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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
- 27
- 28
- 29
Oh
Merlin, oh Merlin!

“Harry,
Harry! What is it?”

Fuck!
Can't believe I just...

“Urgh,
he's gonna throw up!”

“Shut up Seamus! Harry, can
you hear me? What's wrong?”

“Ron, be quiet. Harry,
Harry, it's Dean. Calm down, just calm down. Breathe, you're turning
blue.”

Breathe...
Breathe... Yeah, should probably do that... A
deep gulp of air.

“Ron! Your dad... your dad's
been...”

XxXxXxX

“We will need,”
Dumbledore murmured to Fawkes, who turned beady black eyes to him. “A
warning.” Fawkes disappeared in a flash of fire, and Dumbledore
sat back down behind his desk, one hand idly stroking his beard. And
proceeded to say nothing more, continuing to avoid Harry's desperate
eyes.

“I...” Harry started after a whole ten
minutes of silence, not sure what to say but wanting to break the
tension in the room. Ron sat tersely next to him, white as a sheet,
and McGonagall agitatedly paced the length of the office. His tail
was twitching back and forth with every rhythmical click of some
magical instrument on one of Dumbledore's shelves.

“Dumbledore!”
a voice called, and Harry yowled loudly, all hair standing on end.
Ron quirked a weak smile, but otherwise, no one reacted. Harry cursed
himself for his stupid cat-ness.

“What news?”
Dumbledore turned to ask the portrait behind him, which had been
suddenly filled with a panting wizard. The wizard looked grim, and
Harry felt himself paling. Ron tensed even further.

Harry
really wished the twins were there, with him, arms wrapped around
him. Maybe he could nuzzle George's neck, sitting on Fred's lap.
Fuck, he wouldn't even mind if they proceeded to molest him. Anything
to distract him from... from his dream.

Arthur Weasley,
splayed out on the ground, covered in blood from long, piercing
fangs. Harry's long, piercing fangs.

“... Anyway, they
carried him up a few minutes later. It doesn't look good...”
Harry's jaw clenched around a mournful cat wail that threatened to
break free from his throat. It wouldn't do any good to look even more
like a lunatic.

“...Take it Dilys will have seen him
arrive...” a grave Dumbledore was saying. McGonagall was
listening intently but Ron, like Harry, seemed to be drifting in and
out of his own world, unable to focus on anything.

Would Fred
and George be mad at him? He'd mauled their father!

They were
going to hate him. Ron would
hate him.

A witch popped up in another portrait; again, out
of breath. Harry watched, fascinated, as her silver ringlets bounced
all over the place, catching the light. He shook his head, trying to
undistract himself.

“Yes, they've taken him to St
Mungo's, Dumbledore,” she confirmed through wheezes, and Harry
tuned out again, this time deliberately – he didn't want to
hear all about the damage he'd inevitably done to Mr Weasley; good,
kind Mr Weasley, who had always looked at him with so much
understanding whenever Harry returned from the Dursley's, thin as a
rail and refusing to eat more than a few mouthfuls.

Mr
Weasley doesn't deserve this.

“Minerva,
I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children.” Harry's
head shot up, eyes meeting Dumbledore's for a split second before the
other wizard jerked his gaze away as if scalded. Harry shook his
head. Fuck, Fred and
George!

Harry
jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder heavily, and resisted the
urge to claw at it. Instead, he followed the arm up to Ron, who was
staring at a wall, face practically terrified. But his warm hand
continued to sit on Harry's shoulder, as if Harry were the one that
needed comfort.

Harry smiled and patted Ron's hand awkwardly.
Ron's face split into a grin he couldn't resist at the masculine
insensitivity that was so familiar between them.

“...What
about Molly?”

Mrs
Weasley.
Harry winced at the mere thought of the kind woman who insisted on
shoving food down his throat and cutting his unruly hair. She was so
motherly,
and he was slowly destroying her family.

“... May
already know – that excellent clock of hers,” Dumbledore
said, with a fond chuckle, as if the thought of Arthur Weasley's
clock hand pointing towards 'Mortal
Peril'
wasn't the most morbid image Harry could ever conjure.

Ron
started breathing heavily through his nose, each exhalation making
Harry ear's twitch from side to side.

Dumbledore was rummaging
around in a cupboard behind Harry and Ron as Ron hyperventilated and
Harry subtly panicked, unable to destroy the image of the Weasley
family clock. It haunted him, laughing mockingly.

He imagined
Fred and George's hands pointed to 'Mortal
Peril'
and shuddered fitfully, bile at the back of his throat. That was one
thought he couldn't handle.

Harry jumped as an old black
kettle was set on Dumbledore's desk with a heavy thump. His worn
nerves were making him startle at the slightest noise.

“Portus,”
Dumbledore said, tapping the kettle with his wand. Harry knew the
Portkey was for them – the Weasleys and him – but he
wondered where it was going to take them. To the Burrow? St Mungo's?

Cries of outrage made Harry focus his attention back on
Dumbledore, only to see the man standing in front of the portraits, a
few of who were yelling, while one was rolling his eyes, bored.

“Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry
Potter coming to stay,” the man in the portrait reeled off,
voice reedy, and then disappeared. Where to, Harry had no
idea.

Before he knew it, the door was opening again. He gulped
audibly, realising exactly who it was entering, and didn't dare turn
around. Ron sighed, turning himself and forcing a smile on his face
that turned into more of a grimace.

“What is it?
Professor McGonagall said dad got hurt, that you saw it. Harry, what
happened?” Ginny asked hurriedly, previous animosity for Harry
and her brothers disappearing in the wake of such a tragedy, it
seemed. Harry sunk further into his seat.

“Leave off,
Ginny,” Ron said, and Harry wished he hadn't. They didn't need
Ginny suddenly remembering that she hated them all. Ginny just huffed
and didn't say anything else, though.

Dumbledore turned to the
three new arrivals and explained what happened as Harry made no move
to open his mouth, taught as a bow string.

“I'm sending
you to Sirius' house – far more convenient for the hospital
than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there.” Harry wasn't
looking forward to returning to Grimmauld Place. Stuck in a house
with the Weasleys when he'd practically murdered Mr Weasley.

“How're we getting there?” Fred spoke up, and
Harry winced at how shaken his voice was. “Floo powder?”

Harry
stared at the kettle on the desk, suddenly realising it's
purpose.

“Not safe, the network is under tight
surveillance. You'll be using this Portkey,” Dumbledore said,
gesturing to the kettle. Harry wondered why Portkeys always seemed to
be available only when something awful was happening. Like the night
in the graveyard...

Suddenly, there was a burst of fire that
made Harry startle and snarl. A single red feather dropped from the
air and floated downwards, landing on Dumbledore's desk. Dumbledore's
expression turned even more grave.

“Fawke's warning.
It's Umbridge. Minerva, head her off, tell her anything -”
McGonagall was already out of the door, hurrying towards wherever
Umbridge was. Harry jumped up from his chair at the same time Ron
did, both wanting to get out of there before Umbridge arrived to
apprehend them.

“He says he'll be delighted,” a
drawling voice said, and Dumbledore turned to the portraits –
Phineas had reappeared. He made another snarky comment, but was
interrupted by Dumbledore blatantly ignoring him in favour of
gathering the students around his desk.

Harry dazedly walked
forward, realising that that was that. They would soon be at
Grimmauld Place, with Mr Weasley fighting for his life, and the
Weasleys never talking to him again, not that he could blame them.

He put his finger on the kettle when ordered, staring off
into space. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around him, and a body was
pressed to him from behind. He gasped and looked up, already knowing
exactly who it was and not trying to pull away.

George looked
down at him, gaze serious. Then, lips pressed to his clammy forehead.
Harry turned to see Fred at his side. Fred kissed his forehead again
and then pulled away, smiling at him waveringly. Harry smiled back,
and then looked up at George again, hopefully.

George's arm
around him tightened.

“One...” Dumbledore was
saying. Harry continued to gaze into George's eyes, one of Fred's
hands grabbing his own and clenching around it, grip tight and
nervous. George smiled down at him, shaking his head almost fondly.
“Two...”

Harry suddenly jerked his head towards
Dumbledore, wondering if the man would look at him, even just once.

Harry's scar burned suddenly, and his eyes widened. “Three.”
Dumbledore said, and his eyes lifted to meet Harry's gaze head on.
There was a tug at his navel as the Portkey activated, but that was
ignored in the wake of a rushing, roaring pain
in his
head.

Dumbledore's eyes widened as Harry stared into them,
and Harry felt a strange tingling in his mind, like something was
invading it. Bite. Kill,
a voice hissed. He was the snake. He was the snake, ready to
strike.

And then he was gone.

XxXxXxX

Harry
crashed down to the ground, groaning and clutching his head. He felt
someone holding him up and prying his hands away from his scar.

“What's wrong?” Fred whispered, and Harry looked
up into George's face, and then Fred's. Fred was hovering at his side
while George stood in front of him, holding him and looking into his
face worriedly.

Harry gaped, stunned, as he remembered what
had just occurred. He'd... he'd wanted to...

Harry tugged away
from George suddenly, practically running to Ron, his back to the
twins. He couldn't be around them. He knew they needed comfort. He'd
fucking attacked their dad, of course he should be giving them
comfort!

But what if he tried to attack them, too? He'd
already wanted to bite
Dumbledore.

Thought
I'd got a hold of my cat instincts,
he thought dazedly as Sirius hurried in, looking worried and pale.
But Harry knew it had nothing to do with him being part cat, and
everything to do with the snake in his head.

So
I'm a snake-cat-human hybrid now.

Harry
took a seat when everyone else did. They were situated in the living
room of Grimmauld Place, and Sirius wasn't there. Where did he go?

His question was answered as Sirius bustled back in, a tray
of tea and coffee floating behind him. He directed the tray to the
table with his wand, and began pouring hot drinks for the exhausted
students.

“I think you should really go to bed. They're
ready for you, you know,” Sirius said, taking in the tired
slumping and weary eyes. They all shook their heads in unison.

“Not
going anywhere-”

“Until we find out if dad's all
right,” Fred finished, and the two looked determined and stern.
Harry felt his lips twitch in a smile at Sirius's rather overwhelmed,
forced smile. The man nodded, obviously not agreeing with the twins,
but there was no defying them when they had that expression.

“Me
too,” Ron mumbled, having sunk into a cushy armchair
gratefully. Ginny nodded in agreement, and Sirius sighed, looking
quite annoyed. He turned to Harry. Harry shrugged.

“I'm
with th-” he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence as
Sirius grabbed his shoulder and manhandled him out of the
room.

“What the – Sirius!” Harry snarled as
Sirius slammed the living room door shut and then dragged Harry into
the kitchen. Sirius then immediately grabbed his right hand and
brought it up to eye level. Harry paled.

“Fucking
bitch,” Sirius mumbled, grip tightening on Harry's hand. Harry
winced – how much did Sirius know?

“Who?” he
asked innocently – it would do no good to blurt out everything
and then have it turn out Sirius was talking about something
completely unrelated. Sirius sighed and dropped his hand, which had
been rapidly loosing all circulation due to the animagus' tight
grip.

“Don't play dumb with me. Umbridge! Who else?”
Sirius snapped, stalking over to one of the chairs surrounding the
table and collapsing onto it. Harry's eyes narrowed.

“Fred
and George,” he mumbled, suddenly realising exactly how Sirius
had discovered his not-very-well-kept secret. He was going to kill
those twins! Right after they started talking to him again...
Although by tonight's actions, maybe they were.

“Can't
believe what she did!” Sirius was ranting obliviously. “When
your friends told me... I was ready to kill her, you know? But those
crafty twins of yours had a much better plan, really...”

Harry
gaped at the back of Sirius' head for a moment, a feeling of dread
filling him as he realised that the twins had done
something.
Of course! It all made sense! Umbridge's avoidance of him, the lack
of detentions and her unexplained surrender in the Quidditch
matter...

“Yeah... that plan of theirs. Really, really
good,” Harry said, wondering if he could tactfully egg Sirius
on to spill the beans. He would have to pull out all of his cunning
side!

“Good? Bloody brilliant!” Sirius said
excitedly, sounding exactly like Ron for a moment. “They're
worse than us Marauders, those two. What they did with the
quill...”

Harry made a 'hmm'ing sort of sound, eyes
narrowed suspiciously. He hoped Sirius didn't turn around and see his
tightened expression. What had they done with the quill?

“And
what they got her to write on the back of her hand... pure genius.
Bet she'll never mess with them again,” Sirius continued,
finally turning around to Harry, oblivious to his incredulous
expression as the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fit
together. “And you. She'll never mess with you again, either.
They're... Harry, I didn't honestly know what to expect when you
began this...” Sirius waved a hand, trying to express
himself.

“Relationship?” Harry asked a bit
stiffly, more out of sheer anger at the twins then annoyance at
Sirius not believing their relationship to be real. Sirius grinned
sheepishly.

“That's the word. I thought they'd break
your heart – not exactly serious, those twins. But what they've
done for you... they protect you so much, something I've never been
able to achieve.” Sirius' expression turned brooding, voice
layered with guilt. Harry grimaced, wanting to say something before
moody Sirius came back and replaced the sudden excitement the man had
been hit with.

“You have protected me, Sirius. Pettigrew
might've killed me if you hadn't broken out of Azkaban
just for me,”
Harry said sincerely. Sirius flashed him a small smile, guilt seeming
to ebb slightly.

“But I can't be there for you, Harry.
I'm stuck in this horror of a home, forced to secretly visit you at
Hogsmeade once in a while and write you letters.”

“Which
you so subtly deliver with bright pink flamingo's,” Harry
couldn't help but add dryly. Sirius, far from looking abashed, looked
proud.

“Dumbledore sent me on a mission to some exotic
place, I couldn't resist,” he explained. Harry rolled his eyes
– Sirius had never heard of restraint.

“But...
honestly, Harry? I'm glad Fred and George are there to look out for
you every day,” he said, more serious. Harry looked down at the
floor, feeling awkward and hoping Sirius didn't say anything else.

Sirius seemed to feel the same way, and cleared his throat,
embarrassed. “Right, well, let's get back, shall we?”
Sirius said, standing up abruptly.

“Wait-” Harry
started, mind flashing to Dumbledore's office, where he'd nearly
killed the man who had been like a grandfather to him. Sirius looked
back at him expectantly.

But
I can't be there for you,
Sirius's words echoed through his head. Had he been putting a burden
on Sirius, expecting him to be the perfect godfather and rescue him
from the Dursleys? Had he been the one to put those dark circles
under his eyes, the guilty, haunted look in his eyes because Harry
expected too damn much of one man?

“Thanks, Sirius,”
Harry said, instead of what he wanted to say. Instead of explaining
his problems, his fear that he might suddenly feel the need to hurt
his friends like he had Dumbledore. Like he had Mr Weasley.

Sirius
grinned. “No problem, kiddo.”

XxXxXxXx

Originally,
I was going to have Harry shake off the burden of idiot!Harry and
actually talk to Sirius about his snake problem. Of course, that
would lessen Harry angst, and I could never do that to you...

;;Runs
away from pitchfork-adorned audience;; It's all part of the
plaaan!

Also, the twins did maybe overreact a bit in the last
chapter, but it was sort of a knee-jerk reaction with them not having
time to really think about it. In this chapter, they can't stay mad
at Harry for long. Eventually, they'll talk about the incident
:P

ZipMeOff- Harry tried to be independent, but the twins
don't really let him be, poor kitten. I'll take your advice and try
and show some more independence in him, because you're right, cats do
like to do things on their own!

HermioneSnape- There won't be
much of this pairing (Snape/Charlie), it's mainly put in there for a
bit of a comical effect with Snape. Not sure about adding more
Hermione – I prefer to concentrate more on Harry and the twins
than others, but I'll see about mentioning Hermione more often. She
does get a bit left out.

Hope you enjoyed and, if you have
time, please review! I love to hear your opinions on the story (but
if you have any questions, I suggest messaging me on livejournal, as
I'm more likely to answer them there faster).
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