Title: Kitty Kisses (Part 1 of 2)
Summary: Will Draco’s new friend bring him the love of his life?
Warnings (if any): Suggestion, Character Death (not Harry or Draco), Torture
Total word count: 10,205 words
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: Huge thank you to my betas, for their brilliant support and the amazing job they did in making this fic the best it could be. Thank you for the lovely feedback ladies, the fic is for you as well as for charmed310, I hope you like this.
Beta(s): khateh, cyn_ful
Down a rarely used corridor at The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a small furry figure was stomping toward an unknown destination. The small feline seemed even tinier in comparison to the stone hallway it was traveling in search of a calm, collected demeanor.
Because let it be known that this kit was fed up, absolutely up to his whiskers from all the shit he had to endure. Sure, his coat was shiny and oh so soft, but did that really mean he would like to be cuddled and choked by all those grubby hands? No, it most certainly did not. And if one more moron even attempted to bend for a pat he was going to puke on their shoes.
Eyes eerily visible in the gloom, the kitten was nearly spitting with indignation, fur bristled all along his back as his paws did their best to convey his near temper tantrum state. Tail twitching in annoyance the small ball of furry fury stopped and dropped on his rear to begin cleaning his pelt, since that always helped to calm him.
Not to be, apparently, as out of thin air a voice purred too close to his sensitive ears “Hello there, little kit,” making him swivel his head to be confronted with gleaming yellow eyes. “Are you lost perhaps?” and was that hopefulness in the purr? Mrs. Norris, great, just fucking peachy; the cat also known as master tormentor of helpless young creatures without a master. Humph. Well, he certainly wasn’t helpless; however there certainly seemed no point in getting his ears scratched just to prove that. So he took the best course of action, cowered as if stupid Filch was reaching for him, making the bitch turn hopefully and then ran as fast as he could down the darkened hall. The impression of steps behind him made him pump his little legs all the harder and plunge through a convenient gap under a door that allowed a sliver of light to be seen by frantic kitty eyes.
Ha, take that you great big ugly brute, I’m sure you can’t squeeze through there, and I’d so enjoy scratching your stupid mug if you did try. Little heart still doing double time and adrenaline still making kitty instincts higher than normal, the small pink nose twitched. Several smells assaulted his nose and some of them were revolting. The stench of Dark magic was enough to make him sneeze, which he did, repeatedly. In turn it certainly blew his cover, as a hex flew his way that he barely had time to duck from. When he lifted his paws from his face it was to see amused grey eyes close to his own and a lowered wand. He noticed the tears. Fresh ones, as well as the tear tracks confirming his guess that this human was hurting. Cautiously sniffing the blond human it was decided the stench did not come from there so he padded cautiously toward the black boots then mewed to be picked up. Warm, careful, long fingers picked him up and brought him close to a warm chest. From his vantage point, he decided the stench came from one of the corners of the room but decided this human needed him more now. He would inspect the smell later.
Turning and pressing his tiny paws, he began to knead the chest as he looked into eyes that were clouding over again. He began a steady chatter made up of mews and purrs. This made his whiskers twitch repeatedly as the human laughed at his antics. To try to distract him he battled at the sad face with claws carefully retracted. It seemed to work, because the human released a happy breath and the eyes seemed to clear to an icy blue-grey. The human began to pet him, but gently, not pressing his fur like there was no tomorrow while speaking in a hushed voice that seemed to make him sleepy, causing his claws to dig in and a steady low purr of contentment to rumble in his chest.
However, that disgusting smell was now closer, along with a scrape of nails on the floor jolted the kit wide awake. Ears moved to pinpoint the sound and then flattened as a small growl escaped the now angry kitten. Twisting in the hands that held him, he jumped gracefully onto the floor and stared right in the seemingly startled mug of a truly ugly rat. The rest was lost in a series of frightened squeaks and the commotion made by a chase that doomed the rat from the start. It never stood a chance; the instinct to eat or just kill was powerful in the kit and it simply overrode any other consideration.
The remains of what had been a rather fat, albeit scarred and twisted rat were mere tatters after a few minutes of rough play, and the kit finally unhooked claws and opened his mouth to release the prize at the human's feet. Silence dwelled in the bathroom for all of three seconds before the sound of disgusted, spluttering, surprised laughter was heard. The kitten looked up and wondered what was wrong with the present. He bent his head to examine it. In truth he could understand what was wrong. It was ugly, smelly, missing a toe and not all that brilliant, but still courtesy said that the least you could do is say thank you before throwing it away.
He sniffed and turned his tail on the carcass while approaching his human. His because really once you get them a present they should know well and good that you see them as property. Apparently this one understood, as he was picked up and cradled and petted and almost sent into a doze until there was an almighty sniff followed by his fur crackling with magic. It would seem that there were still things this one needed to learn, so he pushed himself on his hind legs in the embrace and started meowing his opinion on the matter while gently battling in succession nose, loose strands of hair and wand stinking of Scourgify.
Gentle laughter met his explanation and he was going to huff until a God awful screeching began and he was forced to curl into his human’s embrace and flatten his ears to block it out. The laughter increased in volume and once the horrible squealing stopped he was being introduced to “Myrtle.” Green eyes narrowed and with a vicious twist he faced the thing. He hissed for all he was worth. But annoyingly the monstrosity did not shrink back in fear but tried to pet him. Oh let it try, because it was so going to get it. Just a bit nearer . . .
Suddenly the floor got far away and they were moving, making his claws grab on to the black cloth around his tummy so as not to fall. Well, at least his human was having fun, silently shaking with laughter and bidding goodbye to the monster wailer. He just dug his claws a bit deeper and settled in for the ride.
Sometime later he was being placed on something even softer and he rolled on his back sleepily, fully expecting a tummy rub for his trouble. When it became clear that none was forthcoming he rolled to the side and observed his human with narrowed eyes that opened wider the more he looked. Taller than average, his human had longish blond hair, and rather pointy features, the kind that would remind you of those snobby Siamese rather than a rodent. He seemed slightly underfed but the skin was acceptable, pale and nicely firm over some muscle at least. For now it would do, but next dinner time rolled around he would make sure he eats enough . . . hmm, how should he call . . . one short peak and yes, it was a him, because calling him human was not really specific. Observing his human, he began adding characteristics to the possible description, fussy with his clothes – all went into the hamper, folded even, careful with his wand – always close to hand, a prude – that towel was around his hips before the pants dropped and . . . the kit nodded in confirmation: brushes his hair before a shower. Well, he resembled royalty with the glowing hair and flawless manners, his fastidious care made him only add to the image and there was really nothing for it: Prince it would be.
‘Well, your Highness ,’ the small feline thought amused as he was picked up and brought close to a smooth naked chest, ‘I will come with you, to protect you as you shower but wet me and you’ll be sorry.’
Minutes later, shower over, the kitten was still shaking his tiny paws and growling softly and the royal pain in the arse was still laughing and unfortunately for him, still smarting from a few well placed scratches.
“Oh come on mister, it wasn’t intentional.” Draco chuckled at the disbelieving look he got for that, “alright it was, but considering the mess you made of that rat . . . “
Draco Malfoy was a lot of things but stupid wasn’t one of them. It was perfectly clear that at the very end of the bed curled on the pillows like a sultan sat a very irked kitten. The twitching tail was a dead giveaway but so were the rumbling growls underneath those flattened ears.
Leaning against one of the four posters of the bed, Draco paused to observe his new friend. What had seemed like dark, almost black fur was actually grey. In fact it was a shade of grey that was almost blue in the light from the candles, making the little feline look almost ethereal. He was beautiful, Draco mused before chuckling as he remembered how the kit had hissed and scrambled indignantly from his grasp when he’d checked that it was indeed a he, which was probably part of the reason for his irritation now. The cataloguing of characteristics suddenly reminded him of something his Mother had given him over the summer holidays.
Pushing away from the poster Draco moved to open his trunk to look for a certain book while thinking back to his birthday.
Draco had been reading in bed a soft knock on the door was heard and after a pause Narcissa Malfoy stepped into the room with one neatly wrapped parcel in one hand and a carefully serene smile on her face. Draco sat up in bed while marking his place and placing the book he had been reading on the nightstand, curious about the parcel and worried about the look. What followed was one of the strangest conversations he and his Mother had ever shared.
“Hello, Dragon. How are you?” Narcissa murmured as she brushed a stray hair from her son’s face.
“I am fine,” Draco said slowly then “Mother, is that another present?” he asked, surprised but also pleased.
She looked down at the package in her hand before offering it to her son. “Yes, it is. Open it,” she urged adding a gentle “go on” when he hesitated.
Draco un-wrapped it with the swift, precise movements of someone well used to receiving gifts but still delighted every time he got a new one. Once the wrapping was removed Draco set eyes on with a book on cats.
He lifted his eyes to look at his mother with a half amused, half curious look. Narcissa wasn’t smiling; instead she had a determined look about her face as well as a twinkle in her eye that boded ill for whoever had inspired it.
“I thought perhaps it was time you were allowed a pet. Since cats seem have been your favorite ever since you were a child, you can choose one. The book is for you to make a choice based on knowing the specific personality, physical characteristics of each breed.”
While what his mum had said was true--he did like cats best--it still baffled him that he was allowed one now of all times. Then again, perhaps now was the best time after all since a cat would keep his secrets and provide the companionship he would need at present, for what was coming. He had breezed though the book then with real enjoyment, flipping through it now he couldn’t help the happy grin from spreading on his face, probably his first honest one in this school year. He had been looking for a pet but until now none could have been capable of putting a grin on his face like his new found friend had done.
None of the cats he had seen had met the Malfoy standard of what a cat should be. This little fellow was perfect and what was left was to find out his breed. Some cats need special food or a specific grooming regimen and Draco wanted to make sure he was healthy and safe.
Flopping on his front at the foot of the bed Draco flipped to a likely photo and happy grey eyes looked up over the book to the kitten now watching him curiously, annoyance forgotten in the face of his no doubt weird behavior.
Draco shifted on his elbows until the picture was visible for the kitten who approached slowly, tiny paws sinking in the soft comforter. Predictably his kitten tried to bat at the cat in the picture. Draco just chucked as he observed his very purebred friend, a Russian Blue apparently, make a fool of himself in front of a picture-cat who couldn’t care less about small fuzzballs full of personality.
Quickly conjuring a feather Draco angled it under the focused kitten’s chin and swept it up until it tickled his nose.
He laughed aloud as it made the kitten look cross-eyed to focus on it then as he swat at it so hard that when he missed he fell on his flank. The kitten made several more attempts, each one more forceful than the next until he finally managed to fall on his chin so that the only things visible were his ears and his rump with his twitching tail on top.
Not long after the kitten was simply too tired to move, let alone swat at anything so Draco deemed him safe to be picked up and together they settled under the covers. Draco petted him soothingly from top of the delicate head to the tip of the tail as he kept the small body nestled close to his chest, waiting until the small heart stopped pounding so hard against his skin.
As the kit began to purr, Draco relaxed back, casting his mind to try and find a suitable name for him. Thinking about all he knew about him, which wasn’t much, eventually brought him back to the Second Floor disused bathroom. A bathroom where he had seemed to return more often these days and that he only associated with despair. Until now, because the kit in his arms had managed to change that with one small sneeze, a dead rat, and by hissing at annoying Myrtle. The rat had been particularly gruesome, and thinking about it, it did seem as the appropriate name for such a fierce little thing, after all, it was virtually harmless to everything else: Kilmousky it would be, in deference to his Russian heritage and his destroying that rat.
Draco realized he was drifting when he couldn’t hear the purring anymore but instead hear Pansy’s gushing over the “pretty kitty.” No matter how smart and cunning his dear friend was, she went absolutely stupid when being confronted with small furry things, cats specifically. Interest, which was what had brought them together as friends when they were small, as Pansy had been allowed a pet. Her Kneazle had eventually run away, having decided it was one thing to be petted to within an inch of its life by two obsessed children but that it would not suffer the indignity of being dressed in frilly lace and green silken dresses. With his beautiful Kilmousky, it was a sure thing she was just about to wet herself at the cuteness. Draco wasn’t worried, though. The kitten had proven it had personality and was not timid about giving sharp handshakes to those who deserved them.
The same treatment was applicable to his other friends, although they would have different ideas about his small friend. Crabbe would discretely cringe, having a fear of clawed, small, furry animals since fourth year. Goyle would try to be supportive of his friends while trying to stifle his smirks. Blaise would be rolling on the floor when Pansy would get clawed and when Crabbe would stifle a whimper and cross his legs unconsciously. Then he would gently cajole Kilmousky with softly spoken words and careful, not too fast movements, and of course smirk triumphantly when Kilmousky would graciously allow himself to be petted.
Draco was brought back to consciousness when a soft paw touched his nose repeatedly, like pressing one of those Muggle buttons they had been shown in Muggle Studies. It was annoying in that it tickled, dammit, and well, his nose was not round and red, either. He opened his eyes to big very vivid green ones staring into his, so close that he realized he was being gifted with a kitty kiss, nose to nose as they were. But then the soft weight slipped from his chest and after a moment the sound of cloth ripping brought Draco to full wakefulness as he peered over the side of the bed. The kitten seemed almost sheepish as he struggled futilely to untangle his claws from the duvet he had used as an impromptu ladder. Draco sighed as he reached over and gently released the small claws from the restricting cloth.
Kilmousky meowed persuasively until Draco was forced to get up and follow him, then stop and stare as his intentions became obvious. He crossed his arms and refused to let the kitten out. But the now pitiful meowing and big round eyes finally broke his resolve. He Accioed his dressing robe and cast a hasty Lumos as he opened the door and the kitten slipped outside. Being a Prefect meant he would not get in trouble for being out after curfew, but where the kit thought it was going was as yet a mystery. Emerging from the dungeons, Kilmousky seemed to sense him behind and turned around and simply stared. Draco stared back until he began to feel ridiculous, locked in a staring contest with a cat. Then it dawned on him, Kilmousky was gently telling him to go back. The little ungrateful furball was waiting for him to leave, there in the Entrance Hall making him feel like he had just been stood up, which was ridiculous, but still. Draco decided he had no chance to win so bent and scooped up the kit just long enough to press a kiss to the wet nose. He turned around and walked away, hoping the kitten would follow but knew he wouldn’t. As he glanced back, his suspicions were confirmed. The kitten seemed to have vanished into thin air. Draco refused to sigh and instead walked back to his Prefect’s room, resolving to solve the puzzle that his Kilmousky was.
Huddled behind the side of the main staircase, a small furry figure waited until the soft retreating footsteps could be heard no more. The little ears stood to attention until he was positive the coast was clear then the shadow behind him began to lengthen as the small figure morphed into a young man. When the transformation was complete he sprinted up the stairs, not stopping until he reached Gryffindor Tower. Before the Fat Lady’s portrait he paused to regain his breath and then whispered the password ignoring the disapproving glare. Harry Potter breathed easily only when the curtains around his bed were pulled shut and fixed with the standard spells for privacy, Silencing Charm included. After collapsing back against the covers, he allowed the small bubble of near hysterical laughter to escape. When he recovered, it was to the stone cold sober realization that he was in deep trouble.
In the space of one evening’s romp around the castle, his entire perspective on several things had changed. His Animagus form might react to his environment in feline fashion but he had the added benefit of remembering everything. This past summer he would have gone insane if not for the full time occupation that learning to become an Animagus. Staying at Grimmauld Place as a kitten had also meant that the house had been his playground instead of the tomb it would have seemed to his human self. The Order at least was aware of his success when they were confronted with the mess he’d made of all the draperies, which had been only his first day.
Harry reckoned that getting away with that and many such delinquencies was what influenced his behavior as a cat, making him a real terror in this form. His cat-self was a Slytherin through and through, easily causing trouble whenever he was bored, as well as getting out of it without much fuss.
Harry turned on his front, conjuring a slip of parchment and quill. He began scribbling quickly, trying to keep up with all the random bits of information that kept popping in his head. Eventually he had compiled a list of the facts in order of importance. He was quite happy with his work as he looked over the finished list and the notes on the margin:
1. Peter’s missing more than a finger now (not that I’m sorry) - find out what he was doing in that bathroom
2. I bonded as a cat with Malfoy (but he was crying) – find out exactly what he was crying about
3. Malfoy is a cat person (who’d have thought?) – find out if I could more closely spy on Voldemort through Malfoy as his pet
4. Malfoy talks in his sleep (useful) – ha! Crabbe and Goyle are afraid of small furry things, good to know
5. Malfoy is hot (not that I was looking, nah) – find out where the scar on his forearm came from
Adding up the questions, there was only one person who he could ask without arousing suspicion – Severus Snape, mentor extraordinaire. The idea still boggled his mind but in a way it just figured the former-git would be a cat lover, which actually explained his huge dislike for Sirius and Remus. The summer had been quite revealing in this sense, as the moment Severus Snape set eyes on the furry whirlwind that was Harry’s cat-self, he seemed to melt toward the cat at least. It probably helped that he’d caught Harry as he was surveying the destruction he had caused to the Black house looking cute and fuzzy and very feline. Ever since, Severus had taken to teaching him, sometimes for hours at a time, about anything and everything. And when he figured out the cat was at least as smart as Potter, he had taken the time to inform Harry that he preferred talking to the cat.
The fact that the cat seemed to like Severus just as much was not surprising. The man spoiled him as well as being very gentle, in addressing the cat as in touching him. And he gave fantastic belly rubs! In turn the cat’s presence seemed to calm and somewhat mellow the acerbic man so much so that they sometimes fell asleep before the fire.
Harry just sighed and curled up to sleep, thinking he could always ask tomorrow. He rolled his scrap of parchment and laid it to the side of the bed. As was his usual, to avoid nightmares during the first half of the night, he transformed in his kitten self. Kilmousky, though, was amused. Severus wouldn’t mind a midnight visit. He picked up his parchment in his mouth, began the long journey to his friend’s abode. He traipsed into Slytherin territory and right at the Potions master’s quarters. He sat on his haunches and waited.
The man had created a ward, specifically designed to alert him if Harry as a cat was outside his rooms. Originally the ward was set up when Harry had still not mastered Occlumency and was having nightmares involving Voldemort. Harry had gotten better and now the wards were for scheduled meetings between them. Harry just hoped he would be too cute to be hexed for waking the man up now. The door opened, and two black eyes stared narrowly into mischievous green before Severus picked him up and slammed the door. Kilmousky just relaxed and hoped for a saucer of the man’s excellent frothed milk, as they would both need some for this discussion.
Severus took the rolled up scrap of soggy parchment and cast a Drying Charm on it with a moue of disgust. The cat was apparently amused by this as it gave what Severus could only surmise to be a kitty grin before wandering into his small kitchen. More than likely the kitten’s goal was his usual cup of warm milk that was the only thing that would ensure a restful sleep Amused now, too, Severus Summoned the cup and saucer of warm milk he had prepared just minutes before. He snorted as the cup came into view, kitten attached to the handle and mewing in protest.
Setting kitten and cup down on the coffee table, Severus poured some frothed milk on the saucer before relaxing with his cup and list on the couch. He scanned the list and almost spilled his milk at the first line.
“Cat, did you actually kill the rat?” Severus couldn’t help but ask. Kilmousky turned and just looked at him before offering another of those grins. Severus blinked then smirked. He glanced down at the question and cleared his throat, waiting until the kit had finished his milk before beginning his explanation.
“Pettigrew had been staying with me this summer, as per the Dark Lord’s instructions. Since I couldn’t abide the man and the Order needed me on the field, I convinced him to Polyjuice as me. Of course he knew that I could poison him anytime I wanted and get away with it, so he agreed to act as me to anyone who came looking for me. Sometime this summer, Mrs. Malfoy and Bella dropped by for a favour. Because of Lucius’ inability to bring that prophecy to the Dark Lord, his family was now in danger. As I understand it, Draco has some sort of mission to complete and Mrs. Malfoy wanted me to help. Pettigrew was tempted to tell them he wasn’t me, but Bella can be a terror when she wants to. He made the Unbreakable Vow that Mrs. Malfoy demanded but disguised he could only make it in my name. He told me about it but he would suffer the consequences should he not help young Malfoy. As such, he must have snuck in, but I have no idea how. Luckily, because of your intervention, there is a chance that Mr. Malfoy won’t be forced to complete his mission.” After delivering the rather long explanation Severus just cast an approving look at the kitten who was affecting nonchalance, grooming himself while his ears were alert. No doubt the little wheels were turning, considering the Malfoy situation.
Returning to the list, Severus considered the next point before answering the question. “It seems whatever the mission is, it seem to be impossible to complete. I know that Draco’s family is no longer in the Dark Lord’s graces. And Draco probably knows this, possibly directly from his Father’s master.” Glancing lower on the list he continued. “I agree with your idea Mr. Potter, it would be a good idea to become his pet. I have known young Mr. Malfoy and he would be an excellent pet owner, I know for a fact he loves cats. He would also be a good source of information, and since due to our lessons you are acquainted with this year’s curriculum you can afford the time away from your studies.”
Chuckling slightly at reading the next line, Severus choked on the last and stared at the kitten for a bit. Because there was no doubt about it, once an idea had formed in that feline head, the cat would follow through on it no matter what. Consequently, Severus decided it would be better just to trust Malfoy’s good taste and tackle the last question before retiring for the night.
“The scar you saw is more than a bit suspicious. Mr. Malfoy came to me the first day of school and asked for a potion to heal it, refusing to tell me what caused it. It is my suspicion that he was not deemed worthy of the Dark Mark, so he received a different kind, and I think it was a werewolf scratch, not enough to turn him, but enough to scare him.” Severus sighed as he continued to pet the kitten in long strokes, then stopped and stared at the kitten. The little blighter had snuck up on him when he was talking and he had unconsciously begun to pet him. Humph, perhaps he had sensed Severus’ disquiet but even more likely, it had wanted a warm touch before bed.
“Whatever you chose to do, inform Dumbledore of your intentions and think of what you want your friends to know as well. This way you will be in no danger while conducting your investigation.” The last was said against the coat of the cat, who purred warmly to his friend in thanks for all the help. Severus then gently placed the cat on the floor before bidding him goodnight as he himself retired for the night. The cat could leave if he wanted; the wards incorporated a kitty flap in the door for exiting his room only. He would probably choose to remain curled up in front of the fire as was his preference.
The next day, a small, fluffy, grey blue feline was waiting outside the Slytherin common room when Blaise Zabini came out on his way to breakfast. The pitiful mew attracted his attention and he noticed a small cat looking longingly at the now sealed entrance to their common room. Bending down, he reached for a pat on the small head only to have the whiskered rascal cough a hairball on his expensive Italian shoes. Startled awake by this and a bit nauseous, Blaise sat back on his heels and cast a “Scourgify” on them before considering a different approach. Five more minutes of gentle entreaty and the cat was rubbing his cheek on Blaise’s hand. It attracted some of the Slytherin First year girls who just couldn’t resist their combined cuteness. So when the kitten demanded to be let into the common room Blaise was only too happy to obey. Once in the common room though it jumped from Blaise’s hands and ran all the way to Draco’s prefect room.
The small fur ball scratched at the door, mewing pitifully at Blaise all the while. Blaise snorted before whispering the password and then closing the door after the kitten entered. He was going to have to convince his dear friend to loan him that babe magnet sometime, perhaps after breakfast.
In the room, the kitten made himself at home on the bed, his small back arched at the base of Prince’s throat, purring softly as he fell into a light doze. He snuggled even closer as he felt a warm hand curl protectively around him.
Five minutes later, the charm Draco used to wake up sounded and sleepy grey eyes stared at his newfound Kilmousky. Draco laughed when he was gently head butted before they burrowed again under the covers.
Because really if Kilmousky was not magical and may have been a cat that ran away he was now Draco’s because he came back to him. And magical or not, Draco still didn’t care, the company was appreciated and he would enjoy it for as long as possible. Truth be told, the kitten had already weaved a thread around Draco’s heart and spoilt child or not, he was keeping Kilmousky even if he had to Obliviate the former owner.
Following on the thought of the cat not really being a cat, a sudden thought struck him with how weirdly unconcerned he was with the idea. Perhaps because ever since he saw those eyes, a strand of memory had been tugging at him.
He had always been fascinated by green eyes, even as a child. The fact that Harry Potter had the greenest eyes Draco had ever seen was relevant. He had fixated on the boy to the point that from careful observation to discover any faults he had inevitably discovered the good parts too. Because obsess over something for enough time and it will eventually become reality. And he was almost certain now that it was quite possible that he was sharing a bed, right now, with the only boy he had wanted as a friend. Though, not quite entirely accurate, since Fifth year, he had wanted a bit more. Then again seeing Harry in the Quidditch showers would probably do that to anyone. A toned body with golden, silky smooth looking skin as well as a natural grace went a long way to forcing Draco to admit to pulling pigtails.
Grinning he slipped a hand beneath the covers and pulled a squirming kitten close to his chest before administering a belly rub guaranteed to make Kilmousky purr loudly. A few minutes of this and he had a contented ball of fluff in his arms that was almost asleep. Draco was considering a bit of a lie in before his stomach protested loudly, making him reconsider his plans. Twenty minutes later they were in the Great Hall, Draco fending of Blaise’s offers to kitty-sit as well as Pansy’s cooing reaches for the kitten as both he and Kilmousky ate.
Their breakfast was interrupted when the Headmaster announced that Peter Pettigrew, believed dead for the past sixteen years, had been found dead inside Hogwarts itself. Security measures were instated and the students were kindly asked to not venture outside their common rooms after sundown. That suited Draco just fine so he returned to his breakfast, just in time to see Kilmousky steal his bacon. He just smiled at him before the next announcement made the smile freeze on his face. Harry Potter had left Hogwarts in order to focus on preparing for his battle with Lord Voldemort. Draco blinked then narrowed his eyes and resumed eating, occasionally feeding more bacon to his own private Saviour, his Harry disguised as pure fluff.
In the following months the student body eventually got over the fact that Harry Potter was out of reach. Instead all the attention now focused on Draco Malfoy and his cute kitten. And it was so that Draco Malfoy basked in the spotlight by day and suffered sexual frustration by night. Draco mused that he had always known that together, he and Harry would have been the talk of Hogwarts. What he hadn’t considered through was what knowing he spent all his time with Potter would do to his libido. It was all great, pranking various students in the halls, having a warm soft weight by his elbow or on his shoulder during class, having Blaise practically begging to kitty-sit as a favour. However, he also spent his alone time with him, and not just the kit playing with a feather while he finished his essays for the next day. They frequently took showers together, although now, Kilmousky was protected by a Water Repellent Charm, making Draco tingle to think this was Harry he was showering with. Also each minute Draco primped to get ready for the day made the kitten look more and more curiously at him.
Draco had even limited his time in front of the mirror so that he had to forgo slicking his hair, which made the kitten ecstatic as he could now play with it while riding his shoulder. Draco had gotten used to it, but couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Harry preferred his hair loose, and not just as a kitten. This was what was driving him insane, the idea that his crush could see him like this, unguarded and at his most private. Draco felt like an exhibitionist most of the time and worse was that he enjoyed the attention enormously. In fact he liked it so much that he was forced to leave Kilmousky in Blaise’s dubious care in the mornings so he could take a shower and relieve some of the tension created by the steamy dreams he’d had.
Harry wondered if Draco remembered him in his dreams because he was driving Harry insane. His sleeping pattern made it so that he would turn to his human form during the later part of the night. And since Kilmousky insisted on naps during the day, mainly during class, he was unable to fall back asleep. So he sat and watched as Draco slept and occasionally dreamed. The first time it happened, Harry had been only half awake, and when Draco moaned his name. Harry had sleepily turned around and kissed him very gently. He had been shocked and a little ashamed of himself at first. But he soon noticed it was the only way to shut Draco up when he was moaning like that, because after a peck the blond would be silent again. Harry didn’t think he could stop kissing him if those sweet sounds continued.
But soon just a touch of heaven was no longer enough. Harry was fairly certain that touching a sleeping boy like that had to be illegal somewhere. He had tried to stop himself, sitting at the Slytherin’s desk to be out of touching distance but he couldn’t seem to resist. So he had resorted to writing again, borrowing one of Pansy’s blank diaries that she had lying around. He was careful to place it under the bed when he finished. He wrote of every touch, every kiss he’d stolen so that Draco wouldn’t miss the memories, or dreams, if that’s what they felt like to him. A month of this and Harry was adding his hopes and dreams as well as his fantasies starring his beloved blond. He only hoped that when the truth would come out, Draco wouldn’t be too mad at him. In any case, the diary would serve as an explanation, at least in part.
At times the situation just became too much to bear and when Draco woke up with a stiffly in the morning he would burrow under the covers and lick, transforming just as Draco woke up, to make it seem as if he was merely playing. That came to an abrupt end when Draco took to taking showers very early in the morning, just barely managing to leave him in Blaise’s dubious care. Those were the mornings when he wished Blaise didn’t insist he play cute for the girls. He would have much rather watch his beautiful Draco, pale and glistening in the shower, and to comfort himself Harry wrote that down too. It helped that Blaise was considerate enough to take him out to pee. Because those mornings, with Blaise affording him a measure of privacy by turning around, he could rub against the cool wet grass and think of Draco’s beautiful feet against the cold wet tiles of his shower.
Even if his feline self felt no attraction for Prince, Harry’s feelings, all of them, burned bright in the kitty heart and made him very in tune with what Prince was feeling. So he was there for Draco when he received worrying news from home and when Draco was upset or sad or tired. Kilmousky and Harry were in accord in at least one point though. Before he had spent so much time with him, he had known something was up with Malfoy, Harry just hadn’t realized it was none of the blond’s fault. A small knot of anger had formed in Harry’s gut as he had realized how that monster, Voldemort wanted to destroy another family. Without knowing the specifics, it was clear their life was being threatened. Harry resolved to save them, so Draco could be happy again.
For his part Draco had come to some conclusions of his own. Cemented in the six years he had known Harry, knowing him close had just brought them closer to home. For example, fighting with someone for five years can give you a good appreciation of their character if you decide to ever look at it that is. Harry Potter had grown in Draco’s own estimation from seeing Harry as just being brave and stupid to understanding his compassion, sense of truth, respect for family, caring and protectiveness for his friends that outweighed all his faults. The faults were still there, but Draco could look past them to the boy he might have been in love with without even knowing.
The fact that Harry wasn’t really what his parents wanted was a valid issue. But Half-blood or not, he was still their one chance to be free of this reign of terror. Draco still hoped The Brat Who Stole His Heart would be able to defeat the Dark Lord, but he doubted it. Even so he could no more stop his heart from hoping than he could date Potter. Draco supposed they would see when they would stop pretending of only being a boy and his pet kitten.