Pretty Kitty (completed)

Chapter 9

The next day, Harry awoke to rapping on the door. He frowned slightly, shifting in his bed, which seemed warmer than usual. And was filled with more bodies than usual.

"Ron, ge'rrouta my bed," Harry grumbled, lazily swatting at whomever was in front of him. He heard a laugh, and then someone caught his wrist, pulling him closer until he was pressed chest to chest with him. The body behind Harry moved closer to him as well, arms slithering around his waist.

"Maybe Ron's not as straight as we once thought," a familiar voice said.

"...We thought Ron was straight?" another voice answered, surprised at this information. Harry opened an eye to glare at George, who grinned back down at him, shifting some of his black hair out of his uncovered eyes.

"Time to get up, kitten. Diagon Alley's a-calling," George told him, kissing his forehead, right on the scar. Harry smiled at him blearily before turning over and cuddling into Fred. Surely Fred wouldn't make him get up.

"Aww, our kitty likes me better than you, Forge," Fred told George, and Harry could imagine him sticking his tongue out. However, the imagery was wiped away as Fred moved a hand up to fuss his ears, causing his back to arch, so he was pressed fully against Fred. Fred groaned slightly, his other hand snaking down to Harry's arse.

"Much as I would love to see where this is heading," George quipped, the sounds of him pulling one of his drawers out meeting Harry's ears. "We need to get moving before Mum walks in on something she'd prefer not to."

"Don't ruin it George. Why would you ruin it?" Fred whined, sitting up slowly. George shot him an evil smirk, bending down to kiss Fred's lips lightly. However, Fred grabbed onto the back of George's head and pulled him closer, the kiss turning harder as he parted George's lips and slipped his tongue past them. George groaned, moving to lie on the bed, preferably on top of Fred.

However, Fred released him of the kiss and stood, grabbing a pair of jeans that had been flung on the floor last night. He pulled them on, disregarding underwear, and waved at George and Harry before walking out of the room, shirtless.

George and Harry stared after him, before turning to each other, lust burning their eyes. However, there was another knock, and Mrs Weasley popped her head around into the room, eyes widening when she caught sight of George in just boxers, and Harry under the sheets.

"And what was going on here?" she asked, moving firmly in to the room and placing her hands on her hips. Harry looked absolutely mortified, and even George was blushing faintly, looking at the floor.

"Nothing, he was just sleeping, Mum, honest!" George defended. Mrs Weasley narrowed her eyes.

"That's as may be, but I expect Harry out of this room in five minutes and back into his own to change, and if I catch him 'sleeping' in your room again, you won't like the consequences," she told them, "at least try to remember that people won't be as accepting outside of Grimmauld. You won't get away with this at Hogwarts, you know."

XxXxXxX

Harry had slunk out of the twins room a few minutes later, after pulling on a shirt and attempting to engage George in conversation. However, the redhead still seemed to be suffering the trauma of Mrs Weasley's visit, and so the conversation was brief and one-sided.

Harry was now sitting at the table, claws idly tracing the wood, sometimes digging in to create indents, and then scratching down to cause long lines. It was his table, no other cats allowed.

He glared briefly as Crookshanks came sneaking past. Crookshanks glared right back.

Charlie Weasley, who had come back to see his family and help the Order for a few weeks, kept glancing up from the Daily Prophet- which was still spouting stories on how Harry's 'cat-ness' was a sign of evil- to shoot dark looks at Harry for the horrible sound he was creating. Charlie still hadn't got over the new cat additions.