Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

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
- 8
- 9
- 10
Chapter Nine (The chapter titles are screwed up, apologies)

“I'm just gonna ask George something, all right?” Fred murmured into Harry's cat ear, kissing the tip before withdrawing his hand from Harry's jumper pocket, where he and Harry had been clasping hands secretly.

“Sure,” Harry replied, watching Fred wander over to where George was looking for robes. Fred hadn't left his side since they'd arrived here, which was slightly disconcerting, but also relaxed Harry immensely to know that Fred was protective of him after hearing the extent of Voldemort's drive for killing him, as opposed to put-off. He didn't think he'd be able to stand it if the twins had stopped this 'relationship', not seeing him worth the effort.

Just the fact that George obviously wasn't interested in him was hurting immensely. He desperately hoped Fred wouldn't take the same path, selfish and unrealistic as the thought was. If it came down to the choice between Harry and George, Fred was sure to side with George.

Harry drifted out of the store and stood in the sunshine for a moment, feeling his eyelids drooping. He desperately wanted to curl up under the sun and nap, but shook the thought off. He should probably go back into the shop before he got in trouble, as was bound to happen.

...But the sun was so warm.

Harry found himself walking towards a bench not too far away and sitting down, managing to resist the urge to curl up. That would draw even more unwanted attention, not that his ears and tail weren't doing a good job. They almost seemed to be preening under the attention of the stares of people passing by, nudging each other and whispering.

I really need to go back into the shop, he thought to himself, casting a glance back at Madam Malkin’s, feeling unnerved by the stares. The thought of what was waiting for him back in the shop, stony silence from George, and maybe even Fred, made him hesitate before standing up.

He shoved his hands into his jeans and ambled back to the door, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. However, this didn't work.

“It's Harry Potter!” someone called out, and then, in the blink of an eye, he was surrounded by crowds of people, all staring at him intently. Harry gasped, eyes wide as he tried to look for a gap between the tightly pressed bodies, a way out of the people all around him. Hands were reaching towards him, perilously close to his tail or ears. He hissed and hit the hands away.

A flash met his eyes and he blinked dazedly in the aftermath of the camera. A few more flashes and he was backing up frantically, tail poofed out in panic, ears swivelling every-which-way. Merlin, they were just all around him.

“Fuck!” Harry cursed as hands tugged at his tail, examining it with interest. He turned around and, claws out, scraped his hand over a man's cheek. The man staggered back, releasing his tail and clutching his bleeding cheek.

Harry saw his chance and pushed past the wizard, slipping through a gap and escaping swiftly, running as fast as he could. He didn't know where he was running, just that he had to go, had to find somewhere to hide. Maybe somewhere tall ...

And so it was this line of thought that found Harry Potter, cat-boy extraordinaire, stuck high up in a tree he'd found in a magical park just by the side of Gringotts.

The park was empty, save for a few children and mothers playing or sitting on the benches. Nobody had really noticed a teenage boy zipping through the park towards the crop of surrounding trees and frantically clawing his way up the tallest.

Nobody had followed him, either, leaving him safe and sound, high up in a tree where no-one could see him. Or hear him.

Even when he yowled pitifully for help.

It took Harry all of ten minutes to realise he couldn't actually get down from the tree. Every time he attempted to make his descent, the branch would be too weak, or the sight of the ground below him would make him nauseous, and he'd cling to the thick branch he was holding on to.

He couldn't believe he was acting like such a scaredy-cat. The tree wasn't even that high, he'd climbed taller when he was young and escaping from Dudley, or Aunt Marge's dogs. So why couldn't he get down from this one?

Harry meowed, growled and clawed at the branch, but nothing he did teleported him off the tree, or grabbed the attention of those in the park. He was completely and utterly stuck. Even if the others noticed he was missing and went looking for him, why would they check this nearly deserted park, or the trees around it, for a cat-boy who couldn't even talk because his cat instincts were forcing his human mind too far back with panic?

Bollocks.

XxXxXxX

“What do you mean, 'you don't know where he went'?” George snarled, shaking the man he was interrogating by the shoulder. The man glared, nursing his scratched up cheek, which both George and Fred surveyed with satisfaction. The man deserved every drop of pain he got from the deep gouges.

“I don't bloody know where he went! He just scratched me and took off! Maniac, he is. Daily Prophet's right,” the man snapped, before shaking George off and walked away, muttering under his breath. The twins glared after him darkly, not pleased with losing their outlet for the panic they felt clawing their insides.

“Can't we try searching him out with magic?” Fred asked, sitting heavily on a bench and dropping his head into his hands. George stood over him, fidgeting agitatedly.

“You heard what dad said. Dumbledore's got wards around Harry to stop detection spells being cast by Voldemort. Who knew that plan would come back to bite us?” George said, chuckling without mirth. Fred groaned and shook his head.

They'd been up and down all of Diagon Alley, and Mr Weasley and Shacklebolt were even combing muggle London to try and find even a glimpse of Harry, who was last seen running away from a crowd of people harassing him about his new cat features.

“Shouldn't have let him out of my sight,” Fred muttered. Why had he presumed, even for a second, that Harry was safe? He had an evil Dark Lord out for his blood, of course he wasn't safe. Add that to the fact that Harry managed to find trouble just by standing still, and it was a recipe for disaster.

“It wasn't your fault, just shut up about that. He probably wandered off because I've been a right wanker to him and he felt hurt or something,” George said, collapsing beside Fred and sighing deeply. He was such a dick.

“It wasn't your fault, either,” Fred told him sternly. “Yeah, you're a dick sometimes, but you came around. You're not exactly going to win a prize for being the baddest bad boy in town.”

George shot Fred an amused look, a smile on his lips, before he leant back and looked up at the clear blue sky.

“All right, let's stop playing the blame game and figure out where on earth Harry would have gone,” George said, frowning in concentration. He wanted to find Harry desperately. The longer he was missing, the more chance there was that Voldemort could get a hold of him.

“If I was a cat, being chased by... a dog, where would I run to?” Fred mused, before sitting up straight, eyes widened as he spotted one of the trees fixed in Diagon Alley to look scenic. “How about a tree?”

George sat up as well, staring at Fred with wonder in his eyes.

“Fred, my love, you're a genius!” he exclaimed, only just resisted the urge to ravish Fred right in the middle of Diagon Alley. Fred smiled smugly, standing up.

“I know.”

XxXxXxX

Harry was growling angrily to himself, chest rumbling as he lay on his back on the tree branch, tail lazily hanging down and swishing.

Just jump! You're a cat! You can land on all four legs... or two legs, his mind screamed at him, but whenever he looked down, he felt nausea and panic swarm within him. It just looked like such a big drop. His leg was sure to break, and there were no other branches sturdy enough for him to climb down from.

How did I even get up here? he wondered, unable to believe he just levitated up. None of those branches would hold his weight for more than a second before they collapsed.

Wish I could do magic outside of school, he thought to himself, turning to lie on his stomach, still rumbling in frustration. He meowed pitifully again, unable to stop himself, when he saw the drop. Maybe I can plead it was a life or death situation in court?

“Aww, is our pretty kitty stuck up a tree?” a familiar voice asked, catching his attention. With hope swelling in his chest, he turned his head to see George and Fred standing beneath the tree, looking up with relief.

Huh... They must have been really worried, he thought to himself, a warm feeling spreading in his chest at the thought of the two worried about his well-being.

“Harry?” George called, catching his attention. Harry mewed back at him, clinging tighter to the tree as a breeze rustled it. He saw George smile at the action, and narrowed his eyes. The git was laughing at him.

How could I have even thought they'd be worried? They probably only came to laugh at me, stupid Potter stuck up a tree.

Harry turned so he was lying on his back on the branch, facing away from the twins, heedless of their calls for him to turn around. He ignored the stinging in his eyes at the thought of them only coming to add to his humiliation.

However, a rustling near him caused him to startle. He yowled and sat up straight, only to see George sitting on a branch next to him. Harry frowned. He must have been really lost in his own thoughts to not hear the redhead climb up.

“Kitten, I'm really sorry,” George said, breaking the silence that had fallen around them. Harry stared at him distrustfully and George sighed, reaching out to stroke Harry's cheek. Harry tried to pull away, but George cupped his jaw, keeping him in place.

“I am, I'm sorry. It doesn’t matter about what people think. Since when have I ever cared about that? I shouldn’t have cared now, but I don’t think that’s what was getting to me… I was worried, so worried, after what I’d heard last night. I don’t know what I’d do if Voldemort hurt you,” George told him, not giving Harry a chance to speak, staring straight into his eyes. “Instead of running away, I shouldn’t have ever let you out of my sight, shouldn’t have let you think, for one second, I was second guessing our relationship. I promise to never hurt you like that.”

It was at that moment, that Harry realised he was feeling something that he probably shouldn't, not so early in the relationship. A warmth in his chest, nearly bringing tears to his eyes, and making him smile widely.

He'd certainly fallen for George Weasley. And for Fred, who was standing below them, listening intently and worriedly.

Harry nuzzled into George's hand and kissed his palm softly, nodding, the cat part of him still not letting him speak, no matter how much he wanted to say that he forgave George, to reassure him.

George seemed to get the message anyway, and suddenly grabbed onto a branch above him, swinging himself so that he was sitting beside Harry on his branch. He once again cupped Harry's jaw and drew the boy in for a gentle kiss, brushing their lips together before pulling away.

As Harry stared at him dazedly, he smirked and slid his arms forward, one under Harry's knees, the other around his back, and scooped him up. Harry yowled and clung to George as the young man jumped off the branch.

Was he insane?!

Harry clawed at George's shoulders, hissing furiously, as the two hit the ground with a light thump, George still upright, although wincing slightly at Harry's claws digging in to his skin. Fred laughed at him.

“Way to terrify him, dear brother,” Fred said, moving forward to take Harry from George's arms, relieving the other twin of the claw attack. Fred cradled Harry, kissing his forehead as Harry calmed, then smiled smugly at George. “He still likes me better.”

XxXxXxX

Fred side-along apparated Harry to the middle of Diagon Alley, next to a large clock, where the group had arranged to meet in an hour in case any of them had found Harry.

George sat on a bench in front of the clock and Fred sat next to him, moving Harry to sit back to chest, with Harry sitting in the 'v' of Fred's legs.

Five minutes later, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs Weasley and Remus came running up to them after seeing the figure sitting on Fred, the black hair easy to pick out amongst the flaming red of the twins.

“Harry!” Hermione practically screamed, causing Ron, who was standing closest to her, to wince and rub his ear. Hermione, however, took no notice, as she was too busy smothering Harry. Harry was hauled off of Fred's lap by the force of the hug, and stood nervously, wrapping his arms around Hermione when he saw the girls shoulders shake.

Eventually, Hermione pulled back, wiping her face with her sleeve and sniffling slightly. Her eyes were still watery.

“Sorry, it's just... with what we heard last night... I thought-” Harry smiled at her guiltily and pulled her in for another brief hug, before he was suddenly tackled by a relieved Mrs Weasley, who was also sobbing fiercely.

Harry turned pleading eyes to Hermione, and Ron, who had Hermione in his arms, looking very pleased at her need to cuddle with him. Ron grinned at his plight, not moving to help, unsure what to say to Harry, considering he'd just spent the last few hours pleading with any God who was listening for Harry to not have been captured by Death Eaters.

It was all rather embarrassing, looking back on it. Hermione was sure to make fun of him later.

“All right, mum, lay off him before you drench his shirt,” George finally said, extracting Harry from her grip so he could hug the cat-boy to him, arms around Harry's waist. Harry smiled and wrapped an arm around George's back.

“Where on earth did you find him, anyway? In a bush?” Mrs Weasley asked incredulously, taking in the state of Harry, who had twigs caught in his hair and leaf stains on his clothes. Harry grinned childishly at her, causing her to sigh. Honestly, they all acted like they were five sometimes.

“Close. Seems our little Harrykins got himself stuck up a tree. He must have been so scared,” Fred told her, speaking in a very patronising tone. Harry growled at him. Mrs Weasley clucked her tongue.

“Hopefully, you’ll learn from this,” Remus interjected with a smile, patting Harry's shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes and George's arm tightened as the red head bent down to kiss his neck lightly and placatingly.

At that moment, Shacklebolt and Mr Weasley returned, looking relieved to find Harry with them, and the whole process, minus the sobbing girls, started again, with George joining in.

Fred slipped away during the commotion over Harry, sending a conspiratorial wink to George as he made his way over to Eeylop's Owl Emporium, opening the door and going inside.

Five minutes later he emerged carrying a brown paper bag, which he scrunched up and spelled smaller, slipping it into his jeans pocket.

XxXxXxX

“Now, little Harry, since you've been such a bad kitty, running away and all, you simply have to have something to keep this from happening.” Harry jumped as hands landed on his shoulder, and broke away from staring at the fire boredly.

He, Ron and Hermione had been sitting in the living room, Harry still feeling wired and jumpy, and not really up for conversation. He hadn't realised that Ron and Hermione had vacated the room until George brought him from his thoughts.

He frowned when he felt something slide against his throat, and then go around his neck. There was a little jingle of a bell, and he lifted his hands to his neck, eyes widened when he felt smooth leather.

“W-what is this?” Harry asked hesitantly, running his hands over what felt very much like a collar. But George wouldn't put a collar on him! He wasn't some house-cat, he was very much a boy with a few cat like additions.

“That, lovely, is a collar, with a little bell on it.” Harry's jaw clenched as he felt two small golden buds, which housed bells inside, attached to the front of his collar. His eyes turned up to seek George's gaze.

“Don't thank me now, dearest,” George told him, smirking, and then hastily making his way out of the room before Harry got his wits about him. When he recovered from the shock of being collared, he stood up slowly, walking out of the room and up the stairs.

Fred and George were going to pay for this.
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