Pretty Kitty (completed)

Chapter 25

Fred stared at the ring adorning George's ring finger. "We're... we're..."

Married!" George finished excitedly, actual tears welling up in his eyes. Fred looked equally as awed and exuberant, his grip on George's hand tightening.

"We can spend the rest of our lives together," he whispered, looking into George's eyes. The two shared an intense look of love and desire.

"Forever. Just us two," George murmured. Fred nodded frantically.

"The two of us," he agreed, leaning forward to kiss George, who leaned into the kiss as well. They shared a passionate meeting of lips, and Harry cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the humongous lump firmly wedged in it.

"Fred?" he murmured, feeling pathetic and alone. "George?" Neither broke from their kiss to even acknowledge Harry, only groaned in annoyance at the irritating interruption and pressed closer to each other.

Harry suddenly felt like there was a huge gap separating them, a gap he could never, ever breach. But he had to try!

Harry ran. And ran, and ran.

His footsteps echoed loudly off the walls of the stone corridor, his breathing was harsh in his own ears. He was fairly certain he had a stitch in his side, only he couldn't actually feel it. It was just.. there.

The door grew closer. Harry stretched a hand out, reaching for it, desperate to swing it open, run inside, face the wonders he knew to be on the other side of that frustrating door.

His hand brushed the wood...

His scar seared his forehead.

XxXxXxX

Christmas was looming ever nearer.

And with it came Harry's conundrum. He had absolutely no idea what to get the twins. What did you get two boys who had brought out Zonko's, and only seemed to be interested in jokes, sex and catboys?

And Harry refused to get them anything that lead to sex. He wasn't desperate. Far from it, in fact.

Harry collapsed onto a sofa in front of the fireplace. George was serving his detention with Snape for the Quidditch incident – Harry felt sorry for him – and Fred was, again, in the library, after Hermione was manhandled him out of the common room, saying they needed to actually research the ritual the twins were dead set on going through with.

The ritual that made Harry smile, made them all smile. Connecting the twins together, legally, forever.

While you, of course, are left behind... a snide voice said condescendingly, sounding very much like Malfoy. Harry scowled and mentally batted it away – he couldn't afford to feel self-pitying. The twins were so excited! If he was in a bad mood, they'd probably attack him with happiness.

Harry lay on his side on the sofa, basking in the glow of the flames. He couldn't help it if he started purring lightly – the fire was just so comfortable.

"Ayup, mate," a cheery voice burst his bubble of sleepiness, and Harry turned to face the boy who'd sat at the end of the sofa, grinning at Harry's curled up form. Harry smiled.

"Hey Dean," he greeted, slowly sitting up – he wanted to just lie down all day, but that would be rude. He liked Dean, didn't get enough chances to talk to him with the twins constantly consuming his attention. Dean's smile faltered slightly, and he looked to the flames.

Harry frowned, scooting slightly closer to Dean. There was something wrong with him, wasn't there? Harry may not be perceptive, but anyone could see the dark cloud hanging over Dean's head.