "I'm talking about the fact that you seem not to care two wits about my concern for you. I doubt you would give me such half-hearted reasoning for your actions otherwise. Perhaps you feel you can treat me so indifferently because I am your boyfriend. Well no more, Harry. We'll see if you can show me a bit more respect as my husband. And even if you don't, at least I will have more grounds under which to keep you in check."

"Husband?" Harry repeated dully. His heart pounded at the implications of the title, even as his mind drew a blank. He certainly had not agreed to be Draco's spouse. Hell, he did not even remember being asked.

"Yes Harry, husband," Draco confirmed, his expression daring him to contradict his words. "Apparently I cannot trust you to be away from me without getting into trouble, nor will you heed my requests to take care. Perhaps if we are married you will be more receptive to my concerns. And even if you aren't, at least I will have greater access to you to better instil common reasoning in you."

Declaration made, Draco's clenched hand opened, revealing a silver, engagement band. Within seconds though, its location moved, for, with a gentleness that belied the heat of his words, Draco slipped the ring onto his finger. The weight felt alien to him despite the comfortable fit, however-

"You're marrying me to control me?" Harry inquired, forcibly squashing the happiness that rose within him, no matter how unorthodox the proposal. "That's why you want to marry me?"

"Of course not, you silly minx," Draco replied immediately, his eyes softening and his hesitance.

"It seems that way to me," he argued.

Draco chuckled, raising Harry's hand up for a delicate kiss. "What I want to do," he corrected, "is bind you so firmly to my side that you will never want to leave it. What I want Harry James, is to possess you so completely that you will actually take heed of my words, realise my love for you, and allow me to do my duty to you. You are mine Harry, mine to cherish, love and protect. I am your shield against the world. I want you to recognise that."

Harry's heart fluttered at the possessive tone Draco adopted. Some would be disturbed by it, but to Harry, it was a soothing balm that further healed the scars of neglect left by the Dursleys. It was what he had always wanted - to belong. To have someone in the world who actually wanted him, flaws and all, who did not want him for his fame, but rather wanted him solely because of who he was. Draco's words had implied a lot of things, and although Harry knew that this proposal was spurred on partly by his own rash actions, he knew that this was not done impulsively. This had been a long time in coming, sped up undoubtedly by circumstances, but it was genuine.

And so, Harry knew he would not protest. Draco had done so much for him in the past few years, even had helped him before they had officially become a couple. With him, Harry had found true happiness and love, something none of his friends had been able to grant him – at least not to the extent that he wanted. Draco had looked beyond his exterior, and had seen the vulnerable person within him, the person he tried to hide behind his brave, rash Gryffindor persona. And Draco had nurtured that part of him, lavishing him with all of the love and care that he had always envied others for having. Even those times when they argued, or Draco out rightly demanded something from him, a kernel of warmth always curled lazily within him, a pleasant acknowledgement that Draco was acting the way he was out of love for him. He had to, otherwise he would have just washed his hands of him entirely and move on to someone a lot more worthy of his attentions.

But no, Draco had always remained with him, and now, there was a ring firmly in place on his finger. Draco meant to keep him by his side forever. There would never be a need for Harry to worry again about being replaced. Draco, with that one gesture had made it abundantly clear that Harry was his to love, and that he would do whatever it took to keep him safe. And Harry was certain that, even if they occasionally butted heads in the future, he would still experience some pleasure in knowing that what Draco would do would be done out of love, nothing more, nothing less. That did not mean though that he was about to take his highhandedness without protest.

"Must you always be so demanding, ferret?" he asked pertly, smirking at the way Draco frowned at the name. "The least you could do is ask you know. I have half the mind to refuse on principle. I'll have to ask your mom how she deals with your father, I suppose. I will not stand for your spoiled brat tendencies for much longer, so that definitely will have to change."

Draco stared at him for a long moment, before chuckling at his lopsided agreement. "You always have to have the last word," he huffed, before pulling Harry to him again, this time seizing his lips. The suddenness of it took Harry's breath away, but recovering, he eagerly participated and parted his lips to allow entry. He moaned as Draco's tongue ruthlessly plundered his mouth, before seizing dominance and returning the favour, stopping only when his lungs screamed for air. Draco allowed him only a moment's respite, before he re-claimed those plump lips, their tongues duelling lazily this time.

The feelings between them rose swiftly, the need for more coming to the fore. Harry easily allowed Draco to propel him toward the bed, their hands roving while their tongues continued their intimate dance. Draco fell backwards on it with a grunt, pulling Harry down with him so that he landed on his chest. They lost themselves in the pleasure for long moments, before, with a growl, Draco flipped them over, a smirk on his face as he quickly worked Harry's shirt free of his pants before lifting it to nip at that sensitive spot near Harry's hip. Harry's eyes closed even as he bucked slightly; bracing himself for the pleasurable assault he knew was coming. However, it never did. With a discontented moan, Harry forced his eyes open, to look down at Draco. His ardour quickly cooled at the taut look on Draco's face. He swallowed, having completely forgotten about the state of his body.

Draco's gaze was transfixed on the thick, raised scar that ran across his stomach from an improperly cast disembowelment charm. He had crudely healed it, and Madam Pomfrey had tended to it, ensuring that it would not become infected. She had assured him that with the salve she provided, the scar would be gone within a month, but Draco did not know that.

"It's not permanent," he whispered reassuringly, reaching down to run his fingers through Draco's silky blond hair. Draco did not respond, slightly trembling fingers instead moving to stroke along it with the same tenderness he had offered the bruise on his cheek.

"Are you hurt elsewhere?" he asked presently, his voice thick with emotions. "Merlin, I was busy tearing strips off you when I should have been checking you for harm."

The self-loathing bothered Harry, so he hurried to reassure him. "You didn't know."

"Is there more?" he demanded

"There's a burn on my back," he admitted. "A few bruises as well I wager."

He half expected it when Draco sat up, before urging him to roll over. Carefully he did, sighing when his shirt was lifted again. The cool air in combination with Draco's fixed gaze caused him to squirm uncomfortably, but he settled when Draco pressed a warm hand to the small of his back.

"This must have hurt."

"It didn't at the time. Adrenaline I guess."

"How did you get this?" he asked, in a deceptively calm tone.

Harry squirmed again, not wanting a return of Draco's previous anger, but knowing that there was no distracting him when he was in this state, he responded. "I fell just as someone's spell bounced off a wall. It hit a lamp which landed on me. It burned through my clothes before I could get it out."

Harry felt Draco moving then, and turning, he watched with slightly widened eyes as he bent to press his lips against the shiny skin.

"Much better," Harry said, with a teasing edge, trying to shake Draco out of his dismal mood.

Despite himself, Draco chuckled, although seconds later, Harry gasped when his hand smacked his bum once as he straightened. "Don't try to distract me by being cute, Harry James," he told him gruffly. "Any others?"

"No," he answered, "everything else was internal."

"And that is supposed to reassure me?" he asked dryly, before helping him roll back over. Straddling his hips, Draco reached down to cup his face, searching it thoroughly. "You're tired," he declared after a few moments, his thumbs tracing gentle circles over his skin.

"I'm fine."

"You discharged yourself, I suppose," he continued, not listening to him. "I doubt the Matron would have let you out in this condition. I should have known that from the moment you showed up here. I ought to send you right back to her."

Harry squirmed at that. "I promised to come back after a lunch."

"You spoke to her?"

"I left a note?" he offered, tentatively.

Draco huffed, before breaking down into rueful chuckles. "And this is why we need to be married. I won't send you back for now on the condition that you sleep. You need some more rest. You did eat breakfast?"

"Yes. And I swallowed all those disgusting potions."

"Good boy," he praised. "I'm certain though she's saved her most vilest to grace you with when you return."

"If."

"When."

"Draco-"

"Harry."

"Fine," he grumbled, averting his gaze. "But you'll go with me this time. Make sure she doesn't lock me away forever?"

"You'd deserve it if she did," he declared. "But I would swiftly grow bored without your company, so I suppose I will help you bargain. Now, let's get you comfortable shall we?"

Without waiting for a response, Draco drew his wand before nimbly transfiguring Harry's clothing into a long nightshirt. Despite himself, Harry flushed at the actions. While he had never shared full intimacy with the blond, they had seen each other in various states of undress. It was still somewhat embarrassing though for Draco to attend to him so personally, and so he squirmed, something that seemed to amuse Draco.

Carefully, Draco moved off him, settling easily beside him on the bed. "Close your eyes now," he bid in a soft tone, starting up a soothing caress.

Despite himself, Harry found himself growing quickly tired, the stress of the past day or so catching up to him. "Stay with me?" he asked sleepily.

"I'll stay till you are asleep," he assured. Before Harry could protest, he continued, explaining. "I have to talk to my parents. They need to know that we are engaged now. Father can take control of the situation then."

"Hmm?"

"The press and what not," Draco said vaguely, softening his tone. "I've no doubt that reporters will start swarming the school by this afternoon. It's not that I don't trust the headmaster, but I rather have my father in on this as well. Either way, I think you're in for a busy afternoon, Hospital Wing visit aside. You have a lot to answer for."

"Don't want to," Harry grumbled.

"You have to though," Draco told him. "You won't be alone for a second though. I have a right now to be there with you, and I'm sure father will send over our solicitor if he cannot make it here himself. No one will take advantage of you, I swear. Now, Harry James, you are supposed to be sleeping. What do you need, a bed time story?"

"A kiss would be nice."

"Brat," he retorted even as he bent to grace him with one.

"You love me though."

Draco smiled at that declaration, noting the way that Harry's limbs had grown heavy as he tethered on the cusp of sleep. "I do, with all my heart. Now sleep."

And Harry did.

Draco was right as usual. The afternoon, and the subsequent days proved to be hectic. The wizarding world bombarded him, first for news of his victory, and then on his engagement. It was a tough time, but he soldiered through. If he had been expecting a long engagement, he had been wrong. The day after his sixteenth birthday found Harry reciting his vows before a crowd of friends and family. It was a joyous occasion, although Harry had found himself blushing throughout the ceremony. He hadn't realised why Draco had insisted on a traditional vow exchange until he found himself swearing, among other things, obedience to his husband. A small smattering of laughter had erupted from those who knew him best at that, and even Draco had an amused glint in his eyes. Harry knew that he would have the last laugh though. Narcissa had promised (and had already started to show him) numerous ways to gain an upper hand on his husband. He was quite looking forward to wrapping the blond around his finger.

But those were not thoughts for now, he decided, from his spot on their marriage bed. There would be time enough later for scheming and manipulations. For now, he would focus solely on the wizard slowly making his way across the room to him, a bath robe loosely draped around his frame. This was their night, a night for discovery and exploration, a night for them to solidify their love in the most intimate way while simultaneously cementing the vows they had made to each other earlier in the day. Harry had no idea of what the future would bring for him – for them – but he knew what he faced now. And, as Draco's body loomed above him, and his lips were claimed, Harry was certain of one thing. He was loved, and that was one thing that would never, ever change.