Pretty Kitty (completed)

Chapter 3

The next day, Harry woke up, praying desperately it had all been some extremely random dream brought on by a lack of sleep. It had taken him until the early hours of the morning to drop off, too preoccupied with thoughts of his new additions to his body, and how much of a freak people would realise he was.

"Leave 'im alone... tossing and turning for hours..."

"Fine... looks so… unaware..."

"… Thinking what I'm thinking…"

"... Stay away... doesn't need to be bothered..."

Harry languidly straightened himself from the ball he'd curled into, shifting onto his stomach with his back arched so he could stretch, arms pushing up against the headboard as they straightened out and fingers releasing his claws.

"That's adorable."

Harry shot up, tail poofed out at the voice that shouted in his ears. He glared at Fred, hissing.

"'S'too early for yelling," he muttered, rubbing his furry cat ear. He then frowned, realising that it was, in fact, reality.

He was a cat-boy.

Fred raised an eyebrow, sitting next to Harry and stretching out his hand, as if to stop Harry from falling off the edge of the bed he was precariously close to.

"I wasn't yelling," he told Harry, but the boy was preoccupied. Harry waited until Fred's hand was an inch away, before he suddenly unleashed his claws, hand shooting up to touch Fred's – not digging in, but a clear warning nonetheless.

"Yikes!" Fred howled, pulling his hand back. George was sitting at the end of Harry's bed, howling with laughter.

"Kitten's got claws," George said through laughs. It was just him and Fred in the room with Harry, who was feeling rather betrayed that Ron left him alone with these two.

"Stop touching my ears," Harry hissed, feeling that he should get that order out of the way. Fred pouted, moving to his brother.

"He threatened me," Fred said, voice sounding surprised and upset. Harry felt slightly guilty.

"There there, let me kiss it better," George comforted, lifting Fred's hand and kissing palm. His tongue stuck out to lick at his fingers.

Harry felt all the blood in his body begin to change course and head straight for his groin. The sight before him was like something out of one of his wet dreams, and he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

He wasn't.

Fred's eyes, darkened slightly with lust, turned towards Harry and he smirked.

"We'll be seeing you later, pretty Kitty," he told Harry. George smirked at him and blew him a good-bye kiss, before dragging Fred out of the room.

Harry scowled to himself, standing and heading straight for the bathroom after peaking his head out of the door to check no-one was standing around the hallway, ready to spring out with a muggle video camera and laugh in his face.

He had some business to take care of.

XxXxXxX

When Harry arrived at breakfast, he still felt lethargic. A shower hadn't woke him up, nor an indulgence into teenage hormones.

He spied Snape skulking in a dark corner, arms crossed and scowling as he spoke with Mr Weasley, who was holding out a plate of food that looked like it had gone off. Harry wondered why Mr Weasley would ever want to eat that.

Harry slumped into a seat beside Ron, narrowing his eyes at his friend, who broke off mid-sentence with Hermione to eye Harry warily.

"Why did you leave me alone with your bloody brothers?" Harry whispered through clenched teeth, as said brothers weren't too far away, giving an oblivious Ginny a stylish new mullet. Mrs Weasley bustled through and slapped a plate of food in front of Ginny, lips twisted angrily. She didn't say anything about Fred and George's prank, instead bustling back out without a word to Ginny, who stared after her mother sadly.