Meow

A/N: Written for thrnbrooke on Livejournal. You are the absolute best H/D reviewer on the planet! When I first started writing and worried if anyone would even comment, I always knew you were there to give a spot of encouragement. Thank you so much!

Also, many thanks to a wonderful beta, keppiehed. You are amazing!

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“I don’t know how you do it, Tom,” Aberforth said as he put down his drink.

He would pay a friendly visit to his competition about every few months or so. It got lonely being the owner and barkeep of a wizarding drinking establishment and even Aberforth would get tired of talking to his goats. They were fascinating creatures, but not much for conversation.

“You charge about half as much as I do for your rooms, and you still manage to stay in business. How’s that?” Aberforth asked as he leaned in for an answer. He watched Tom clean another glass and then hang it in mid-air with magic. Tom said he’d seen it at a Muggle bar in London and decided to do the same.

“I approached the Ministry a few months ago with the idea that in exchange for a set number of rooms per month for Ministry officials who worked late and had to stay in town, they’d compensate me with a stipend. So far it’s worked pretty well. The Ministry’s happy because their people don’t grumble about having to find a room or pay for it, and I get a steady business. In fact, it’s working so well that I’m thinking of reducing my hours at the bar and hiring some kid just out of school.”

The wind blew the door from Diagon Alley open, making a loud bang against the wall, and both men turned to see a hooded man enter the tavern. He was covered in an immaculate hooded cloak made from the finest cashmere. An intricate pattern woven around the garment shimmered in the candlelight indicating fine silver stitching. He started to turn toward the bar, but hesitated when Aberforth shifted on his stool and drew the man’s attention. Before he could say anything Tom called out to him.

“Your regular room is prepared, sir. Everything is as it should be.”

The man nodded and moved toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. When his footsteps could no longer be heard, Aberforth, who had been watching him go up the stairs, turned back to Tom.

“Now, you can’t tell me that’s some Ministry employee. Why, the Minister of Magic himself don’t get paid enough for fine clothes like that! That cloak alone must have cost over a thousand Galleons. What department does he work for?” Aberforth motioned with his head towards the stairs. His cheeks were starting to turn pink and match the reddish color of his nose. Without thinking, Tom took the bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey Aberforth’d been drinking from and put it back under the bar. He decided that Aberforth had had enough for the night.

“Him? Oh, that’s one of the rich blokes who come in at the end of the month. They work late settling business affairs and such with them goblins over at Gringotts. That one’s got a running tab here. He don’t ask for much, ‘cept privacy.” Tom didn’t look up when he was talking. It was late in the evening, and he was waving his wand, setting the usual spells to clean the place for the night.

“I’m sure its all very interesting, but ‘taint interesting to me. Well, I best be going if I want to get through the Floo without being sick. I suspect you’ve got to finish up for the night and I’ve got me goats to feed,” Aberforth swung off the stool and walked towards the large fireplace.

“Good night, Tom,” he said as he waved back to his old friend. There was a burst of green flame and Tom was alone in the bar for the night. Most of his nightly work was finished. He just had to do a check on the clients upstairs to see if there were any last minute needs before calling it a night.

# # #

“Honestly, Ginny, Marcion is leaning on me about getting these cases archived.

I’ve just got into the tavern room about half hour ago, and I’m exhausted. I’d love nothing more than to be home with you and the kids, but I’ve gotta be back at work early in the morning to give my testimony. I’m hoping to be home tomorrow evening. If not tomorrow, then Thursday at the latest.” Harry was on his knees, his head in the fireplace as he talked to his wife back home. In the background, he could see James chasing Albus into the kitchen.

He wasn’t lying—mostly. It had been a long day and he was tired, but Marcion had felt bad about keeping him late and said they wouldn’t have to meet until after ten o’clock the next morning. Still, though, a night away from the family wasn’t so bad. It gave Harry a chance to relax and pursue other interests. Something he’d indulge in towards the end of the month.

“I know you’re swamped, but the kids miss you,” Ginny remarked. She turned and yelled at James to stop chasing his brother before she looked back to Harry. He could see that she was frazzled, and for a moment, he felt guilty about being away.

“Well, have a good night’s sleep and get your rest,” she said. Just then a loud crash could be heard from the kitchen and a small child began crying. “I gotta go, Harry. We’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she said as she started to get up and leave. His last farewells were shouted to her as he could hear her soothing somebody’s sobs—most likely James had been fighting with Albus again.

He closed the Floo for the night and shook the last bit of ash and Floo powder out of his hair. He started to get up when he heard the water in the bathroom stop. A few more noises were coming out of the bathroom as he went to the small bar in the corner of the room. There was a large mirror against the wall over the bar area. From its reflection you could see the whole room.

Harry was pouring a couple of tumblers of brandy when the bathroom door opened. He looked up at the mirror and saw Draco coming out of the bath with a hotel towel wrapped low around his hips. His body still glistened in the candlelight where the remaining drops of moisture clung to his skin. Harry took in a sharp breath of air at the sight. Draco was a gorgeous man, whether he was in tailor-made clothing or just a cheap, cotton towel. The worst part was that the git knew he looked good.

They had been meeting on and off for over a year now. The end of each month was when Gringotts wanted to go over financial decisions with its bigger clients and when the Auror department closed cases that had been settled that month or that had met their statutes of limitations. It had started as two men alone—late evenings at the bar—making idle conversation. Slowly the stakes rose, and within a few months they were meeting in one of the rooms instead. Now there was a code between them: a simple nod to indicate tonight was a good night to get together.

It wasn’t love, but more of a way to appease their bisexual natures. At least that’s what Harry kept telling himself.

“So, what’ll it be tonight?” Harry asked as he handed a tumbler to Draco, who had thrown the towel onto one of the chairs in the room. Draco was lounging on the sole bed, the pillows propping up his back. Harry was always amazed that Draco never seemed embarrassed or shy about being nude. It was something he never felt comfortable with even though he was told numerous times by his wife that he looked good for a man approaching thirty.

Harry felt Draco’s eyes on him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Draco took a couple of sips of the brandy; he seemed lost in thought, and it was a moment before he spoke. “Well, last month, I indulged you by playing the victim in your little werewolf fantasy. Do you remember?” Draco said as his eyes narrowed.

Harry nodded. He knew that Draco had a fear of werewolves, but he’d practically begged and had made all sorts of promises if he were indulged. Draco had acquiesced, and in the end it had been mind-blowing. Now, though, it was Draco’s turn to decide the evening’s diversion, and Harry was starting to fear what he was going to be asked to do.

“I want to try something different tonight,” Draco said as he took a sip of brandy and waved his wand towards his attaché case.

Harry watched as the case floated into the air and landed on the table. It opened and something small levitated out of it. It looked like cloth and made a small sound like a tiny bell. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched Draco’s wand movement change and the object enlarged to hang directly in front of him.

Then when he looked at it—really looked at it—part of him thought about pulling out his own wand and banishing it. Of course, another part of him felt his cock begin to harden as the images of play began to float through his head.

“You have got to be kidding me. You expect me to wear that?” Harry scoffed. He suspected where this was heading, but he didn’t want to concede defeat yet. Looking the costume over, he agreed it had a certain allure.

A tiger-patterned corset, with laces in the front and a satin, ruffled skirt were the main attraction. He could see garters hanging underneath with black fishnet stockings attached. Hovering above the outfit was a collar with silver bells and a headband with kitten ears attached. Even with all that, though, Harry still found his eyes being drawn back again and again to the black and tawny striped tail, which swung back and forth at random. It reminded him of his lazy Kneazle back home.

Draco must really want this if he applied magic to make that happen, he thought, and for a moment, he imagined himself dressed in this as he fucked Draco hard. Draco’s head would be down, with his ass in the air. He’d claw into the sheets, crying out like a cat in heat. Harry would be behind him, thrusting into the blond in full feline garb as the tail swished back and forth. Harry could almost reach out and touch the image, it seemed so real to him.

“Where are the spiked heels?” He asked and then felt his face flush at the question. If had want to put up any objection at having to wear this it was lost the moment he asked the question. When he looked over at Draco, the gleam in the grey eyes confirmed that the opportunity was lost.

“I didn’t forget them,” Draco said as he waved his wand a few times and a pair of black spiked heels came out of the attaché case. “I wanted to see what you were willing to do, Potter. That’s all.

Now be a good little girl and go put them on.” Draco picked up the tumbler of brandy and relaxed into the pillows. Harry rolled his eyes at the word ‘girl’.

“Fine, but I’ll need to bathe first,” Harry said as he grabbed the garment in mid-air and walked to the bathroom. He took a couple of steps into the en suite when he heard Draco call out, “Don’t forget to shave!” And before he closed the door, Harry reached his hand out and gave Draco a two-fingered sign.

It was almost an hour before Harry came out of the bathroom clean, dressed, and a bit wobbly on the heels. He didn’t know if the outfit looked sexy on him, but he was willing to give it a go. When he looked for Draco to see his reaction, he found the other man in the same position he was in earlier, fast asleep. The tumbler of brandy was empty and laying on the bed next to him.

Without making a sound, Harry slipped out of the uncomfortable shoes and began to crawl on the bed and over the blond. The tail, which was still moving, came up and curled itself lazily along Draco’s thigh. The soft caress gently woke the blond, and his eyelashes fluttered before they opened. By that time, Harry had crawled over and was straddling him as he looked down at the sleepy blond.

“Meow,” Harry purred. The satin thong made Harry erect, and he ground his hard cock into the other man’s groin causing Draco to groan at the contact.

A lazy smile spread across Draco’s face. He reached up to card his fingers through Harry’s mangled locks. With the other hand, he caressed Harry’s thighs over the fishnet stockings. He took one of the garter belts and snapped it against the pale thigh. He laughed when Harry whimpered. Harry always did like a little pain with his pleasure.

“What a lovely puss you make, Harry.”

Harry growled, “Do you have any milk for me?” He leaned down and began to lick at Draco’s earlobe, working his way down his neck, kissing and nibbling his way further down.

“No, but I think I have some cream for you,” Draco gasped as his hips thrusted up into Harry’s body to make his point. “Fuck, Potter! I don’t know if I want to make you do a strip tease and then bend you over the table or just rip that thong off and have you ride my cock.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at how quickly Draco came undone. If it weren’t completely ruined by morning, they’d have to use this outfit again. “Well, the night’s still young. Can’t we do both?” he purred. He reached down and caressed Draco’s erection. Very gently, he ran his nails along his cock, drawing a hiss out of the blond.

If Draco wanted a kitty, he was going to get one… claws and all.

# # #

“Hmm, that was wonderful, Draco,” Harry yawned as he cuddled up against his lover. He rubbed his torn stockings against Draco’s leg and they both snickered at the sensation. This was definitely something they would have entertain again.

“Mmm,” Draco replied as he wrapped his arm around Harry and started to lower his eyes. He absently ran his fingers through the messy black locks. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a flicker of silvery light coming from the mirror behind the bar. He opened his eyes and looked about the room for its reflective counterpart. Then he shook his head and lowered it back down onto the pillow. A few candles were burning low, but nothing as bright as what he thought he saw.

“Goodnight, Harry. Nox” he called out to the room. The remaining candle flames were extinguished as their breathing grew slower and heavier.

# # #

Tom let out the breath he was holding.

That was a close one, he thought as he took the silvery cloud of memory, which was held to the tip of his wand and placed it into the waiting vial in his hand. He pushed the cork in, and then waved his wand, creating an identical vial with the silvery substance. He waved his wand again, and cast the two-way mirror to become a solid wall. He didn’t want to be caught by the sleeping gentlemen in the room next door when he opened the door and let in the light from the hallway.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told Aberforth that he gave the Ministry of Magic a reduced rate for officials who had to work late. It was a cover story for the large sum he received from the Ministry of Magic every month to keep the secrets of their top officials. In exchange for his memories of certain employees’ rather dubious overnight lodgings—most of them extramarital affairs—the Ministry paid Tom to keep silent. He suspected that they destroyed the memories when they arrived. Shame, really as some of them were sensational beyond belief.

Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy were two of the most powerful up and coming men in wizarding England who happened to occasionally bugger each other senseless, Tom thought. Their overnight stays were always worth staying to watch. As he descended the stairway, Tom made a mental note that in the morning he’d have to go back and clean the come he’d left on the back of the mirror.

He went over to where his owl, Helga, sat waiting for him and tied one of the vials to her leg with a note for the Minster of Magic himself. Then, carefully, he walked back to the storeroom behind the bar and located the hidden area where the second vial was stored with all the others.

It doesn’t hurt to have a little extra insurance, Tom thought as he put his cloak on to make his way home.

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A/N2: A picture of the outfit can be seen here. http://www.mrcostumes.com/images/pz/2688/plus-size-sexy-bonjour-kitty-cat-costume-6414X.jpg