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Pretty Kitty	By : CherryStarburst Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 156654 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 19
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- 21
“Kitten!” Fred exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Harry
from behind and twirling him around. Harry, who hadn't realised Fred
was anywhere near him, startled, yowling and clawing at Fred.

“I'm
so happy it doesn't hurt,” Fred sang, releasing Harry, only to
turn the boy around and wrap arms around his waist. Harry shot him a
very disgruntled look, trying to struggle out of the hold, his heart
still beating a mile a minute. Fred had absolutely terrified him for
a moment.

“What... what the fuck?” Harry gasped,
panting. Fred finally took in Harry's state and frowned, patting his
head.

“Sorry, I'm just so excited!” he called out
to the whole corridor. It was lesson change-over, and Fred had just
attracted quite a lot of attention. Heads shook as people muttered
about that 'damn George Weasley'. Fred merely smiled at Harry. “Go
on, ask me why!”

Harry shot him a deadpan look and
turned around, intending to escape Fred's clutches before he did
anything else that Harry would have to kill him for. Fred grabbed his
arm and pushed him against a nearby wall, still grinning. Harry
glared at him nastily .

“Go ooon,” Fred crooned,
startling to lightly kiss Harry's neck. Harry growled, causing Fred
to chuckle. Harry realised that, if he didn't want to walk into
Transfiguration sporting an erection, he'd have to give in to Fred's
demands.

“Fine!” Harry snapped, looking at the
ceiling to avoid Fred's amused, triumphant gaze. “Why the hell
are you being so annoying?”

Fred's face fell slightly
at the less-than-anticipated question. That wasn't how it was
supposed to go at all!

Just as Fred leant in to begin
torturing Harry with erotic kisses in order to get Harry to ask
properly, a quiet 'hem hem'
interrupted them.

Both Harry and Fred turned their gazes to
face the intruder. Umbridge. Fred's eyes narrowed minusculey, before
he smiled easily, disarmingly. Harry knew that look- Fred was just
trying to get Umbridge to lay off telling them off, but it wouldn't
really work.

“Detention,” Umbridge said chirpily.
Fred groaned, leaning his head on the wall, beside Harry's, as Harry
winced at the mere mention of the dreaded punishment. His hand ached
in memory.

“That's hardly fair, we were only
cannoodling a bit. I
saw Malfoy snogging the life out of a Slytherin this morning, why
don't you go give him a detention?” Fred asked. Harry scowled
at him and hit the redhead's chest. Fred was only going to make the
situation worse, in that 'charming' way of his.

“It is
against the rules to show such disturbing public displays,”
Umbridge said brightly. Fred's eyes turned dangerous.

Harry
gulped.

“'Disturbing'? Is that because we're both
blokes?” he snapped, pushing off Harry- whom he had still kept
pinned to the wall, despite Harry's wriggling- and facing Umbridge
dead on. Harry huffed and grabbed Fred's arm, beginning to tug him
away.

Fred frowned at Harry. “Come on, just let me-”

“-Stop it, Fr- er, George,” Harry cut Fred off,
pulling the protesting redhead down the corridor. Fred may believe
that he could scold a teacher and get away with it, but Harry knew
better. Umbridge would eat the teen alive.

“Five
o'clock, my office tonight, Mr Potter. Same time tomorrow evening for
you, Mr Weasley,” Umbridge called after them, before turning
and walking off. Fred sneered at her pink clothed retreating back,
wand twitching in his hand. Harry saw the wand and snatched it away.

“Stop it F- Forge,” Harry repeated. Fred looked
at him in amusement for the slip, and a few people passing gave him
odd looks. Only the twins called themselves by those strange
nicknames.

“All right, all right, for you, Harry,”
Fred told him, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead. “'Course,
since I can't do anything to Umbridge now, I suppose I'll just have
to follow you to your detention and get her when she least suspects
it.”

Harry's eyes went impossibly wide at the mere
suggestion of Fred watching his detention, and he whirled to face the
boy dead on. Fred raised his eyebrows at the panicked look.

“Don't
you dare follow me!” Harry hissed.

“Harry?”
Fred asked, reaching out for the boy, who pulled back. Harry shot him
a narrow-eyed glare.

“Promise you won't follow me to
detention, or I'll never talk to you again,” Harry demanded.
Fred knew the threat was slightly over-board. Harry couldn't get away
with never talking to Fred again, the redhead angered him too much.
However, he never really looked forward to dealing with a pissed-off
catboy, and neither did George, who would very likely end up being in
the middle.

“Urgh, fine, I won't,” Fred promised.
The moment he heard that, Harry turned and walked off to his next
class without saying anything else, Fred left watching him go, not
wanting to risk offering to walk him to class.

“I
won't, doesn't mean no one else
can,” he murmured to himself, immediately coming up with a
plan. He was curious.

A curious Weasley was a dangerous
thing.

XxXxXxX

“That... that's...” George
said as Fred whispered to him at dinner. Hermione stared at Fred
incredulously.

“Incredibly stupid?” she
suggested. Ron gulped, tugging at the collar of his shirt, as if
suddenly overly hot.

“Something you shouldn't do?”
he put in, voice slightly strained. He at least had to say something,
much as he wanted Fred and George to go through with their new plan.
Harry would murder him if he found out Ron hadn't said
anything.

“Brilliant!” George gasped, looking at
Fred adoringly. “If we weren't surrounded by people right
now...” he murmured, voice husky. Ron turned slightly green and
Hermione looked away.

“I would murder you,” a
voice behind the twins finished the sentence for George. They
immediately swivelled in their seats, and stared at an incredibly
brassed off Harry Potter, who was staring at the twins with fire in
his eyes.

“Kitten... didn't see you there,”
George croaked out weakly. Fred slunk down in his seat as Harry shot
him an accusing glare.

“You're a right bastard,”
Harry accused, before turning and stalking out of the hall. The twins
looked after him, about to jump up and follow, when Hermione cleared
her throat. They turned to look at her, and she grimaced.

“Stop
with the twin-thing,” she scolded, “and I don't think
following him would be such a good idea at the moment.” Ron
nodded in agreement, and George frowned when he took in his brother's
pasty complexion.

“Well, it's better than leaving him
to go and brood,” Fred pointed out, about to stand again.
Hermione tutted, and Fred couldn't resist the sudden interest that
welled within him. Hermione Granger knew something.

“You know what I think would be even better?”
she asked, smiling at them sweetly. They cocked their heads in
unison, and Ron eyed her speculatively. Hermione turned to him, and
grinned.

“How about we find out what Ron knows?”
she suggested. Ron gasped sharply, Fred raised his eyebrows, and
George laughed, suddenly realising what Ron's strange behaviour
meant. He had information, and was awful at concealing it.

“That's
a very good idea,” he said to Hermione, before quickly leaning
over the table and grabbing onto Ron's robes as the boy made to
vault. Harry was going to be furious with his best friend.

But
maybe, to Ron, it was worth it.

“Ronnikins, running's
not such a good idea,” Fred told him, quickly rounding the
table and grabbing one of Ron's arms. He pulled his brother out of
the hall, Hermione and George quick to follow.

XxXxXxX

“Look,
I... well... Harry begged me not to! I really did want to help him,
but bloody hell, those eyes he gives...”

Ron had just
finished explaining what he had discovered about Harry, and was met
with rather angry reactions.

Fred sighed and flopped back
down onto the chair he'd risen from, ready to throttle Ron. He
remembered the look Harry gave him that afternoon, and had to concede
that Ron had an awfully good point.

“I'm gonna kill
her,” George murmured, looking off to the side, lost in his
thoughts. Fred murmured a distracted agreement.

“Blood
quill's were made illegal decades ago! How has she got one?”
Hermione whispered, horrified at the thought of what Umbridge had
used on Harry. “They were used for torture!”

“Reckon
we can get one for tomorrow?” Fred asked quietly, not looking
at George, who knew exactly who Fred was talking to. He shrugged,
thinking.

“Bet Sirius had got one in that house of
his.” Everyone stared at Ron, who had just made the suggestion.
Ron looked slightly affronted at the shock he was being presented
with. “What? Harry is my
mate, you know.”

Fred smiled softly, and George looked
away to keep from laughing at the influence they'd had on Ron over
the years. Hermione twisted her lips, but didn't look inclined to
disagree with the plot the twins were slowly formulating.

“Can
we trust owls though? I bet all sorts of people are tampering with
the mail nowadays,” George pointed out. Fred's mind was
elsewhere, his gaze on the steadily burning fireplace. “Fred?”
George asked, nudging his twin, who looked slightly unfocused. Fred
jerked back to reality, realising exactly where his eyes were.

“How
about the floo?” Fred suddenly asked. “We'll need to
write to him right now, see if we can fix it so that he floo's the
common room tonight, when no-one else is up.”

“That's...
rather ingenious,” Hermione murmured thoughtfully, nodding.
“But why do we need it tonight? Surely you're not in that much
of a rush.”

Fred, suddenly realising what he had failed
to inform the group of, turned to George, laughter in his eyes. “Oh
yeah, by the way, George? You've got a detention with Umbridge
tomorrow night.”

George's eyes widened, before he glared
at his twin. “You little wanker,” he snapped, “stop
getting me into detention!”

“No, no, don't be
mad,” Hermione piped up, reading Fred's mind. Fred looked
smugly at George. “This could work to our
advantage.”

XxXxXxX

Harry grimaced, clutching his
hand. The wounds had been ripped open, and it felt quite agonising.
Umbridge was still scribbling on some parchment, but she looked up
when she heard Harry stop writing.

Harry shot her a weary
glare, before shakily picking up the quill again. Blood was dripping
down his hand, hitting the parchment.

“Is- is this what
you're going to use on George tomorrow?” Harry asked, the
question quiet, but filling the silent room. Umbridge raised an
eyebrow at the sudden question.

“I'm not feeling very
inclined to discuss my plans with you, Mr Potter,” she told him
quietly, before going back to her work.

Harry grit his teeth,
and began to write lines once more.

XxXxXxX

“You
want me to give you, you,
a highly dangerous, very illegal, dark object from my house,”
Sirius repeated what the twins had asked. They both fixed him with
innocent looks that Sirius didn't buy. He had been a prankster
himself, back in the days.

And still was, actually.

“Why
not? Sounds like a great idea, doesn't it Forge?”

“Ingenious,
really, Gred-”

“All right, all right, don't you
start,” Sirius grumbled, wondering what on earth Harry saw in
them. Speaking of Harry, where was he? He looked around the common
room. It was deserted, the twins apparently having set off dung bombs
ten minutes ago. Only the twins, Hermione, and Ron were
present.

“Where's Harry?” he asked. Fred and
George fixed him with solemn looks and Hermione winced. No one seemed
to want to say anything, before Ron stood, moved to the fireplace,
and crouched in front of it, preparing himself for a long and angry
talk.

“That's the thing, you see...”

XxXxXxX

That
night, when Harry entered the common room, it was to see Fred,
George, Ron and Hermione sitting in tense silence, waiting for him.
His eyes widened and he shoved his hands into his robe pockets. His
right hand was bleeding, and his left hand was smeared with the
blood.

Ron and Hermione stood and made their way to him.
Hermione stopped in front of him and sighed, almost in exasperation,
before hugging him tightly. Harry only just stopped himself from
raising his hands and returning the hug.

“You're such
an idiot,” she said, fondly, angrily, before pulling away. Ron
looked at him apologetically.

“Sorry, they got it out
of me.” Harry got the feeling Ron wasn't very sorry at all, but
he smiled tightly. He really shouldn't have asked Ron to keep such a
secret- shouldn't have told him in the first place. The boy cared far
too much for Harry, so did Hermione. It warmed him.

“Right,”
Harry murmured. They then both retreated to their dormitories, and
Harry turned to Fred and George. Both were staring at the fire. He
wondered if he could just sneak up to his dormitory.

“Don't
think about it, Harry,” Fred told him sternly. Harry winced-
he'd actually said 'Harry', not 'kitty' or some mutated form of their
favourite endearment. “Come over here.”

Harry cast
a longing glance at the entrance to the boy's dormitory staircase,
before hesitantly making his way over to Fred and George, who were
both sitting on a sofa right in front of the merrily crackling
fire.

As he stopped in front of them, George's hand shot out
and grabbed his arm, pulling Harry down so he was sitting on his lap,
legs strewn over Fred's. Fred and George then proceeded to pull
Harry's hands out of his pockets, despite the struggling.

“Bloody
hell,” Fred breathed, staring at Harry's blood covered right
hand, which was still oozing. Harry attempting to struggle away from
George, who wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him tight
against his chest. Fred moved closer, holding Harry's hand, and
gingerly placed a kiss on the bloodied knuckles.

“Why
didn't you tell us?” George asked stiffly, producing a wet rag
seemingly from nowhere, a feat which Harry couldn't help marvelling
at. George took his right hand from Fred and proceeded to clean off
the blood, ignoring when he grazed the cuts and Harry hissed in pain,
trying to wriggle away.

“Well... you know...”
Harry said, trying to worm his way out of giving an actual
explanation. Because the real reason would sound like complete shit
to their ears, and Harry couldn't lie to them to save his life.

“No,
we don't know. Why don't you elaborate?” Fred asked
sarcastically. Harry winced, curling in on himself slightly. His
stupidity had obviously made the twins furious at him- he was
surprised they weren't casting spells to tie him to their bed so that
he could never leave and do something idiotic again.

But it
wasn't stupidity. Well, it is... but it's righteous! I
refuse to be looked upon as a scared little boy who'd run to
Dumbledore at the first sign of trouble. I don't need
Dumbledore.

As
George continued to clean the remaining blood from his hand, and then
produce another rag soaked in a yellow liquid, which he dabbed on
Harry's wounds, Fred cupped his face, making Harry look at him.

“Why, Harry?” he asked. Still no kitten. George
had paused in his dabbing, and was looking at Harry expectantly.
Harry floundered for a moment.

“It's just... I'm- I'm
not a bloody kid!” Harry finally burst out. The twins looked
rightly confused by the random reaction. “I don't need help, I
don't need protection!
Umbridge was challenging me, just wanting me
to go to Dumbledore and whine about how she cut my hand up a little
bit.”

The twins gaped at him for a moment, before George
managed to get over his surprise. “So... so you willingly
underwent all this torture because you don't want
to be seen as a kid?”

Harry looked away, his whole face
burning. When George put it that way...

“That's...
That's just cutting off your nose to spite your face,” Fred
mumbled, shaking his head. Harry shot him a venomous glare.

George
sighed, catching Harry's attention before the cat-boy tried anything
on Fred, who was looking faintly amused, but also largely worried.
“Oh, kitten,” George murmured, dipping his head to kiss
Harry's lips lightly. “You're such an idiot.”

“But
you're our idiot,” Fred continued, pulling Harry close to him
and kissing his nose, then his lips, mouth capturing Harry's bottom
lip to suck lightly. George bit Harry's earlobe lightly. “Not
Umbridge's, not the Wizarding Worlds, you're all ours.”

The
words sent an indescribable feeling all through Harry, starting at
his toes and stopping at the top of his head. He was sure they'd be
so furious they'd ignore him for weeks, or yell at him, or maybe
murder him.

Well, maybe they wouldn't have gone that
far.

“All yours,” Harry murmured against Fred's
lips, smiling happily. Fred grinned back at him, and George chuckled,
trailing his tongue up Harry's neck. Harry gasped, arching his back
at the slick feeling.

“And I think it's time to go to
bed,” George suddenly said, pulling away from Harry and picking
him up. Harry blinked blearily at that- bed? Oh yes, bed.

Harry smirked, wrapping his arms around George's neck and
trailing kissed up to his jawline. He heard Fred laugh from behind
them and, together, the free went up the staircase leading to their
dormitories.

Harry paid no attention to where they were going
as George licked his cat ears and nipped them playfully. A door
creaked open and they walked into a silent, dark room. George lead
them over to a bed and dumped Harry onto it, before bending down and
kissing his lips.

Fred kissed his cheek, hugged him briefly,
and then they both straightened.

“Good night, kitten,”
they said in unison, turned, and walked out of the dormitory.

Harry's eyes widened as he stared after the two pranksters in
abstract confusion.

XxXxXxX

Hahaha,
poor Harry. The twins sure know how to make him never do anything
that idiotic again, don't they? :D

Not that I condone
punishment by sex deprivation, not at all :P

So, what made
Fred so happy at the beginning of the chapter? Guess you'll have to
read on to find out... Hahaha

A big thanks to all readers and
reviewers, when I see the number of hits, the number of reviews, it
brings a huge smile to my face like this- :D
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