Pretty Kitty

“Why aren't you telling him?” George looked up from where he was scowling moodily at a rug adorning the floor of the Gryffindor common room. Lee Jordan stood over him, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“Why aren't you asking out that Loony bint?” George snapped back, knowing exactly what Lee was asking, but unwilling to answer. Lee shook his head, obviously willing to shake off the harsh retort. That was Lee; laid back.

“Seriously, how hard can it be?” Lee asked as he sat down on a chair next to George. George's eyes scanned the common room, only to rest on Harry, who was sitting at one of the tables and laughing with Ron about something. Ron was looking distinctly nervous for some reason, his laughter shaky and twitchy.

“Like you would understand, Mr Make-Love-Not-War,” George muttered, going back to glaring at the floor. Lee laughed at the words, used to the jokes on his hippy-nature.

“Look, I've been watching you dithering about Harry for ages now, and I think he's beginning to pick up on it, too. Fred, of course, is getting a laugh out of your pain, but I'm not that cruel. Just tell him; Fred-”

“Yeah, well, I'm not Fred,” George cut Lee off. Lee rolled his eyes, realising that comparing George's actions to Fred might not have been the best idea.

“Fine, I know, but-” George stood up and shot a vicious glare at Lee that quelled the boy. Lee watched with shock and a slight hint of fear as George turned and stormed away, right up to Harry. Harry looked up as George gently grabbed his arm and dragged him away to the staircase leading to the boys dormitories.

“Reckon he's got the balls to do it?” Fred asked, popping up. Lee laughed, watching a bewildered Harry being dragged away.

“Maybe, this time.”

XxXxXxX

“George, what's going on?” Harry asked as George lead him into the seventh year boy's room and shut the door behind them. George released his arm and paced the length of the room to sit on his bed. Harry hung back by the doorway.

For the past couple of days, Harry had noticed George's behaviour becoming stranger and stranger. There were often times when George would catch him on his own, start to say something with a serious look in his eye, and then stop and walk away, a faint flush on his cheeks.

When Harry questioned Fred, the young man had laughed and patted Harry's head, but didn't reply. Apparently, it was down to George to tell Harry.

This had lead to Harry panicking that George was trying to find the best way of breaking up with him; maybe the novelty of him being a cat boy had worn off, and George was realising just how insanely boring Harry was compared to the twins.

Harry bit his lip as George clenched his fists and stared off into the distance, eyes flitting to Harry whenever the boy shifted. Every nerve in Harry's body was standing on end, and he had the strangest urge to, again, escape to the highest spot he could find. However, ever since the debacle in Diagon Alley, Harry had taken to ignoring this urge. It only brought trouble.

“Harry,” George started, and Harry startled, the fur on his tail poufing out. He growled lightly and attempted to smooth the fur he could reach back down. George didn't say anything else.

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again, before shaking his head. Seeing the worried look on Harry’s face gave George a sudden burst of courage, and he opened his mouth to let forth what he'd been trying to get out all week.

“Harry-”

“It's all right,” Harry told him abruptly. George stared at him in confusion. Harry wasn't looking at him now, instead staring at a poster adorning the wall by Lee's bed, of the Holy Harpies. The seeker flew by, robes exposing a dangerous amount of cleavage. George remembered drawing chest hair on her, just to annoy Lee.

“It's all right... if you want to break it off,” Harry continued. George's eyebrows furrowed, taking in the state of Harry. His cat ears were pressed against his head and his tail was looking rather desolate. His body was tense and his jaw clenched and unclenched sporadically.

“Break... wait, what?” George asked, full of confusion. Break what off?

“If you don't want to see me anymore. I, er... I get it, you know. Not exactly sure what you saw in me in the fir-” Harry was cut off by George's lips pressing insistently against his own. George had quickly flown across the room to Harry when he saw exactly what he was getting at.

George broke off the kiss and pressed his lips to Harry's cheeks, his forehead, and down the delectable column of his neck. “You silly kitten-” Kiss. “-Break it off?” Kiss. “You're gorgeous, and adorable-” Kiss. “-And hilarious. Merlin, I love you!” George pressed a wet kiss to Harry's jaw, arms tight around his waist while Harry struggled against the unexpected attack.

“Love? You mean you're not-” George laughed, more out of disbelief than any real mirth, and rubbed his hand up and down Harry's clothed back. Harry instinctively arched into the touch, causing George to smirk.

“Why would I? Yee of little faith,” George said jokingly, kissing Harry's nose. “I couldn't even think of letting you go, ever. Merlin, don't ever think that! You terrified the living daylights out of me for a minute.”

Harry was silent during this, staring at George with wide, hopeful emerald green eyes. George smiled down at him softly, unable to resist kissing those tempting lips again. “I love you,” he whispered reverently. Harry's hands, which had hung, immobile, at his sides, slid up to clutch at George's robes.

“Me too. I mean, I love you too,” Harry corrected, voice shaky. George laughed breathlessly. “Merlin, I just can't believe you'd actually love m-” George cut off the insecure ramblings by kissing Harry again, only this time, he made sure to deepen the kiss, pressing his lips firmly to Harry's, who opened his nearly instantly.

George grinned and slid his tongue into Harry's mouth, tracing the roof of his mouth and causing Harry to squirm against him. George rubbed Harry's tongue with his own, coaxing it to reciprocate.

His hands slid down Harry's back and past his tail to cup his arse, just resting there, still for a moment, before he squeezed his cheeks, hard. Harry groaned into the kiss, sliding his arms around George's neck and aligning his body tightly against the redheads. George gasped at the feeling of Harry's rising erection pressing against his own through the layers of clothing.

“Mm, George,” Harry murmured, breaking off the sloppy kiss with a gasp. As George moved to attack his neck, nipping and sucking at a spot just above his collar, Harry's own hands slid down George's chest and stomach, to tentatively cup the teenager's erection. George groaned against Harry's neck, the vibrations making Harry squirm slightly.

In reciprocation, George lifted up Harry's robes from behind, just enough to slip a hand beneath, and into Harry's trousers. His other hand clutched his wand, and he murmured a couple of spells against Harry's skin. Harry frowned when he realised that George had just vanished his boxers.

The thought was stricken from his mind when he felt one of George's fingers rubbing over his entrance. Harry threw his head back, arms wrapping tightly around George's waist. George laughed slightly, licking a long, wet trail up Harry's neck and face. Harry gasped.

As George's mouth came in contact with Harry's cat ear, his finger entered Harry in one swift movement. Harry moaned at the dual sensations of George sucking his ear, and the burning from the sudden entrance.

George moved his finger slowly, pulling it out as much as he could within the confines of Harry's trousers, which he hadn't bothered to remove, and then shoving back in. Harry felt like his knees had just completely disappeared as the action caused George's finger to hit his prostrate.

“Ah, George!” Harry cried out, feeling George smirk around his ear. Harry's eyes narrowed at the frustrating calm and smugness. So, gathering all the awareness he could muster, he suddenly pulled away from George, biting his lip as George's finger was roughly yanked out of him, only to kneel at the teenager's feet.

George frowned down at him rather dazedly, wondering just what Harry was doing. Harry stared at him challengingly, before parting George's robes and pressing a kiss to George's covered erection. This would hopefully unravel that annoyingly unruffled composure.

However, Harry felt his fear begin to spike. He shook his head- he was a Gryffindor!

Harry hesitantly mouthed George's cock, which he felt twitch through the fabric of his trousers. George let out a gusty sigh, one hand moving to comb through Harry's black hair. Harry licked the material, unwilling to admit the pleasure he was feeling from this simple act; it made him feel dirty, in a wonderful way. He'd never felt like that before.

Harry's shaky hand rubbed at the bulge, before setting about undoing his trousers, pushing them down slightly. George had forgone underwear, it turned out.

Harry suddenly began to feel like his idea to get his revenge on George was possibly not planned out too well. He stared hesitantly at the large cock that stood naked before his very eyes. George was staring down at him, eyes hooded and filled with lust. That damn smirk was still in place.

Good idea or not, Harry would remove that smirk.

Harry stuck his tongue out and licked at the pre-cum that he spied leaking out of George's slit. George's hand in his hair tightened slightly, and Harry lapped at the liquid again.

“Merlin,” George almost whimpered. A smug feeling flared up in Harry's chest, and he closed his lips around the head of George's cock, tongue still lapping at it. George moaned softly, and when Harry looked up, he saw George staring down at him, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with a passionate fire. And no smirk.

However, when George saw Harry looking at him, he forcedly fixed the smirk back in place, having guessed the reason Harry had taken such a drastic action. If acting smug would keep Harry sucking on his cock like it was a tasty treat, George had no problem with that.

“You look so fucking sexy like that, going down on my dick. Such a good little kitty-cat, my good little kitten,” George murmured. The words penetrated Harry more than he wanted to admit, and he felt his erection twitch against the coarse fabric of his trousers.

Harry slowly took in another few inches of George's cock, tongue rubbing the pulsating flesh as he did. George groaned, hands tight in Harry's hair. Harry groaned when George tugged harshly by accident, and George grinned in delight, doing it again.

“Like that, Harry? Want me to treat you rough?” George tugged again, and in retaliation, Harry completely engulfed George's cock, wiping the grin right off George's face. The cock hit the back of Harry's throat and he swallowed convulsively, feeling himself begin to panic slightly.

“Relax. Just relax your throat muscles, there, that's it,” George coached through clenched teeth. Harry tried to do as George instructed, relaxing his throat as best he could and trying to ignore the gagging feeling.

“Good kitty-” George cut off as Harry slowly withdrew from his cock, and then sucked it back into his mouth, hollowing his cheek like he'd seen those women in Ron's and Seamus' porn magazines do.

“Merlin, that's so hot,” George gasped out, bucking his hips forward. Harry's nose was pressed against George's pubic hair, the musky scent of male arousal ensnaring his senses as George held him there for a moment, before moving back and into the tight heat of Harry's mouth again.

Harry fought with him every step of the way, trying to gain some semblance of control, despite desperately wanting George to just fuck his mouth, hard and fast.

He wondered briefly just what was wrong with him.

George slammed back into his mouth, and Harry sucked hard, causing George to choke out a moan. George was still clutching his hair, hands brushing up against his cat ears now and again. Harry's hands were on George's hips, steadying him from pushing in too hard. He wasn't sure just how much control George had over himself; if it were Harry, he'd be a mindless, rambling puddle of liquidised cat-boy.

“Touch yourself,” George ordered, managing to sound commanding while his voice was breathless. Harry obeyed without even thinking of it, if only because his cock was straining against his trousers, desperate for attention, and Harry had been too wrapped up in sucking off George to even think about it.

Harry's hand pressed against his erection through his trousers and he moaned, sending vibrations to George, who gasped. Harry quickly unzipped his trousers and slid his hand inside to cup himself. Just that small touch was nearly enough to send him over the edge. George, seeing what he was doing, desperately thrust into Harry's mouth.

“Ughn, that's it, touch yourself, bring yourself over to edge- let my cock in your mouth bring you over the edge,” George said, and Harry shivered at the husky, raw sound of his voice, doubling his efforts in sucking George as his hand moved up and down his own cock, breath coming out of his nose in short pants.

“Harry, kitten, gonna cum. I'm gonna cum in your sexy mouth and you're going to swallow it, right?” George confirmed. Harry raised his eyes to meet George's, unable to nod. This had long stopped being about trying to ruffle George. George grinned, before his fingers tightened in Harry's hair, pulling out a few strands by accident.

The rough pain made Harry's eyes well up, and brought him over the edge. As George's cock filled his mouth with white cream, his own dick jerked, spewing out cum as Harry milked it, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head. He remembered at the last minute to swallow the liquid filling his mouth, although some spilled from the corners of his mouth.

When George was finished, he slid his cock out of Harry's mouth, chest heaving with exertion. Harry was gasping as well, his hand still inside his trousers. George shakily knelt in front of Harry.

“That was amazing,” he murmured, before smiling at Harry. “Naughty kitten spilled some of his cream.” Harry blinked in surprise as George leant forward to lick the cum that was spilled from his mouth, and then pulled Harry's hand from his trousers.

Harry's breath caught as George held Harry's hand to his face and, painfully slowly, sucked one finger into his mouth and drew his lips upward, sucking off the cum.

George laughed softly at Harry's dazed expression, even though he wasn't faring much better, and leant forward to kiss Harry's forehead.

Lee chose that moment to walk in, before paling rapidly, turning around, and walking right back out, George's loud guffaws following him.

XxXxXxX

“What's that?” Fred asked childishly as he picked up Harry's hand to inspect the back of it. Harry's face drained of colour and he jerked his hand back.

“Grazed it, you know,” he squeaked out, before jabbing both thumbs in the direction of the entrance to the common room. “Well, I have detention, see you in a bit!” He made a quick escape, hearing Ron remind Fred that the twins should probably get to the Quidditch pitch for the try outs.

XxXxXxX

That evening, Harry tried to see the pitch from where he was sat in detention, but could only see small figures in red robes. He hoped Ron did all right, and that the twins didn't take the piss out of him too much. The wish was a lost cause, however. Of course the twins would cajole him to the best of their abilities.

Harry smiled fondly, before the sharp pain of Umbridge's torture device brought him back down to earth. Umbridge was sneering at him, obviously having caught his smile.

“Please keep your mind off your friend Mr Weasley, and back on your lines,” Umbridge told him primly. Harry mentally rolled his eyes, wondering if she'd stick him in detention for being gay.

He wouldn't put it past her.

When she let him out, he practically ran out of the room, desperate to get back to the common room and find out how Ron had got on. He didn't care about his bleeding, aching hand, or the headache forming behind his eyes from the pain.

However, half way to the common room, he halted as something fluttered before his eyes. He frowned, watching the paper that had grabbed his attention twist and turn in the air as it fell to the floor. When it was on the ground, he bent down and picked it up with his good hand, nearly dropping it when he saw what it was.

It was a moving photograph. He was sandwiched in the middle of Fred and George as the two shared a heady kiss over his shoulder. He remembered when they'd stopped him on the way to Transfiguration and dragged him into a hidden alcove.

Apparently not hidden enough.

Harry wanted to throw up as he realised exactly what this meant, and his eyes frantically darted around, trying to look for a sign as to who now held this information in the palm of their hand.

“Potter, Potter, Potter,” a condescending voice suddenly said, causing him to jump and swivel around, heart racing. There, leaning against the stone wall, was Malfoy. His grey eyes appraised Harry and he was smirking gleefully. Harry gulped audibly. There was no confusion, no doubting what Malfoy knew.

“M-Malfoy,” he stuttered, realising the implications of what had just been revealed to him. “Fuck no...” he denied desperately, voice cracking.

“Oh yes,” Malfoy drawled, standing up straight and walking towards Harry. Harry backed away, hissing at him. Malfoy merely chuckled, the sound causing the hair on the back of Harry's neck to stand on end. Harry whipped out his wand.

“Incendio!” Harry suddenly cried, pointing his wand at the picture, which burst into flames. He dropped it before his fingers got scorched. He glared at Malfoy defiantly, suddenly feeling a lot better. “There, see? What're you going to do?”

Malfoy's satisfied grin unnerved him.

“Oh, Potter, you're so predictable. Do you really think I'd give you the only copy?” Malfoy asked, voice filled with mirth, as he held up another photo, the same one he'd given Harry., “And there's many, many more where this came from.”

Harry grit his teeth, feeling cold dread coil in his gut. He was breaking out into a sweat, and Malfoy's cool facade wasn't helping.

“Wh-what? How did you know?” Harry asked desperately. He was so certain they'd hid it fine- maybe allowing Fred to act as George was a bad idea, surely there were people who could tell them apart without them having to be next to each other.

But they were all so confident. And now his worst enemy knew.

“A little birdie told me,” Malfoy said. He was having the time of his life with this, Harry could tell. “This isn't going to end well for you, is it, Potter? Or rather, you're the victim in this. Those Weasley's are seventeen, two whole years older, and soon to be eighteen. And taking advantage of a minor, and not just any minor. Harry Potter! While they're in an incestuous, illegal relationship.”

Harry choked out a sob as the weight of reality suddenly came crashing down on him. How could they even think that everything would be fine? Why hadn't any of them realised just how dangerous this was?

Why was it Malfoy who had to break the bad news?

“They could get sent to Azkaban- no, they will get sent to Azkaban, as soon as they turn eighteen. I have proof that they're involved in sexual activities with Harry Potter, after all. It's not just an innocent relationship, like you're trying to portray to the public.” Malfoy threw down another photo, which landed face up. Harry saw, with dread, that Fred had Harry pressed up against a wall in a bathroom cubicle, with his hand down Harry's trousers. Merlin, did Malfoy have cameras everywhere? “Forget Voldemort- the Daily Prophet would just love to get their hands on this.”

“M-Merlin,” Harry gasped out, feeling his knees give out. He sank to the floor, staring at the photo, devastated.

“But I'm not a cruel man,” Malfoy continued. Harry barely restrained the urge to laugh. “I can keep this to myself. For a price, of course.”

Harry looked up at Malfoy, fighting down the tears threatening to prick his eyes. “What?” he croaked out. Malfoy pretended to look contemplative, although Harry had the feeling he'd thought this out in vivid detail- Harry Potter, at his mercy. A dream come true.

“Nothing gives me more satisfaction than to see you miserable. Break up with those twins. And then we'll see about the rest.” Harry's horrified gasp rang loudly through the stone corridor.

Malfoy smirked and turned around, beginning to walk down the corridor.

“Wait!” Harry called. Malfoy sighed in exasperation and turned back, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Does anyone else know?”

“Just little Ginny Weasley.” Harry's mouth fell open at the implications. Malfoy laughed. “Oh, I wouldn't be too harsh on her. She's just a tool. A worthless, lovestruck tool. It was so much fun to manipulate her.”

Malfoy waggled his fingers at Harry, turned again, and walked down the corridor, disappearing around a corner. Harry didn't call him back.


XxXxXxX

... I don't know where any of this came from. This is just one random splurge of words that my fingers forced me to write- That sex scene with a very submissive Harry sprung from nowhere, and Malfoy refused to get shoved out of the picture.

To those who actually want to see a Fred/George/Harry scene for once, I will write one, soon. Eventually. They'll probably be fully clothed (I just seriously can't stop writing them with clothes on...).

Hahaha ;;rubs hands evilly;;. So, will idiot!Harry be able to continue his vicious reign?

Thanks to all my reviewers, as always. I love you all, whether you praise me or kick my arse :P

Edited 01/11