Pretty Kitty (completed)

Chapter 43

Harry looked out at the lake moodily, not really seeing the large expanse of water. His mind was too full, swirling with thoughts of the prophecy and what it meant.

Everyone had survived, it seemed. Ron was back to normal and Hermione had woken a few days ago. The spell used on Fred had been deadly, draining him of his energy, if not treated as quick as it had been. Dark magic, Dumbledore had said, and left it at that. The twins were staying at the school for the rest of the year, probably to keep an eye on Harry, who hadn't been in the best of moods.

'For neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'

Harry shuddered. He'd always had an inkling that he would be a key part in the war on Voldemort – he'd always found himself thrust into the middle of fights, after all, ever since he was a baby. The prophecy, however, made it official. There was no escape from his destiny now, and he understood why Dumbledore had shielded it from him for so long.

He wished he'd never heard it.

"Want to talk?" a voice asked, startling Harry out of his brooding. He looked up at a familiar face, Fred. Fred sat down next to him heavily, curling an arm around his waist. George collapsed on his other side, beginning to rub his ears.

"Need a caring ear?"

"A shoulder to cry on?"

"A confidant?"

Harry grinned wryly at the twins. He hadn't told them about the prophecy – he hadn't told anyone, in fact. Everyone already worried about him so much, he didn't want them to feel like he was at that moment. Consumed with worry, depressed. Determined.

"Nah, I'll be fine," Harry murmured, claws subconsciously kneading at the grass beneath his hands nervously.

"The mark tells us different, kitten," George announced. Harry frowned, turning to him, completely perturbed. At his look, George laughed. "You don't think it's a one-way thing, do you?"

After he'd felt his mark heating up and cooling off periodically during the incident at the Department of Mysteries, Fred and George had explained to him why. It had been telling him they were in danger, when they were dangerously close to killing themselves via a prank – which had been a key factor in Harry going on a rescue mission – and then been caught in the fight.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked cautiously, already having an idea of which direction they were heading in, but hoping it was something completely different. Because there would be no denying all wasn't well if their bond was telling them something.

"Something's wrong," Fred chimed in, fixing him with a stern gaze. "Now, what is it?"

Harry gaped at them for a moment, before shaking his head so fast his cat ears flapped.

"Nothing, all right?" He didn't look at either of them, gazing out at the lake again. A tentacle rose from the water and waved at them lazily. Fred and George waved back at the giant squid.

A hand was suddenly warm against his cheek, and Harry's head was turned to look right into George's determined eyes.

"You've no idea how much we really love you," George murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Fred's lips were against his neck, trailing up his jaw, and then capturing his lips once George let them go.

"Please, we want to help you," Fred told him softly. Harry looked at Fred for a moment, before turning his gaze to George. There was no hint of mischief in their usually care-free blue eyes. Harry sighed.

"All right then," he murmured.

And then he told them all about the prophecy.

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