Title: Kitty Kisses (Part 2 of 2)
It was the day before Valentine’s Day and Draco in particular was not in a good mood. While he dearly loved Kilmousky, he really wanted to spend the day with Harry, which just wasn’t possible. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Blaise wouldn’t stop badgering him for a few minutes with Kilmousky on his shoulder, just until he got a date. Draco hated that his friend treated Harry as an animal but for the moment that’s what he was, no matter how Draco wanted him and not his furry friend. Eventually he gave in and let Blaise walk Kilmousky around a bit around school, Draco figured it wasn’t healthy how he clung to Kilmousky anyway.
But watching him go was making him even more bereft, so he stormed outside for a bit of fresh air. He settled against a tree close to the lake and enjoyed the sunshine. It seemed time, time to talk to Harry and maybe try and see if anything between them was possible. Lost in his thoughts, he stared across the lake until his eyes hurt from the glow of the sun on it. He seemed so transfixed that Kilmousky stepped lightly so as not to startle him and for once just curled up quietly in his pocket, letting him think.
Draco groaned as he levered himself off the hard ground. Clearly the Portkey hadn’t been designed for safe or comfortable transportation. He stopped cold when he heard the sibilant voice of the Dark Lord reached his ears. “Come here, boy, and do not make me wait.” The command seemed to come from a little distance so Draco composed himself as best he could before obeying. When he saw that the Dark Lord was alone, he gulped. In his terror, he barely noticed when the chain broke and the locket soundlessly tumbled to the ground, catching on fur on its way down. Nor did he notice when his pocket had stopped squirming as his attention was caught on something else.
“You are useless to me, aren’t you? Pretty, but there isn’t much in that head of yours, is it? Not enough to consider that if you failed to kill that fool Dumbledore I would kill you? My patience has been tried long enough and since your parents decided to flee and leave you behind you shall suffer for their failures too – Crucio!” The long rhetoric speech partly prepared him for the shock that the Unforgivable was but not for his parent’s desertion of him. That hurt more than the Cruciatus and Draco just succumbed to the pain, to escape the mental anguish.
Watching Draco cry out in pain Kilmousky decided that desperate measures were called for. He left Nagini’s carcass, still piercing the locket, and pranced until he was right next to Voldemort’s boot. Since there was no audience to alert him of it, Kilmousky obeyed instinct and peed on him, copiously. He cringed at the sibilant scream of disgust, it was too loud and he actually folded his ears at the swearing, so vulgar. Then he was being picked up by the scruff and held in front of a truly ugly mug. Scratching could only make it better so Kilmousky proceeded to do just that. Seconds later Kilmousky was flung away and instinct again kicked in to make him rotate and hand softly on the pads of his paws.
Harry then transformed and watched as Voldemort’s face congested more and more with fury and something else. While seeming to be barely breathing, Voldemort made a valiant attempt to laugh at the deadly intent Harry was sure could be seen in his eyes. Then Harry cleared his expression and just looked, waiting. He looked as Voldemort became aware of his own mortality, as he screamed to see Nagini dead, as he shook at the sight of the ruined locket. Thanks to Severus Snape, Nagini’s propensity for shiny things had finally been her undoing. Mr. Malfoy’s cool observation of Pettigrew’s constant presence as well as the vicious death of any cat within a mile of Voldemort’s hideout and his wife’s cleverness at realizing the fatal allergy had been instrumental for this one moment.
And when Voldemort whirled to face him again, he nodded as their suspicions were confirmed and the monster chocked and then fell, wheezing, to the floor. Drawing close to the dying wizard Harry quoted to him: “Allergies, if not treated immediately at the onset of an attack, may be fatal.” Harry spoke the words in a monotone before checking the pulse. He needn’t have bothered, as he felt the last exhale. It seemed that reptilian noses were not equipped for such things such as allergies. And this time, the bastard wasn’t coming back, since the Order’s spies had ensured the destruction of the things that had kept him alive that first time.
Harry Potter turned around and rushed to Draco, who had passed out under the pain of the Cruciatus. Carefully picking up the other boy Harry activated the Emergency Portkey the Headmaster had made, which took them directly to the Hospital Wing. Once there, he tenderly placed his precious burden on a bed before rushing anxiously after Madam Pomfrey. Thankfully she was in her office, with the Malfoys, who rushed past Harry when they heard what had transpired. Spies for the Order until the last possible moment, it was clear that all they cared about now was the well being of their son, for which they had changes sides and fought to protect.
When Pomfrey shooed them away from the bedside so she could work, Mrs. Malfoy approached Harry. It was all Harry could do not to transform and scamper off at the sight. Mrs. Malfoy warmly took his hands in hers and sat him down on an unoccupied bed.
“Thank you for sending the Patronus Mrs. Malfoy. Your Patronus is beautiful by the way.” Harry blurted before he could stop himself. But he was grateful he had gone to Draco and to have had the Malfoys on his side to find and destroy the Horcruxes.
“Thank you. Are you well, Mr. Potter?” she asked in a soft voice, soothing his frazzled nerves a bit. Harry bit his lip as he fought not to transform.
“I’m fine” Harry said hating himself for the tremor he could hear in his voice. He gasped as he felt the comfort of Mrs. Malfoy soft hand gently stroking the back of his hand. And when their eyes met, he could no longer hold back his transformation when he saw the understanding in blue eyes, so similar to Draco’s. Those same hands held him gently as the petting was resumed all along his back. It soothed Kilmousky and soon he was a purring mess of relaxation, so much in fact that he nearly missed Mrs. Malfoy’s next words.
“I am very glad your Animagus form is a cat, Mr. Potter. Lucius still isn’t very sure but I will work on it.”
She petted him a little more before placing him on the bed and leaving the ward, with Lucius in tow. They moved as one and for a little while Kilmousky wondered if he and Prince would ever move like that. Then he turned to the matron with a questioning mew.
“He will be fine, Mr. Potter. I have administered the pain potion and . . .” the rest was lost in the relief Kilmousky felt at the news.
He turned to stare at the still form on the bed and when he heard that Pomfrey had entered her office again, he jumped off the bed and crawled up Prince’s. He touched his nose to the so still, pale hand and mewed pitifully. Really though, Prince should be awake, shouldn’t he? Kilmousky tried biting a finger and despaired at the lack of reaction. Deciding to wait it out, he jumped on top of his chest and settled over the heart, hoping to hear when his Prince would awaken.
The constant thump, thump suddenly became thump, thump, thump, meaning someone was waking up. Soft fur brushed against chin as grey eyes opened to stare right into green. The kitty kiss was inevitable but the kitty hug was a new one. Soft paws pressed against his cheeks as their noses rubbed, then slid around his throat, as the kitten curled around his throat. The moment of tenderness lasted long enough for Draco to relax, confident he was safe and warm and fuzzy inside at his kitten’s caring. Said kitten then moved to its hunches and growled as he patted his nose and cheeks in reprimand for the worry.
Draco bit on a laugh of pure joy at the typical Kilmousky reaction and apologized until the paws stopped. Looking at him as he raised a hand to tenderly cup the little head, Draco suddenly remembered the squirming in his pocket and gasped
“You were there! How did you . . .” but was stopped by a paw that missed his lips and fell on his gasp. For a moment they both froze, the kitten seemingly embarrassed, Draco ludicrously aroused. Then Draco’s resolve to keep silent on the matter broke and he found himself addressing the boy the kitten was.
“Harry, please change, we need to talk,” Draco asked, gently petting the soft fur, partly in comfort, partly so he wouldn’t run away. The kit tilted his head to the side as he teasingly tapped Draco’s chin once before changing.
At once both were aware of their position, Harry draped over a reclined Draco but before Draco could think of doing anything, Harry just hugged him hard before quickly getting off and slipping to sit on the edge of the bed.
Winded by the sudden hug, Draco could only stare up at him, as Harry seemed somehow taller and his face seemed somehow even more handsome than he remembered. Then again it had been months since he had last seen Harry’s face and his feelings and longing had grown and matured in that time.
“How did you know it was me?” Harry asked, bringing Draco out of his musings.
“I didn’t, I just hoped,” Draco smiled sweetly up at him, feeling warm inside when Harry’s breath caught. He was shocked by the look in the green eyes. There was such tenderness in them that Draco could finally allow himself to hope for something more, but before that, something needed to be addressed:
“You were there, as Kilmousky, weren’t you? When the Dark Lord . . . what happened?” Draco bit his lip. Was it over, or was it just one of Harry’s lucky escapes?
“It’s over, permanently this time. Your parents helped us and . . .” the rest got cut off when Draco launched himself at Harry, holding him so close and shaking. Harry put his arms around him and just held on as Draco babbled, not letting him go until it was all out.
“He said . . . he said my parents had left . . . and I was so afraid . . . that maybe he was right . . . and that when you killed him I wouldn’t be there to cheer . . . and . . . I was afraid he’d hurt you . . . that you would di . . .” Draco only stopped when he felt as if he would choke on the last word and buried his hands in the back of Harry’s jumper and his face in the crook of his neck. The smell comforted him, warm and safe, like home, like cinnamon cookies and Quidditch in the spring and fresh morning dew and he calmed bit by bit.
When his Prince finally relaxed and his breathing was again normal, Harry pushed him a bit away so he could see his face.
“Are you alright now?” he gently asked as he tenderly brushed a lone tear away.
Draco looked into those eyes as he leaned into the tender touch. He was tired and achy and he just wanted to sleep, but not alone. He would wonder at his luck, at having Harry respond this way to him later; for now, just feeling it would do
“I am fine, I just need to go to my room. These sheets itch.” Draco said with a haughty look that was completely ruined by the tired eyes and teasing curl to his lips.
Harry couldn’t resist; he bent down and stole a kiss from Draco. And it was much better than any time he had done so in the night, because a responsive Draco was better than anything. They smiled as they parted, their cheeks flushed, happy and eager to do that again. But then Draco pitched slightly forward and Harry caught him in his arms, worried and eager to get the blond in bed. As for the rest, it can wait, Harry told his traitorous mind as it conjured all kinds of scenarios involving Draco and him plus a bed.
“Can you walk?” Harry asked before realizing how stupid it sounded. But Draco answered anyway, a teasing lilt to the words.
“No, but you could carry me.” Draco was pleased to see the blush in those cheeks, and he continued to look coyly through his fringe until Harry growled. Harry swept them up the bed and outside the room in a whirlwind of Gryffindor impetuousness, Draco’s delighted laughter accompanying it.
They met no one on the way to the Slytherin dorm and not even in the common room. Harry figured that because the news of Voldemort’s defeat had traveled throughout the school, so everyone was probably in the Great Hall. By the time they entered Draco’s quarters, the blond was half asleep. Harry just smiled lovingly at him as he settled him into bed before transforming into a cat and curling up to purr comfortingly on his chest. The blond was bound to have nightmares otherwise, and Harry would do anything to prevent it. Kilmousky too feel asleep when a hand settled on his back, securing him in place with utmost delicacy.
Harry had never before slept through the night without waking up, but when he woke up to warm hands massaging his back, he nearly purred in happiness. He drifted lazily to consciousness, relaxed and happy as he lay sprawled on Draco, like his kitten self had fallen asleep. Harry opened his eyes and basked in the almost dreamlike atmosphere of the room, with the soft light coming from the enchanted windows in leafy patterns.
He lazily turned his head and caught Draco’s warm lips in a small peck before closing his eyes on a sigh. As he snuggled closer, Harry heard a small whimper and froze. It all came back to him then: Voldemort’s defeat and Draco hurting, Mrs. Malfoy as good as giving her blessing for them to be together and Draco caring.
But when Harry opened his eyes it was to gaze directly into silver pools of tenderness. In spite of physical discomfort, the smile the blond wore was bright and happy. Harry couldn’t help but grin in response and place another peck on that smiling mouth.
By now, Harry was on all fours above Draco, moving to retrieve the Pain Potion that he had nicked from the Infirmary as a precaution. The blond took it gratefully, downing it in a gulp before licking his lips, the sight of which immediately send Harry’s mind in the gutter.
However, it was the trust, more that anything, that took Harry’s breath away. Draco trusted Harry to take care of him, to give him a good potion, to not betray his trust . . . Suddenly remembering, Harry blushed, kissing the blond once again before getting up from the bed, even as the Slytherin protested.
Draco didn’t understand where the plan was going. Had he not made it clear, true, in actions wore than words, that he wanted him to stay, possibly for a long time? But as Harry bent under the desk, Draco couldn’t help but admire the view. He got caught looking however as Harry abruptly turned around. Draco fought a blush as he focused on the object . . . was that a diary? . . . in Harry’s hands.
He blinked at Harry’s apology, accepting the diary as it was handed to him and opening it. By the contents, it seemed that Harry hadn’t been aware Draco had known it was him. But as the entries became longer and more detailed, Draco’s eyes became rounder. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks but now it had nothing to do with embarrassment.
He looked up toward the end of the bed to see Harry squirming uncomfortably on his spot. Draco couldn’t say he was in a better condition. However disturbing the idea of being touched while asleep would have seemed, it also held a certain appeal, namely that it was Harry doing the touching. It certainly explained his dreams and that made Draco grin. Then he looked Harry right in the eye and smiled, broadly and deliberately to show his approval of both diary and Harry.
The grin had un-tensed Harry’s shoulders so that when Draco smiled at him like that he nearly pounced on him. But mindful of the soreness that was the after effect of the Cruciatus, he gently enfolded the blond in his arms. Placing a kiss on his forehead Harry chuckled at the mumbled inquiry after a bath even as his pulse spiked a bit at the image.
So he lovingly picked up Draco and carried him to the Prefects Bathroom. The school seemed awfully quiet but then again, Harry mused, it was early. Once they arrived at their destination, Harry set about filling the pool as Draco leaned on the side, ginning and watching him work. Harry then lowered himself in the hot water too and drew Draco to lay against his chest for support.
Draco felt as if his bones were melting, the hot water and careful touches at once soothing and arousing. The soap suds were cleaning away the tension and leaving only feeling behind-the feeling of safety, warmth and so much genuine affection, so evident in every caress seemed all encompassing.
And when Harry gently nibbled on his ear he felt as if he was submerging in one of the fantasies Harry had written about. The soreness gave way to pleasure and as Draco reciprocated the touches it was even better. Better even than any fantasy he’s ever had about Harry bringing him pleasure because it was real. Between kitty-kisses and midnight fantasies, Draco had finally found his prince.