Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus, or "A Sleeping Dragon is Never to be Tickled".

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Our favourite boy-who-lived-to-be-hyphonated was curious. Curious about hogwarts' motto. And so, he set out to find himself a dragon. In the process, he somehow ended up in the Seireitei, and was currently creeping through the halls to where he knew one of the great beasts lay. He had all the necessary equipment.

1 invisibility cloak.

1 pair of good running shoes, for his escape plan.

1 rather long, and rather soft quill.

1 plan that would surely go to ruin.

The boy crept through the shadows, which was quite easy now that he had his animahus form; a solid black shorthaired cat with emerald eyes. Seeing the door which lead to his goal, he mentally chuckled. It was ajar, so he slipped through the crack, quiet as a mouse. He stalked over to the back of the couch which was situated in front of a rather orderly desk. Obviously an office.

Harry listened to hear if the coast was clear.

You can never be too careful with these Shinigami.

'Let the fun begin...' Harry though, as he transformed back to his human form. He reached into his pocket and rew out his quill. He peered over the back of the couch, smiling like the devil himself.

There lay a white-haired youth, sleeping.

Toshiro Hitsugaya, Captain of the tenth squad, Podigy, Genius, youngest captain in the history of Soul Society.

And he was about to become a victim of Harry's devious plot.

Harry leaned over, and tickled the small captain's nose.

The whitette twotched said appendage.

Harry repeated the action, sweeping the soft end of the quill of the width of the Captain's face.

Another twitch.

Harry smirked as he thought of a solution to this... predicament.

Harry leaned over the couch again, tensed and ready to spring away if need be, before he shoved the fluffy quill into the small captain's mouth and leaping into cat form to crouch beneath the couch as the little captain let out an indignant squak. Said captain lept up from the couch, practically falling off, before spitting out the offending feather and trying to sense who the hell did this. Harry was almost in throes of laughter, but he let out a small mewl by accident before clapping his ha- ahem, paws over his mouth.

The small Taicho heard it, of course, and reached under the couch to grab the cat by the scruff of the neck, lifting him out and up to eye level.

"Potter, you are in so much trouble."

Harry now understood two phrases. One was that you really, really shouldn't tickle a sleeping dragon, and another was...

Curiosity killed the cat.