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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
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In April, Dumbledore
left Hogwarts.

Umbridge had been in complete control of the school. Trelawney had been fired,
and Hagrid was on the brink of getting the sack himself, Umbridge peering over
his shoulder like a hawk. She had gained a new status that allowed her to run
nearly everything. The Quibbler had even been banned after Harry gave an
interview to clear up his name, and the school had become enraptured with it.

Harry had been getting Occlumency lessons from Snape in the aftermath of his
vivid vision, not that they helped any. He returned to the common room after
every session exhausted, sweaty and shaking. Not surprisingly, Snape had been
subjected to more pranks than usual, courtesy of the twins, as Harry stopped
them from doing anything else.

He was still bitter about the collar. Snape found it quite amusing, especially
when he found out, from Harry's mind, exactly what had happened. He was able to
cover it by sticking the collar of his shirt up, but Hermione had pointed out
that he looked even more ridiculous, and forced his shirt back down. So he was
stuck with a simple black collar, with a gold tag that, embarrassingly, read
'If found, please return to Gred', and a bell Harry was constantly playing
with.

And, of course, the twins, it seemed, had super glued it to his neck.

The OWLs and NEWTs loomed nearer, and Harry was only just coming to terms with
the fact that, after this year, he would be near-separated from the twins, as
they left with the rest of the seventh years. Of course, he hadn't mentioned
this to Fred and George. They were content in their oblivion of the matter.

The DA was still going strong, but even more secretive than ever. Umbridge had
banned clubs that hadn't been authorised by herself, and they believed it was
because she'd caught wind of their secret rebellion.

Finally, Harry had allowed them to work on Patronuses, reminding everyone that
producing a Patronus in a brightly lit classroom, and producing one to tackle
an actual dementor, were far different. No-one had listened to him, which the
twins had found very amusing.

�Oh don't be such a killjoy!� Cho said brightly as her swan Patronus glided
past Harry. �They're so pretty.�

Fred stuck his foot in the middle of Cho's Patronus, and her concentration
broke. Fred then went back to conjuring his own Patronus, while George glared
at Cho moodily. Harry blushed in mortification and apologised on their behalf.

Cho merely laughed and shook it off, as if realising why Fred did that. As if
knowing that Harry wasn't just with George, but Fred too.

Exactly how many people had discovered their secret?!

The bond hadn't seemed to affect Harry's life, although he'd found that it
seemed to heighten all his senses whenever the twins were around. And,
considering he was already a half cat with impeccable senses (except for
sight), that was truly a nuisance to behold.

As the others chattered around him, exclaiming on the 'prettyness' of the
Patronuses while Harry attempted to remind them that they were supposed to
protect them, not look nice, and George got bored and tried to molest him, the
door swung open, and then closed again.

Harry jumped and looked to the door, seeing no-one enter. The hair on the back
of his neck stood on end as, suddenly, a very ominous feeling dawned upon him.
George seemed to sense something was wrong, and tightened his hold on Harry.
Fred came to stand next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

The people close to the door had fallen silent, and suddenly, something was
tugging on Harry's trouser leg. He jumped nearly a mile high, tail poofing out,
and looked down. Fred snorted with laughter very quietly, and Harry elbowed him
in the gut.

Dobby peered up at him, eyes wobbling, mouth quivering. Harry gulped � visits
from Dobby were never, ever good. He was Harry�s personal grim.

�Dobby!� he exclaimed in greeting, hoping his voice wasn't as high as it
sounded to him. �What are you � what's wrong?�

The elf was terrified and on the brink of tears. His hand, clutching Harry's
robe, was shaking, as was the rest of his body. Dobby opened his mouth and
closed it again, and then re-opened it. The Patronuses previously prancing
around the room faded slowly as everyone's attention was caught by the elf.

The feeling of something being horribly wrong intensified in Harry.

After many an attempt to harm himself, and Harry stopping him every time,
eventually crouching down the elf's level and restraining him completely, Dobby
spilled the secret he had been ordered not to tell.

�She... she...� Dobby trailed off, but Harry had a very good idea, suddenly, of
who this 'she' was.

�Umbridge?� he nearly whispered, full of dread. He was fairly certain any blood
left in his face drained away dramatically.

�She hasn't found out about this � about us � about the DA?� he guessed, hoping
beyond hope that Dobby shook his head, that it turned out he'd got completely
the wrong end of the stick. That Umbridge wasn't heading up the Room of Requirements,
probably armed with her group of Slytherins that had been terrorising the
school.

But the elf's stricken face told him everything.

�Is she coming?� Harry asked quietly.

When Dobby let out a howl and began beating his bare feet hard on the floor,
Harry sagged limply.

�Yes, Harry Potter, yes!�

Slowly, Harry got to his feet, aware that he was shaking. He looked around at
the still, terrified members of the DA gathered in their incriminating meeting
room incredulously.

�WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?� he bellowed. �RUN!�

His words snapped them out of their daze. At once, everyone dashed for the exit,
getting stuck in the door before bursting through, scattering out in the
castle, hoping to escape before anyone could catch them. The stakes were too
high to be caught.

Harry hoped they didn't try to make it to the dormitory. It hadn�t passed
curfew, if they just pretended to be going to the Owlery, or took refuge in the
library or a toilet...

�What the hell are you doing?!� Fred snapped, grabbing his wrist and tugging
him into the heart of the escaping crowd. Harry allowed Fred to drag him,
suddenly feeling heavy. This was his fault. If people got caught, got expelled,
it would be all his fault.

�Come on, Harry,� George said, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers as
they escaped through the door and out in the open. Ron had grabbed Dobby, who
was attempting to do himself terrible injury, and they stopped just outside the
door. Fred grabbed Dobby, and Harry and George ran one way while Hermione and
Ron ran the other.

�Dobby, this is an order!� Fred was saying, commanding him to go back down the kitchen,
lie about telling them anything, and not harm himself. Then there were
footsteps, and Harry realised he was running after them. They didn't have time
to stop and let him catch up.

�Boys bathroom ahead,� Harry gasped out, a stitch already forming in his side,
whether from sheer panic or the fast pace they were going at, Harry didn't
know. George nodded and veered off towards the corridor where the bathroom was.

�AAARGH!� Harry cried out as something caught him around the ankles. He fell
down spectacularly, skidding along the floor six feet before stopping. George
was above him, glaring at something behind him, and Harry realised there was
laughing.

He turned around to see Malfoy, concealed in a niche beneath an ugly
dragon-shaped vase.

�Trip Jinx, Potter!� he said, but didn't have the chance to continue. In one
powerful stride, George had stepped over Harry and punched Malfoy in the gut.
Malfoy groaned and doubled over as Harry bolted to his feet, running over to
them.

�George, no!� he snapped, seeing, out of the corner of his eye, Fred round the
corner, ear caught by Umbridge.

This was bad. So bad. George would be expelled if Umbridge discovered that he'd
attacked Malfoy!

So Harry did what any stupid person would do in his situation. He punched
Malfoy square in the nose.

XxXxXxX

It was silent in Dumbledore's office.

Harry stood tensely in front of Dumbledore's desk, Umbridge right behind him,
practically breathing down his neck. Malfoy sat in a chair, pinching the top of
his nose while McGonagall performed a spell to stop it bleeding. He had stopped
whining a few moments ago after an irritated sigh from Fudge. Harry was
surprised he hadn't mentioned George in his loud complaining � probably wanted
to get Harry in deeper trouble more than he wanted revenge on the twins.

Fred and George stood on either side of the room - �who knows what mischief they
might concoct standing together?� -, sending furious stares at Harry.
Dumbledore didn't look too impressed, either.

�Describe the situation to me again,� Fudge demanded, with a viciously
satisfied look in Harry's direction. Harry sent a dirty glare back at him, but
caught Dumbledore's stern frown and looked down at the ground again.

�He was heading back to Gryffindor tower with those Weasley boys, all in a
rush,� Umbridge said, and he could practically hear the glee in her voice.
George stiffened. �The Malfoy boy cornered him. Potter attacked him, twice, despite Mr Malfoy not even laying
a hand on him.� Harry opened his mouth to yell about the complete indecency of
that claim, but Fred cleared his throat sharply, and Harry nearly jumped out of
his skin as his arm suddenly warmed up.

His gaze snapped over to Fred, who shook his head. Harry frowned, wondering
what on earth was wrong with his arm. Then he saw it � Fred was clutching his
own arm, the exact same one that had heated up on Harry.

The bond.

�Did he?� Fudge was asking, nearly laughing with delight. Harry growled under
his breath. �Did he? That's assault, you know, boy?� Fudge directed the
question to Harry. Harry said nothing as his arm grew even warmer in warning.
It felt pleasant, but Harry knew the meaning behind it. �I assume you know why
you're here?�

Harry fully intended to respond with a defiant 'yes', growing more and more
irritated. He honestly wanted to scratch Fudge's eyes out. The word was half
formed, when he again looked at Dumbledore. Dumbledore wasn't looking at him,
instead gazing steadily at the floor, a frown still on his face. He shook his
head a fraction of an inch.

�Ye-no.� Fred and George seemed to sag with relief.

�I beg your pardon?� Fudge asked, probably having been of the belief that Harry
would say yes and Fudge would have him trapped.

�No, sir,� Harry repeated, not looking at Fudge directly.

�You don't know why you are here?�

�Apart from... assaulting Malfoy, unless that's what you mean?� Harry asked
innocently. He knew perfectly well what this was really about, attacking Malfoy
was just a bonus for Umbridge.

�So you have no idea,� Fudge said, in a voice practically dripping with sarcasm
and incredibility, �why you've been brought to this office? You have no idea
that you've broken any Ministry Decrees?�

�Not that I'm aware of.� Harry could see Fred raise a hand to hide his huge
grin, and George's passive face twitched in a faint smile, before he forced it
back down. When Harry looked to Dumbledore again, he saw the man give the
carpet the tiniest of nods and the shadow of a wink.

However, even these small reassurances didn't calm the hammering of his heart.
The fur of his tail was on end and he hoped no-one noticed. No matter how many
lies he told, and no matter how high Fudge's blood pressure rocketed, if
someone had tipped Umbridge off about the DA, then he, as the leader, might as
well be packing his trunk right now.

He was questioned again by Fudge, keeping the same surprised innocence in his
voice, which stayed surprisingly steady compared to his shaking hands, which
had been forced inside his pockets, hidden from view.

�I think,� Umbridge said silkily, eyeing Harry with contempt. Harry wondered
what torture she was about to suggest. �That we might make better progress if I
fetch our informant.�

XxXxXxX

The informant was Cho's curly-haired friend, Marietta, who was then quizzed
extensively by a smug Umbridge and Fudge, humiliated by a vicious jinx Hermione
had cast on her, the word 'Sneak' being spelled onto her forehead, formed by
pimples.

However, the strangest thing happened as she was being quizzed. Dumbledore's
brilliance had struck again � he had asked if the meetings had been a regular
occurrence, and she... had shook her head.

Umbridge snapped the question out again, but Marietta gave the same reply.

Harry traded confused looks with George, who shook his head, staring intently
at Dumbledore and Kingsley, standing behind him. He looked... suspicious.

Then Umbridge reached into her pocket, face twisted in perverse pleasure.
Harry's eyes narrowed, zeroing in on her hand as it withdrew.

He paled.

Umbridge produced a sheet of parchment with a flourish. �... Miss Parkinson ran
into the Room of Requirements for me to see if they had left anything behind.
We needed evidence, and the room provided it.�

The list. The list of students, every one of the member's names scrawled down
on one incriminating piece of parchment, Harry's name at the top. And even
above that, the title of DA. Dumbledore's Army.

Fred shook his head and George sighed. There was no escaping this. No matter
how good Dumbledore was at slipping Harry out of sticky situations, he couldn't
save him this time. Dumbledore sighed forlornly, steepling his fingers in front
of him. His twinkling blue eyes were uncommonly grave.

�See what they've named themselves?� Fudge was asking. �Dumbledore's Army.�

It was such a stupid name, the whole idea had been too dangerous, too risky.
Why had Harry ever agreed to it? Why hadn't he stopped it when the new decree
banning unauthorised clubs was added to the picture? Every single student on
that list would be in deep trouble.

Dumbledore had taken the parchment, staring at the names wordlessly, mouth set
in a grim line. Harry's tail was twitching back and forth agitatedly, and he
felt bloody ashamed of himself. For putting Dumbledore in this situation.

�Well, the game is up,� Dumbledore began simply. �Wold you like a written
confession from me, Cornelius � or will a statement before these witnesses
suffice?�

Harry frowned at the strange question, not seeing where Dumbledore was going.
He exchanged a confused look with Fred, seeing the boy wearing a similar frown,
before suddenly, his face lit with realisation.

Harry's eyes widened and he looked to George, who muttered 'bollocks' under his
breath.

Fudge was sputtering with confusion, his state of mind about the same as
Harry's.

�Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius,� Dumbledore said politely, smiling and waving
the parchment in Fudge's face. �Not Potter's Army. Dumbledore's Army.�

Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudge's face, and Harry began slowly realising
what Dumbledore was doing.

�You?� Fudge hissed, taking a step back. No one else said anything for a
moment. Even Malfoy had stopped his pathetic little groans of pain.

�You organised this?�

�I did,� Dumbledore confirmed, looking completely unperturbed. Harry felt like
shaking his head, denying Dumbledore's insane plan � why couldn't he let Harry
just get in trouble, like any normal headmaster? Fudge hated Dumbledore.

Dumbledore was describing how he had called the first meeting just that night,
but Harry could barely hear him past the roaring in his ears. Why would
Dumbledore...

�Then you have been plotting against
me!� Fudge accused, pointing a shaking finger.

�No!� Harry exclaimed � Fudge couldn't believe that load of crap! There was a
hand covering his mouth suddenly, dragging him back into the embrace of a
strong body.

�Quiet, Harry, or I'm afraid you'll have to leave my office,� Dumbledore said
mildly. Harry squeezed his eyes shut as George released his mouth, arms around
his waist. Fudge barked for him to shut up, too, and Fred shot him a nasty
glare, brushing his hand against Harry's, but not risking taking it in front of
Fudge, Umbridge, Percy Weasley � who had refused to meet the twins' eyes even
once � Kingsley, and a grey-haired man standing in the corner.

Fudge and Dumbledore argued � or, Fudge argued, and Dumbledore merely replied
cheerfully. When Fudge attempted to arrest Dumbledore, his lumbering attempts
at directing his two aurors failed miserably.

�Relax. Dumbledore knows what he's doing,� George whispered to him, pressing a
kiss to his cat ear. Harry was aware he was completely tense in George's
unyielding hug, but couldn't for the life of him relax.

�Enough of this rubbish!� Fudge cried, pulling out his wand. George tensed and
Fred moved in front of Harry protectively. �Dawlish, Shacklebolt, take him!�

A streak of silver light. The floors shaking. A loud bang that had Harry
jumping out his skin.

A hand grubbed the scruff of his neck and dragged him to the ground, a body
covering his. George rubbed his side soothingly, even as his head was buried in
Harry's shoulder. Harry's breath was coming out in harsh pants at the sudden
confusion.

Someone fell the ground, and there was a cry of 'No!', and some broken glass.
Then... silence.

Harry lifted his head higher, trying to see past the cloud of dust in the air
around him. George shifted off him slightly, and Fred took his hand, pulling
him up, and then grabbing him in a strangling hug, glaring around the room for
more danger.

�Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Mr Weasley,� Mcgonagall said as she approached them.
Harry thought it absurd that she still called them by so formal names when her
hair was sticking up slightly and her expression was frantic.

Her eyes swooped over them, assessing for injuries, before nodding and turning
to Dumbledore, who was looking at them gravely.

Harry sagged in Fred's arms, knowing just what was to come.

XxXxXxX

�I can't believe you did that!� Fred was raging at Harry as they sat in the
twin's dormitory the next morning, Lee Jordan having cleared out the moment
Harry was dragged in, hissing and kicking.

Harry sat on George's bed, looking at the floor sheepishly. Fred was, of
course, talking about Harry socking Malfoy in the face. Maybe it hadn't been
his smartest move, but Umbridge had it out for the twins � who knows how much
trouble George would have got into if Harry hadn't made it look like he had
attacked Malfoy?

As it was, Harry had received a month's detention with Filch, and fifty points
from Gryffindor, the punishment delivered by McGonagall, seeing as Umbridge was
too busy running around the school trying to find Dumbledore.

�She might have expelled you! She might have forced you into more torturous
detentions, she might have...�

George cut Fred off by smacking him lightly on the back of the head, then
sitting down on the bed next to Harry. Harry's lips twitched in a smile at
Fred's flabbergasted expression, before he was forced to look at George, a hand
cupping his jaw.

�Harry, we need you to understand how your well being is more important
than one of us getting a few detentions. The Ministry has labelled you insane
and Fudge will do anything to see you 'put in your place'. Me and Fred aren't
hated nearly as much by Umbridge.� Harry didn't think that was true. From the monumental
amount of pranks the twins played on Umbridge, it was safe to say she detested
them.

�Right, yeah,� Harry agreed, without really agreeing. George rolled his eyes
and Fred sighed irritably, kneeling down in front of Harry, hands on his knees.

�Promise us you won't do something that idiotic just to help us out again,�
Fred requested. Harry bit his lip and didn't look at Fred.

�I promise.� They all knew it was a lie.

XxXxXxX

Dun dun dun. So, heavy time skippage there, eh? I'll probably skip ahead
again next chapter.� I'm getting the
feeling this chapter was a bit too confusing, so I hope to hear your opinions
on it...

�

Idiot!Harry attack,
everyone run :P Oh kitten ;;shakes head sadly;;

Thanks so much for the reviews, as always! You guys really make me grin like a
loon ;)
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