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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
- 30
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It
was the night before Christmas, and all 'round the house, nobody
stirred, not even the cat.

Until two mischievous redheaded
twins crept into his shared bedroom, shook his awake, and dragged him
out, grinning like maniacs.

“Gerroff,” Harry
mumbled blearily from his perch atop Fred's shoulder. “Whaz
'appenin'? Voldem'rt 'ttacking?”

George chuckled and
flicked Harry's nose with his finger. Harry wrinkled his nose and
glared at the twin, hating the two more than anything he'd hated,
ever. Who went around waking people up at this time?!

“No,
Voldemort isn't attacking,” Fred assured cheerfully, opening
the door to the twins bedroom and walking inside, shutting it again.
Harry grimaced as his world was turned right-side-up, his feet
touching the floor.

“Right,” Harry said, deciding
not to question what was happening any longer. Who knew what crazy
plans the twins had thought up? He instead looked around the
dimly-lit room, eyebrows rising when he realised everything wasn't
right.

For a start, there was no bed, which might not have
been so unusual considering the twins blew up their beds on regular
occasions and were punished by having to sleep on the floor for a
night. What was strange
was the floating candles arranged into a large circle in the middle
of the room, casting light and shadows, and the lack of other
furnishing, including the wardrobe, desk and drawers. The room was
totally bare.

“What the bloody hell?” Harry asked
quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear outside of the room. If Mrs
Weasley came storming in, only to see this weirdness, who knows what
the twins would be punished with.

“No need to keep
silent here, Harry. Silencing wards and all,” Fred said,
gesturing around the room. Harry couldn't actually see
the
wards, so he took Fred's word for it.

“Mind explaining
what's going on?” Harry asked. It was, most likely, another
prank that they were conducting in the middle of the night, on
Christmas eve. “And why I've been dragged into this?”

Harry
had been steadfastly avoiding the twins since he'd spilled the truth
to them, mostly because he felt betrayed at their quite cruel tricks,
and partly because he'd sounded like a right girl when he'd emptied
his fears onto them. He was such a wimp.

George cleared his
throat loudly and, from mid-air, produced a golden, glowing scroll of
parchment, which he opened and held to his face. Harry rolled his
eyes as George re-cleared his throat.

“Dear sir,”
George started, before casting a dubious look at Harry. “Or
madam.” Harry hissed at insinuation. “You are hereby
formally invited to Fred and George Weasley's bonding party, on the
night of Christmas Eve, at a quarter to twelve. Please RSVP as soon
as possible, sincerely, Fred and George.”

Their bonding.
They were holding their bonding on Christmas eve? Bit sappy, if you
asked Harry. He never took the twins for being sappy.

“If
it's your bonding,
why am I here?” Harry snapped, wanting to just go back to bed
and not
watch Fred and George becoming connected for life. He heard Fred sigh
behind him, and then a hand was in his hair, ruffling it
up.

“Because you're a very important part of our lives,
kitten-”

“- And this bonding won't change that at
all,” George finished, the two sounding quite serious and
affectionate at the same time. Harry wanted to tear up and smile and
bloody well jump for joy at the most reassuring words he'd heard in a
while, never mind that he was furious
at them for the truth serum.

Instead, he plastered a neutral
look on his face, as if the words didn't affect him. Wouldn't do to
boost the twins egos or anything, make them think they'd done
something right. The twins shared a knowing smirk, and Harry scowled
at them. Damn, they'd seen right through him!

“We need
an anchor for the ritual,” George started hesitantly after a
few moments of silence in which the twins smiled happily and Harry
glared sullenly. Harry frowned at that. “It's not... necessary,
but it'll keep things a lot safer.”

“And, well, we
thought, who better to participate in this, to be our anchor... than
the person who is our anchor?” Fred continued when George
stopped, too nervous, because who knew how the unpredictable cat-boy
would act?

Harry gaped openly at such an... awkward,
affectionate declaration. The twins were in such a strange mood!
But... to be included in
the ritual... A smile tugged at Harry's lips.

“Fine, if
you insist,” he muttered. Fred grinned and wrapped an arm
around his shoulders, and George laughed gratefully at their request
not being completely rejected. “I'm not fucking happy at your
two, though!” he reminded.

“Yeah, we're sorry,”
Fred said, pressing a kiss to his hair. “It really wasn't right
of us... but you're so frustrating sometimes, bloody cats and their
mood swings.” Harry punched him in the chest, crossed his arms,
and stayed sullenly silent for a moment at what had to be the most
insincere apology he'd ever heard.

And yet, somehow, he knew
that Fred, and George, were completely sincere underneath the
insincerity.

“How... how will it work?” Harry
questioned. They really should have told him sooner, so he could
prepare himself
or something. The twins had had months to know exactly what they were
going to do!

“You don't have to do anything. Just hold
onto us, keep us focused and all that. We'll do the creepy chanting,”
George told him, leading him over to the circle of floating candles.
The three ducked underneath, and Fred pushed Harry gently to sit on a
cushion on the ground.

The twins took places on separate
cushions, facing each other, west and east, while Harry was south. It
reminded him of those muggle wiccan rituals that Aunt Petunia had
always sniffed her nose at. He felt quite uncomfortable.

“Relax,”
Fred murmured, eyes falling closed as he sought out Harry's hand.
George took the other, lacing their fingers together, giving it a
squeeze. Harry allowed a small smile to creep onto his face at the
thought that he was included.

When his gaze lifted, his eyes met with George's. George
smiled at him happily, and Harry was struck with the thought that the
twins really did love him. They had to, right? They gave him a part
in their bonding.

They had called him their anchor.

“Before we
begin, I think we need to clear something up,” Fred said,
opening his eyes. George sighed, but nodded, and Harry's eyes darted
between them, confused.

“What?” he asked, voice
suddenly sounding strangled. He cleared his throat. “What?”
he asked again, in a deep, manly voice. The twins grinned at
that.

“Cho Chang,” George announced out of the
blue. Harry felt his face pale drastically. Oh bloody hell.

“Why
did you kiss her?” Fred asked, voice strained. His grip on
Harry's hand tightened slightly. Harry felt his palm becoming clammy.

“I... I didn't.” Technically. “Wait –
how do you-”

“Saw you,” George said shortly,
frowning at Harry's answer. “And you did. In the Room of
Requirements, snogging under some fucking mistletoe.”

Wow,
George was getting slightly pissed off. Harry hadn't seen him
pissed... ever. That was Fred's forte.

“Oh,” Harry
said – how did he right this, then? And why hadn't the twins
said something before? Maybe they were waiting for Harry to tell
them. Maybe Harry should have actually told them. “That, that
was... look, she just threw herself at me!”

“You
did some class A struggling,” Fred remarked, a quirky grin
forced onto his face. It was like Fred and George had suddenly
swapped personalities. Bloody weird.

“I was shocked!”
Harry defended. “It's not every day some bird bursts into tears
and then kisses you! I snapped out of it and pushed her away, and
all. How come you didn't see that part?” Why did fate hate him?
Of course the twins would only see the part where Harry stood there
and let Cho kiss him.

“She actually cried?” Fred
asked, quite surprised. He hadn't seen much of Cho's face in the
confrontation, more preoccupied with Harry's being attached to it. “I
don't remember you being that bad of a kisser.”

“Shut
up,” Harry snapped. Typical of the twins to make a joke of
it!

“Guess someone
should
have stuck around a bit longer,” George muttered, sending a
pointed look to Fred. Fred pouted.

“Well, I felt right
betrayed! Can't expect me to just stand there and watch our
kitten
being ravished and not fighting back,” Fred excused himself.

“I told you, I fought back! Eventually.”

“I
wanted
to wait, but you just had to be so hot-headed,” George
continued teasingly, ignoring Harry completely.

“You
were just as eager as I was to leave,” Fred announced loftily.
Harry sighed. Obviously the two were completely over the whole
incident if they were willing to ignore Harry in favour of teasing
each other and getting Harry riled up.

In a burst of
inspiration, Harry unsheathed his claws and dug them into the twins'
palms lightly. Fred and George both hissed in pain, tightening their
hold on Harry's hands and directing his claws away from their
vulnerable flesh. Harry sighed – that hadn't been the reaction
he'd expected.

“Sorry, kitten,” George cooed,
leaning forward to rub Harry's cat ears and turning Harry in a puddle
of melted cat boy. His claws retracted against his will.

“Don't
you want to start this ritual thing?” Harry asked grumpily.
Fred looked down at his watch, raising his eyebrows.

“Good
point, it's about five to twelve now.”

“How long
does it last?” Harry asked as the twins laced their fingers
firmly with Harry's. He could feel the atmosphere growing heavier as
they became more serious, faces stoic.

“Five to ten
minutes, I think...” George said, trailing off. Harry felt his
face drop. 'I think' wasn't going to inspire his confidence.

It
seemed George didn't find anything wrong with his answer, however, as
he continued talking. “We need to know, before this starts...
do you trust us?” the question was hurried – apparently
they were running out of time.

“What?” Harry
asked, confused. Did he... did he trust them? That was a question
that would take ages
to think over.

“Do you trust us? This is based so much
on trust. We need to know now... and not just for the ritual,”
Fred continued.

“Can you honestly trust us to do what's
right for you, even if it seems completely unethical and even if you
hate it?

“And if we make a mistake-”

“Can
you trust us enough to forgive us?” George finished for Fred.
Harry frowned – it was such a complex answer. And yet, they'd
gone through such a load of shit together, and come out with minimal
injuries over the past half a year. If the twins made mistakes, Harry
did forgive them, because they admitted to it, because he loved them
too much not too. And they always forgave him, even if he didn't want
to admit he'd been mistaken.

“Yeah, I suppose... I do.
I do really trust you.” Harry was surprised himself by how
easily the answer came to him – he'd spent the better part of
sixth months agonising over whether he really could trust and love
the twins, whether they did have a healthy relationship, because it
sometimes seemed they really didn't. But no relationship is ever
fully functional, he figured. Look at Hermione and Ron, Mr and Mrs
Weasley.

Theirs was no different, whether there was two,
three, four or a hundred people involved in it.

The twins held
a strange sort of power over him, it was true. But he'd come to learn
he held a similar power over them. They just weren't as fucked up as
he was, and could deal with it easier.

Fred and George leaned
over and kissed him on his cheeks, before returning to their original
position, looking towards the middle of the circle, expressions
completely stoic.

Together, the two stared blankly at the
random spot. Harry frowned and stared at it too, wondering what was
so special about that particular piece of carpet.

The air
suddenly thickened so much Harry could barely breathe, and the hair
on the back of his neck stood up. He could feel his tail puff up in
anticipation, and ringing started in his ears.

The floor the
twins were staring at began to glow a golden colour. The twins' spare
hands snapped to it, wands pointing at the glow.

The glow
grew, and grew, and as Harry squinted at it warily, it began to take
a shape, twisting and turning until, finally, it formed a rune. Harry
had no idea what the rune meant, but it seemed the twins had found
what they were looking for, as they both began to speak.

Harry's
eyes darted between the two as they chanted in unison, in latin,
words that Harry couldn't really hope to understand. They were very
serious as they did this, jaws tight, eyes staring at the rune as if
entranced.

Harry looked back at the rune as well, wondering
what had caught the twins' attention so, but found nothing out of the
ordinary. And yet their eyes wouldn't stop boring into it, as if
trying to burn it alive.

“Sic
lies meus diligo!”
the sudden exclamation from both had Harry jumping in fright, not
having expected it after their droning, quiet words. The rune flared
from gold to an angry red, and Harry almost shuffled back in slight
fear as it bloody pulsed.
Instead, his hands clenched around the twins painfully.

The
twins squeezed back.

A howling sound picked up in Harry's
ears and, slowly, the annoying ringing was drowned out. It was like
he was sitting in the middle of a hurricane, the wailing in his ears
loud and incessant. A slight breeze picked up, ruffling his hair,
making the lights from the candles waver.

Harry clenched his
jaw, trying not to make a noise. His whole body was tensed with
apprehension, certain something was about to go wrong. There was just
such an ominous presence in the room, emitting from that creepy rune.

“Don't worry,” George whispered to him. Harry
looked to him, his face lit up by the red glow of the rune, and then
to Fred, who smiled reassuringly. Even though neither was looking at
him, he knew their actions were... for him.

Harry's face
split into a broad grin at the sudden surge of love that fucking
exploded inside of him, a flame in his stomach, a roar in his chest.
His whole body tingled with the feeling, adrenaline shooting through
him.

The breeze turned worse and worse, until it was
practically a gale, ripping their hair and clothes, dousing the
flames completely, the only light coming from the rune engraved in
the floor. Harry suddenly realised why there were no furnishings in
the room.

“This is it,” Fred whispered, voice
slightly higher than usual, eyes wide and glazed, an awed expression
on his face. George nodded, speechless. Harry shifted, tail flicking
restlessly as power soared around the room with the wind.

“I
solemnly swear that I am up to no good,”
George said loudly, trying to be heard over the wind. Harry frowned –
that had been in Latin, but he'd... he'd been able to understand it?

“I solemnly swear
that I'm up to no good,”
Fred repeated, still in Latin, laughing after he said it. Harry shook
his head at the strangeness of the whole ritual – the password
for the Marauder's map, the creepy rune, the twins excitement. The
excitement filling him. He felt like he was a five year old stealing
a biscuit or something equally as naughty.

The rune
exploded.

The three were thrown backwards, the force tearing
their hands away from each other. Harry didn't even have time to yell
before his back and head hit a wall, and he blacked
out.

XxXxXxX

“Harry? Harry!” Harry groaned
as he was pulled from black unconsciousness, eyes flickering weakly.
Merlin, he felt like he'd been Rugby-tackled by Hagrid.

“Wha'?”
he mumbled sleepily, and a hand settled on his forehead. He shifted
into the coolness on his burning skin, and slowly opened his eyes,
staring right up at a blurry face looming over him. He
frowned.

“He's awake,” George murmured, and Harry
was handed his glasses. He took them and placed them on, grimacing
when he realised one of the frames was cracked clean in half. George
grinned, pulled out his wand, and tapped the glass with the tip of
it.

The result was an ensuing explosion of glass and brilliant
light. Harry yelped as the frames completely shattered, the glass
somehow not hitting him, as if repelled by a barrier.

“...What
the fuck?” Fred murmured, crawling closer from his position
seated, leaning against a wall. Harry, pale, shook his head in
complete confusion, while George stared down at his wand.

“...
Never heard of this happening,” he whispered, quite confused.
“You all right?” Harry nodded shakily, taking off his
destroyed glasses and turning them over in his hands. Glass was
caught in his t-shirt and pooled in his lap. Not wanting to risk
another explosion if he used magic, George brushed it off by hand,
gently.

“Did we do something wrong?” Fred asked.
“First being thrown around like rag dolls, then Harry's glasses
committing the kamikaze...”

“I've no ide-”
George cut off in the middle of his reply, staring at Harry, who had
raised an arm to brush glass out of his hair before it cut up his cat
ears. Harry frowned, wondering why George was staring, looking
completely astounded.

“What?” he asked grumpily.
The headache from hitting his head and his glasses being destroyed
had put him right back into his previous foul mood.

George
didn't say anything, instead darting forward and grabbing Harry's
arm. Harry let out a squeak, about to move back. However, when
George's hand made contact with his arm, a frisson of electricity
shot up his arm, making him feel quite dizzy, weak and,
embarrassingly, aroused.

George then grabbed Fred's hand, both
jumping when they felt what Harry and George had just felt. Fred and
George looked at each other, and then at Harry, eyes extraordinarily
wide.

“Fucking tell me! What is it?!” Harry
snarled, feeling very out of the loop by that point. The horrified,
yet quite gleeful expressions on the twins' faces weren't helping. It
was all a recipe for disaster.

He looked down at his arm,
wondering what had attracted George's attention. His eyes widened
when he saw exactly what it was. His arm was decorated in... black
markings.

“... We didn't,” Fred said to George,
ignoring Harry completely.

“I think we did,”
George replied, shaking his head with disbelief.

“Did
what?!” Harry yelled, only to snarl as arms wrapped around him
and lifted him up from the ground. The ensuing vertigo made him
nearly claw Fred's arms apart. Fred ignored the claws sinking into
his flesh and danced around the room, spinning Harry and himself in
circles, while George laughed quietly.

“Fuck,
Dumbledore's going to kill us,” George suddenly realised,
sitting up straight. Fred stopped short, Harry still in his arms.

“Forget Dumbledore. What about mum?”

XxXxXxX

...
;;Looks
innocent;; whatever could have happened, do you think?

Hmm,
halfway through writing this, I think I pressed something by
accident, because now my speech marks are the '@' sign, and vice
versa. Hope it goes away when I reboot my computer! ;;nervous
laugh;;. Isn't being technologically challenged fun?

I hate
this chapter! It's awful, isn't it? I've completely rushed all
emotions. ;;Bangs head on desk;;

Anyway, tell me what you
think!

(PS, I've got a beta! Finally ;) we're starting from
chap 1 up, because it takes me forever to churn these out; think what
it'll be like beta'ing them too? ;;Shudder;;. Thank you to the
amazing Bianca!)
- 30
- 31
- 32
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