Pretty Kitty

Betaed by the marvellous Profound Yaoi!

XxXxXxX

It had been three days since Harry's disappearing act, and the twins were holed up in their room, conspiring. Harry had began hanging around Ron and Hermione more, plotting his just revenge; not going near the twins, hissing every time one of them got close. He still hadn't found a way to take the collar off, and the adults in the house couldn't break the spells used either.

Being together never did it like it used to and the twins were ridiculously frustrated with Harry abandoning them like this. Despite it being their fault.

All right, so mostly it was frustration at themselves.

“Should we really do this?” George asked worriedly. “What if it had some strange side effect? We don't know for sure this could work...” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Harry's never been allergic to anything before, and besides, he's a cat! What can a little bit of a cat's favourite treat do, really? He gets distracted for a couple of minutes before it wears off, enough time for us to drag him in here, tie him up and torture him until he talks,” Fred reasoned. “Besides, it was your idea!”

George backed down at this, knowing he shouldn't back out of this. He never backed out of pranks, and this was so much more important than some joke. He, dare he say it, missed Harry.

“Right, if you're sure,” George murmured, collecting the plants strewn on their bed into his arms. He nodded to Fred, who lifted up the mattress of one of the two beds shoved together, and George allowed the green plants to tumble from his arms and onto the wood beneath. Thankfully, their beds didn't have planks for underneath support, just one large strip of wood the size of the mattress.

Fred let go of the mattress, which fell back onto the wood and plants with a muffled thump. The evidence of what they were planning was hidden, and Harry wouldn't be able to find out what was about to drive him, apparently, hyper.

“Still, maybe we shouldn’t,” George finally burst out with after a few minutes of terse silence. “He’s not a cat, he’s a person too. Who knows what it could do to him?”

Fred groaned at George’s persistence, until George turned puppy-dog eyes on him; something that rarely happened. “Fine, fine! I know you’re serious when you use those eyes.” As Fred grumbled, George grinned to himself. “We remove the catnip, research it more, and if it’s harmless, then can we use it?”

George nodded, about to lift the mattress up and gladly remove his guilt, when they heard meowing from outside of the door.

XxXxXxX

“I'm gonna go find the twins,” Harry told Ron and Hermione after an awkward pause due to Ron and Hermione staring at each other, love struck, but too stubborn and scared to admit it.

“All right,” Hermione said absent-mindedly, and Harry grinned at the two before standing and walking from the room, shaking his head. Watching Ron and Hermione, who had become slightly closer because of Harry spending time with the twins, amused everyone greatly.

Harry ascended the stairs lazily, taking care not to disturb Mrs Black. The twins had been hiding out in their rooms for the past day or so, which Harry found rather suspicious, especially after the collar incident. The mischievous glances they shared when in public only raised his suspicion. Thankfully, whatever they were planning didn't stop them from sneaking up on Harry and dragging him into random rooms to snog briefly, although they never got further, due to Harry escaping, stupid bells on his collar jingling, in pseudo-annoyance. It reassured Harry that George was over his troubles with the relationship, and Fred wasn't bothered by it at all.

Harry crept down the hallway to Fred and George's room. He could hear the two moving about in it and wanted to surprise them, jump in and catch them red-handed, plotting some evil plan, and then rat them out to Mrs Weasley. He would get his revenge. His hand reached for the door handle, and he inhaled deeply to calm his sudden nerves. There was a strange fluttery feeling in his stomach.

Harry frowned, hand dropping from the door when he smelled a sweet, intoxicating scent drifting from the twins’ room. It invaded his senses; drifting languidly up his nose and almost curling around his consciousness. His cat ears and tail perked up as heat flared through his body.

Harry gasped suddenly as pleasure crashed through him, causing him to back up, lean against the wall opposite the door and sag. His eyes drooped and his breathing sped up at the arousal coursing through his veins. His cock took a sudden interest in the situation.

Then, just as suddenly as the sensation arrived, it disappeared. Harry, panting for breath after the intense experience, straightened up shakily and moved towards the door, now intent on finding what the twins were keeping in their room.

However, when he reached for the door again, his nose caught the scent, and he sunk to his knees on the floor when the pleasure resumed. His dick began to rise, pressing against his jeans, and Harry groaned softly, hands on the floor between his knees as he bent forward slightly, unable to think of the mystery surrounding the arousal, his mind only on receiving pleasure; needing it.

He moaned again, louder, hand creeping underneath his t-shirt as the smell from the bedroom in front of him continued to captivate him. He didn't care where he was, kneeling in the hallway, where anyone could come across him at any moment. It didn't cross his mind how humiliating it would be for Sirius or Mrs Weasley to find him.

However, the chance of that happening was wiped away as the door to the twins’ bedroom was opened by Fred, who frowned, and, upon finding no-one standing outside despite the muffled noises he'd heard, looked down, seeing Harry sitting there, hunched up and gasping for breath. His eyes widened.

“Harry, you all right?” he asked worriedly, kneeling beside Harry, who looked up at him blearily, before reaching out a hand to Fred, grasping the teen's shirt in his fist and pulling Fred closer. Fred was forced to bend towards Harry, and he put out his hands to steady himself on Harry's hips.

Harry arched into the contact, bringing his face closer to Fred's. His lips brushed against the redhead's, before Harry pressed them firmly together, his other arm wrapping around Fred's neck and ensuring that he couldn't escape.

Fred wrapped his arms around Harry's back and urged the boy to sit on his lap and wrap his legs around Fred's waist, which Harry did gladly, groaning loudly when his sensitive erection brushed Fred's stomach.

Then Fred tore his lips away. “George!” he called breathlessly, because George had much more self-restraint than he, and might have a better chance resisting Harry. George poked his head out of the room, eyebrows rising at the sight of a very flushed, clearly aroused Harry straddling Fred’s lap and molesting him.

“Bloody hell,” George murmured, leaving the room and grabbing a hold of Harry underneath his arms, lifting him up. Harry squirmed.

“Aww, no, please,” he whined, trying to break away from George’s hold, turn around and proceed to attack him, too.

“Got any sleeping spells handy?” George grunted, dragging Harry into the room and setting him on the bed. When Harry made to get up, he muttered “Petrificus Totalus.” Harry fell back on the bed, body bound, looking mutinous. George pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry, kitten.”

“It’s the catnip, right?” Fred pointed out, and then lifted up the mattress. “Clearly, we shouldn’t have used so much.” He waved his wand, vanishing it all, and Harry’s expression loosened slightly.

“How long until the effects wear off?” George asked, worried, and sat on the bed, stroking Harry’s hair. Fred shrugged, sitting on Harry’s other side, and fidgeting with the flickering cat ears unaffected by the body bind.

After a few minutes, Harry had seemed to calm down. Fred started with;“We’re so sorry, kitten,” he murmured, “we thought it’d only make you a bit hyper!” Harry’s eyes narrowed, and Fred gulped. “We, erm…. George, help! He’s giving me evils!”

George could see Harry’s eyes crinkle in amusement, and tried to fight off his own smile. “I reckon it’s worn off,” he announced, undoing the body bind. Both sighed in relief when Harry didn’t immediately jump on them again. The catboy sat up, squirming slightly uncomfortably, cheeks flushed, whether from embarrassment or arousal, they didn’t know.

“Why the fuck would you want me hyper?!” he rounded on Fred first, who cowered under Harry’s wrath.

“I-I-I-I don’t know…. George, help!” he pleaded again. George was too busy suppressing a smirk, until Harry rounded on him, equally as furious.

“And you! Fred can be a right idiot sometimes, but you’re the sensible one! … Compared to Fred. Didn’t you bother reading up on it? Or suggest using just a bit? You used tons of catnip on one person without knowing the effects?!

“And why the hell did you even do it, anyway? Because I was pissed at you?!” Fred and George were looking at the bedspread, shamefaced. Harry crossed his arms, satisfied that he’d ranted at them successfully. Fred and George, for all their brilliance, could do some idiotic things. “So you decided to control me?! As if I’ve not got enough of that! The Ministry, Voldemort trying to get into my mind, Dumbledore bloody ignoring me! Now I have to put up with it from you, too?!”

But at least they’d stopped Harry from going too far. And Harry had made some mistakes too. His speciality was being a heroic idiot, really.

“… But,” Harry continued, seeing them both twitch at the word that could possibly lead to their forgiveness. “Thanks. For stopping me, I guess. It would’ve been too easy to think I was willing… I looked pretty willing, right?”

“Way too willing. And sexy…” Fred muttered, shutting his mouth at the glare Harry shot him. “Sorry, sorry, forget what I said!”

“Tit,” George said under his breath. Fred shot him a fake-hurt look and George stuck his tongue out. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Just… don’t do anything like that again. Ever. Don’t even try and prank me with your bloody sweets,” he added. Fred and George gaped at him – no pranks? “I hate them!”

“Don’t be silly-“

“- That’s just impossible-“

“-No-one can hate our brilliant inventions-“

“- Our works of art! Our-“

“Everyone hates them!” Harry cut across before they went on their twin spiel about their wondrous inventions. “Except when other people are being pranked with them,” he then admitted, because watching Ron turn into a canary frequently was quite amusing, if only because he never learned.

“Nuh-uh, kitten, either you hate them in their entirety, or you don’t hate them at all, no exceptions,” George told him, rubbing an angrily flickering cat ear.

“That doesn’t matter!” Harry snarled, marvelling inwardly at the twins’ ability to wind him up to the point of manslaughter. “No pranks on me, ever. And I mean it!”

Fred and George sighed despairingly in unison. “One prank gone wrong –“

“- And the whole world’s against you,” Fred finished dramatically.

“I’d hardly call that a prank,” Harry grumbled under his breath. Pranks were supposed to be humorous, even for the victim. That had, in no way, been humorous.

“Right, right, no pranks on you. Ever again. It’s the least we can do,” George finally said, settling down beside Harry and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before whipping out his wand and pointing it at Harry’s neck. On Harry’s other side, Fred pouted.

“Wait, what are you doing?!” Harry exclaimed, hands flying up to cover his neck – they’d just said no pranks! George raised his eyebrows.

“Removing the collar? As in, one of our pranks that you don’t want us to do?”

“What’s wrong, Harry, not become attached to the collar, have you?” Fred practically purred, sliding his hand along the collar and down Harry’s neck to his shoulder. Harry scowled and shook his head so hard the bells jingled.

“Right then,” George said, moving his wand again, about to cast a spell to remove it, when Harry’s hands once again flew up, batting the wand out of his hand. All three of them froze for a moment.

Fred began snickering.

Harry avoided the grin spreading out over George’s face, sighing. “Fine, fine… don’t… remove the collar, all right? I guess… I do kind of… slightly, only slightly, like it,” Harry finally forced out. Because he did like it. A lot.

But he didn’t want the twins to know that.

“But that doesn’t mean you can do anything else! I mean it!” Harry exclaimed, fixing them both with stern looks that, to them, only looked adorable.

“Fine, fine, we won’t do anything else, right? You just look too cute to prank right now anyway!”

As Fred tackled Harry to the bed and George fell on top of them both, laughing, Harry cried out “I’m not cute!”

His cry was to no avail.

XxXxXxX

'Kill the spare.'

Harry looked down into Cedric's dead eyes, filled with horror. Cedric stared up at the clear night's sky, unseeing.

“Cedric!” Harry groaned, hands coming up to cover his face, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes.

When he lowered his hands, he was no longer in the graveyard. No dead Cedric, no Wormtail and no Voldemort. He stood in a stone hallway, lit by flickering torches attached to the walls, casting eerie shadows around him.

There was a door at the end of the hallway, the only door Harry could see, and it was calling out to him. He frowned and began to move towards it, hand outstretched. The door began coming closer and closer, and yet it was taking too long.

He ran the rest of the distance, hand nearly touching the door, fingers scraping across the wood...

His scar flared.

XxXxXxX

“Harry! Mate, wake up!” Ron's voice penetrated his groggy mind and Harry shot up, breathing heavily, feeling as if he'd run a marathon. Ron frowned at the spooked expression on Harry's face.

“You all right?” he asked, moving to his own bed to pull on a t-shirt he found in that dark space underneath. Harry nodded, bringing a shaky hand to run through his hair, sighing when he felt it prod his cat ear.

“Yeah, bad dream,” he told Ron, rubbing his scar with his fingers. It tingled, but the pain had subsided. He wondered why that dream caused his scar to burn. It seemed like such a random connection.

And then Harry remembered when Voldemort had touched his scar in the graveyard, the immense pain that had come from it. He felt certain the dream had something to do with Voldemort. Ever since he and the twins had started their relationship, those nightmares centring around Cedric had slowly come to a halt, possibly due to how happy he felt. Why were they starting again?

“Well, you better get ready. Mum's going ballistic, trying to wake us up and get us all ready. Insane, she is,” Ron said, turning to see Harry touching his scar, a confused expression on his face.

“Your scar bothering you?” he asked, and Harry gave him a flat look. Ron grinned at the obviousness of the answer. “Maybe you should tell Dumbledore,” he suggested, already knowing that Harry wouldn't take the advice. He was too proud, and thought that, because Voldemort had risen, it was obvious his scar would flare up occasionally, nothing to badger Dumbledore about. Ron sometimes wondered when Harry had stopped caring about himself.

“All right, stop looking at me that way,” Harry suddenly said, snapping Ron out of his musings and making him look away from Harry, who found Ron’s sad stare unnerving.

Harry sighed and stood up, moving over to his trunk at the end of the bed, and carefully ignoring the steady jingling that both raised and calmed his anger levels. Everything had been packed up, except for a set of clothes to wear for that day, which he'd laid on top of his trunk. Ron was frantically packing, having forgotten to do so before, despite Hermione constantly reminding him. Harry laughed softly and grabbed a towel, heading for the bathroom across the hall.

He couldn't wait to get out of Grimmauld and get back to Hogwarts. Maybe, there, he could find ways to remove the cat ears and tail, and the instincts that came with them.

XxXxXxX

The house was in commotion when Harry emerged from his room, freshly showered and toting his trunk and Hedwig in her cage. Ron had gone downstairs a few minutes before to talk to Hermione, causing Harry to grin at him in a knowing manner. Ron had flushed bright red and left hastily.

“-COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY-” Harry heard Mrs Weasley screeching as he came down the stairs, trunk thumping behind him. Mrs Weasley stood in the hallway, right in front of Mrs Black's portrait, which was screaming obscenities at them all. Fred and George were on the receiving end of Mrs Weasley's rant, looking down and scuffing their feet with what Harry could tell was fake remorse. Nothing like the real emotion they'd shown Harry two weeks ago.

Hermione, who was leaning on the wall next to the front door and talking to Remus, waved Harry over. He weaved in between the people crowding the hallway and reached the two.

“What's all the yelling for?” he asked, looking around to see Ginny slouched near the door to the kitchen, looking a little bit worse for wear, and scowling moodily.

“Fred and George decided it would be a fabulous idea to send their trunks flying down the stairs using magic. Nearly knocked Ginny out. Needless to say, she got a bit battered, but Mrs Weasley patched her up just fine,” Remus told him, welcoming him with a friendly smile. At his feet sat Sirius in his animagus form. Padfoot barked and stood, going to sit by Harry's feet.

“Oh, I see where your loyalties lie,” Remus said mock-woefully to the dog, who merely licked Harry's hand and wagged his tail. Harry grimaced at his saliva covered hand.

“Why are we all just waiting he-ow! Sirius!” he suddenly yelled, wrapping a hand around his tail and backing against the wall in case Sirius decided to take another bite. “That bloody hurt!”

Remus whacked Sirius on the back of the head, fixing him with a scolding look. Seemed like Sirius couldn't control the urge to bite at cat-Harry when in dog form.

“We're waiting because Mad-Eye insists that we stay until Sturgis Podmore arrives, so that the whole guard is here,” Hermione told Harry, hesitantly reaching out her hand to take Harry's tail and check if Sirius had bit it hard, as Harry had trouble seeing with the awkward angle. However, Sirius's teeth hadn't broken skin.

“There's a guard?” Harry groaned out, realising that getting to the station would be madness with a whole bloody guard there. They'd attract a million stares when they got to their platform.

“Well, there has to be-”

“Can't be letting our little pussy cat get chased by big bad dogs or ran over by cars.” Harry turned and glared darkly at the twins, who had arrived at his side. Mrs Weasley, having abandoned telling the twins off, was now yelling at everyone to get downstairs, even though the only one still upstairs was Charlie.

“But Voldemort's supposed to be lying low!” Harry exclaimed to Hermione, deciding on ignoring the twins, who merely moved in closer to Harry, surrounding him on both sides and moving to attack his ears and tail.

“We can't afford to take risks,” Remus informed him, still keeping an eye on Sirius in case the dog decided to take another chunk out of Harry.

“Right, I'm not waiting any longer,” Mrs Weasley finally snapped after checking the time again. They were going to be late if they didn't hurry. She bustled over to Harry, who happily extracted himself from the twins. He didn't need any obvious signs of his interest in the looks they were giving him springing up as they made their way to the station.

“Harry, you're coming with me and Tonks,” Mrs Weasley told him briskly, waving her wand at Harry's trunk to make it lighter. Fred and George immediately wrapped their arms around his waist, giving their mother a pointed look.

“We're coming too,” they told her in unison. Mrs Weasley looked like she wanted to protest, but merely sighed irritably, opening the door and ushering them out. Arguing with the twins would prove useless and time-wasting.

Harry was relieved to be out of the hustle and bustle of the house. It was a warm morning, and Sirius was obviously thrilled to be free for the first time in months, as he pranced around, chasing birds and the occasional cat as they walked, barking happily. Harry grinned and laughed when he did something particularly stupid, such as getting himself scratched by an irritable cat, which Fred pointed out was a lot like Harry. Mrs Weasley merely tutted to herself, obviously not happy with Sirius being out when he was a wanted criminal.

They met Tonks at the end of the road and walked to the station together. It took them around twenty minutes to get there walking, and those twenty minutes were uneventful, other than Fred and George spelling Remus' clothes and hair. When they were done, he looked so camp Harry nearly burst out laughing.

When they got to the station, Harry was desperate to get away from the evil twins and Remus, because he was having a hard time with his giggles, and Remus was sending him strange looks.

They stood nonchalantly beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten, looking around until they were sure no-one noticed them. Then, one by one, they slipped through the barrier with their luggage, coming out on the other side.

When Harry emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, he felt his heart soar. The familiarity; the people scrambling to get on the train, the Hogwart's Express emitting high pitched whistles and the smell of smoke made him smile happily. Even the people who stopped to stare at his uncovered cat ears and tail couldn't dampen his spirit.

He was going home.

Mrs Weasley made them wait on the platform instead of heading for the train after she'd removed the glamour they decided to use on Harry's ears and tail, to stop any Muggles noticing them. Whether or not Mrs Weasley removed it, it would fade soon, anyway.

Sirius made a spectacle of himself, scaring the cats and birds in various cages students toted around. Mrs Weasley was constantly hissing at him to stop drawing attention.

“Hey guys,” a tall, dreadlocked boy called out, making his way over. The twins grinned and moved forward.

“Lee!” they called out, patting Lee Jordan's back when he reached them. Lee grinned at them, nodding at Harry.

“Nice dog,” he said. Harry grinned, embarrassed on behalf of Sirius. The twins began talking to Lee about his summer and their summer, and the items they'd already thought up and made for their new joke shop. Harry tried to ignore the stare Lee was giving his ears.

“Oi, mate. Shouldn't stare at the ears, he'll rip out your throat and eat it,” Fred told Lee, grinning at Harry, who scowled back at him. Lee laughed, clapping Harry's shoulder.

“Sorry about staring, it's just weird. Saw them in the Prophet when the picture came out, of course, but actually seeing them...” Lee trailed off, fascinated. Harry rolled his eyes, knowing he'd have to get used to this behaviour. “How'd it happen?”

All their faces darkened at the memory, and Lee held up his hands, backing away a little bit. “Forget I asked.”

At this moment, the second group from Grimmauld, including Mad-Eye, Mr Weasley, Remus, Hermione, Ron and Ginny came through the barrier.

“No problems?” Mrs Weasley asked quietly. Mad-Eye shook his head, a cap pulled low over his eyes to hide how mismatched they looked.

“Everything's all right. We weren't followed,” Mad-Eye said gruffly, “I'll be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore. That's the second time he's not turned up in a week. Unreliable as Mundungus these days.”

While the group talked, Remus came over to Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry turned to him, smiling.

“Gosh, how this summer has flown,” Remus said, drawing Harry in for a brief hug. Harry grinned in agreement, patting Remus' back, but frowning when Remus pushed a book-sized package in to his hands.

“From Sirius,” Remus told him quietly, with a conspiratorial wink. “He couldn't find the time to give it to you lately, what with Molly breathing down his neck.” Harry laughed and bent down to hug Sirius around the neck in goodbye. Sirius bit his ear in return, causing Harry to cry out and stand up, rubbing his ear.

Sirius gave him a doe-eyed look, butting his hand in apology. Remus rolled his eyes, smiling slightly, and Harry returned the smile.

“Good luck this year, and please, keep out of trouble. There's too much of a risk of Voldemort trying something,” Remus told him, worry in his eyes.

“Don't worry, I'm not stupid,” Harry told him reassuringly, before walking over to where Mrs Weasley was beckoning him into a bone-breaking hug.

“Have a good year, and be safe, and don't do anything stupid!” Mrs Weasley told him, hugging him again and then stepping back to wipe her face. Fred and George clapped hands on Harry's shoulders, murmuring about emotional women, and steering him towards the train.

“Wonder who'll be guarding you this year?” Fred mused as they stepped onto the train. Harry swivelled to stare at him incredulously.

“I'm going to be guarded?!”

XxXxXxX

Ron and Hermione split up with them when they found a compartment. The two had been made prefects, much to Fred and George's delight (“Our ickle Ronnikins! A prefect!” “Oh, Forge, I'm so proud!”) and had to go to their meeting, leaving Fred and George alone with Harry.

As soon as George sat down, he grabbed Harry and pulled the boy into his lap, wrapping his arms tight around Harry, as if to make sure he couldn’t escape, even though he had no wish to. Fred moved in front of them, between Harry's legs, and immediately latched his mouth to Harry's, who kissed back instantly, glad that the blind for the window set in the door to the compartment was down, covering it.

Suddenly, Fred pulled back, looking at Harry in concern. “This is all right, right?” he asked. They’d both been a bit edgy since accidently driving Harry mad with lust. Harry pulled Fred back for another kiss, smiling happily into it.

“It's fine,” Harry whispered against Fred's lips. Fred grinned and pushed some of Harry's unruly hair out of his eyes.

“You sure?” he asked. George was still behind Harry, clearly waiting for the answer too. Harry nodded.

“Yeah, ‘course. I’m not some bloody pansy.” Fred laughed and pressed his mouth against Harry's again.

George's hands wandered up Harry's shirt, finding his nipples- which had hardened from arousal when Fred had begun to kiss him- and pinching them through the fabric of his t-shirt. Harry moaned into Fred's mouth, and the redhead in front of him chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, seeking his cat ears.

Suddenly, the door slid open, causing Fred to look up from kissing Harry (not even removing his lips), and George to remove his hands. There in the doorway stood Lee Jordan, an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his lips.

“Well, this sure looks like fun,” he said. Fred rolled his eyes.

“Fun you interrupted,” he told his friend, moving to sit beside George, who was still holding Harry on his lap, and refusing to let go. Lee sat down opposite them and laughed as he watched Harry struggle half-heartedly, before eventually giving up and making himself comfortable between George's legs, back pressed to his boyfriend’s chest.

“Can't say I expected this,” Lee finally said, to break the awkward silence that had fallen over the compartment. Fred and George relaxed slightly – the silence had been getting to them too. “I mean, I already knew you two were involved,” he continued, gesturing to Fred and George. “Interesting that you got Harry involved. I suppose that the collar's yours?” he asked the twins, who smirked. Harry scowled at the reminder of the abomination on his neck. The abomination he had chosen not to have removed. What was wrong with him? “You might want to get your names on it or something.”

Harry shot a pleading look to Lee, wondering why the teen would betray him like that.

“You already knew?” George asked, surprised (and also taking into consideration Lee's suggestion). Although it would explain why Lee had acted a little strangely around them a few months before school ended, before he settled down and began to act normally.

“Yeah, walked in on you two. You're paying for my therapy,” Lee told them.

For the rest of the train ride, Lee pointedly avoided the topic of Harry and the twins. It was obvious it would take quite a lot of getting used to, but Harry could see that both Fred and George were thankful that Lee hadn't condemned them for something so strange.

“No! You didn't, mate! What were you thinking?!”

“It was just too easy, she was right there, bent over, wriggling and squirming...”

“But a real live spider? You have no way with women.”

“Like you can talk.”

Harry snuggled up to George, purring contentedly when the teen tightened his arms around Harry, hugging him close, and occasionally moving a hand up to scratch at Harry's ears.

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

XxXxXxX

“Weaselette.” Ginny jumped from where she'd been crouched outside the compartment housing the twins, Harry and Lee Jordan. She looked up, seeing Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle standing there, Malfoy wearing a rather perplexed expression.

“Malfoy,” she greeted curtly, standing up and brushing herself off. Malfoy raised a blond eyebrow.

“Spying on the scar-head? I see you haven't gotten over your pathetic little crush,” Malfoy said, lip curling in a sneer. Crabbe and Goyle snickered and Ginny narrowed her eyes.

“It wasn't pathetic!” she snapped, before stopping herself. Arguing with Malfoy would leave her with nothing but a bad taste in her mouth. Although... “And he's got himself new interests, anyway.”

Ginny wasn't sure why she was telling Malfoy this, coaxing the teen to listen to what she had to say. She just knew that anger and resentment burned within her, a thirst to get her brothers back for taking away Harry, who they knew she loved, and a fury at Harry for ignoring her, for being angry with her for her admittedly foolish stunt. She had to get Malfoy's attention, get him to help her to hurt them.

But would Malfoy hurt them too much?

“New interests?” Malfoy asked, definitely interested. Ginny smirked to herself, crossing her arms and attempting to look casual.

“Yeah. I know you'd love for some information on Harry. And I'd love to show them lot a lesson,” she added the last part under her breath, not really wanting Malfoy, of all people, to know how much of a personal interest she had in this. She shouldn't have even said it, and yet, she had to. To know what she wanted to do, and remind herself of why she was doing this.

However, Malfoy heard her, and a smirk spread across his face.

“So, the Weaselette isn't happy with Potter and his little lover. You know what they say: hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” Ginny glared at him and Malfoy just laughed.

“So, how about you and me go back to my compartment, and you tell me every last little thing you know.”

XxXxXxX

Hope you liked it, and thanks for all the reviews! I’m glad to see this story keeps getting new readers!