Pretty Kitty (completed)

Chapter 20

Months had passed since the twins had effectively scared off Malfoy.

However, despite the threat, Malfoy continued to watch Harry obsessively, and the twins began to look more and more worried, taking to retreating to the library, Hermione occasionally joining them. Harry had no idea what was going on, and every attempt at finding out was blocked by sex.

"Fucking horny bastards," Harry snarled. Ron stared at him in open mouthed shock at the seemingly completely random, very angry comment. Harry wrinkled his nose at the display of Ron's chewed up lunch, and shut Ron's mouth, grinning. Ron threw him a dirty look.

Ron hadn't said anything about Harry's hand to the twins or Hermione, although he occasionally brought it up with Harry, and then dropped all attempt at subtlety and ordered Harry to go to McGonagall. This often left him rather scratched up as Harry struggled away from the hand on his arm or wrist, and ran away.

He hadn't had any more detentions with Umbridge, so he failed to see how it was all that important. The cuts had healed, not leaving any scars, thanks to some foul smelling formula he'd made (after the four attempts).

However, Umbridge's lessons had not become any better. The oppressive silence as they all read, or wrote, or read some more, was grating on everyone's nerves. The Slytherins threw paper at the Gryffindors, littered with insults, and the Gryffindors snapped at them, causing points to be detracted.

This had prompted Hermione and Ron to corner him in the common room and demand that Harry start Defence lessons. Harry had stared at them in disbelief, and then refused.

"Aww, come on, kitten! You'd be great, and we'll reewaard you," Fred had crooned that night, George sitting at Harry's other side and kissing along his neck. They were secured in the seventh year boy's dorms, which Lee Jordan had taken to avoiding at all costs unless it was to sleep, and even then he secured his bed curtains with silencing spells in case the twins dragged Harry up for a late night rendezvous.

"No!" Harry had snapped, wriggling away and running down to the common room, seeking sanctuary with Seamus, Dean and Neville. The twins had proceeded to send Seamus murderous glares all night whenever the Gryffindor got too close to Harry.

However, after a week of Fred pouncing on him and dragging him into random closets, snogging him and then trying to get an affirmative answer to Hermione's proposal (then leaving when he didn't, much to Harry's frustration), and George bringing it up in the middle of pinning Harry to his bed and rutting against him (they hadn't got much further than the disastrous vibrator incident, Harry not allowing the twins anywhere near his arse), Harry broke.

"Fine!" he exclaimed one night as Hermione opened her mouth. "I'll do it!" Hermione gave him a confused look.

"I was just going to ask if you'd heard from Snuffles lately, but I'm so glad," Hermione replied, enveloping Harry in a surprising hug and scratching his ears. Harry reluctantly purred and nuzzled her cheek with the top of his head as she petted him.

This was what lead to him sitting in the Hog's Head, staring at his pint of butterbeer through the rather cloudy, dirty glass, and wishing he could take back his agreement. The Hog's Head? Really? It was so... unsanitary.

His eyes darted between the cloaked figure sitting on one of the barstools, swigging firewhiskey; the two old crones sitting at a table further away and shooting them looks; and the mindless barkeeper who was rubbing a dirty glass with an equally disgusting rag, staring into the distance.

"Why did I ever agree?" Harry whined, covering his cat ears, which were the main cause for the stares when they'd stepped inside. He felt so violated.