Draco Meets Fred
It takes four weeks for Draco to notice the cat.
"Charles," he says stiffly, striding into the living room with the air of someone who is extremely miffed, "why is there a cat in your flat?"
Charlie blinks and runs a hand through his wild locks. "Uhhh... he lives here?"
Draco crosses his arms. "Since when?" he demands, then freezes. "Wait, it's a he?"
"Since April 15th, if we're being technical," Charlie answers with a smirk, enjoying the blatantly shocked look on Draco's face. "And yes, he is. His name is Fred."
He had found the little calico cat hiding under a bench in Diagon Alley. The cat had been terrified of him at first, but Charlie managed to coax him out with some tuna. The poor thing had been so skinny that his bones were showing, and he was quite skittish, but he had trusted Charlie enough to bring him home. With a little food and attention, he had started to bulk right up.
"Fred?" Draco asks at last. "Like your brother? You named the cat...after your brother?"
Charlie shrugs, leaning back against the cushions of the big, squashy couch. "I dunno. It just suits him. He's as mischievous as my brother was, though, let me tell you."
There is a brief pause, and Charlie thinks the discussion is over, but then-
"Charlie," Draco sighs. He perches on the edge of the sofa and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I am not a cat person."
Charlie leans over and wraps his burly arms around Draco's slender frame. "I know," he whispers into his lover's ear, feeling him shiver ever so slightly, "but I couldn't leave him. He needed me."
Draco huffs, schooling his features into a pout that Charlie finds adorable. "That's all very well, but I did not agree to sharing you with a cat."
"He's very independent, so no sharing necessary. Besides, he'll grow on you, trust me." Charlie kisses Draco briefly, then settles back against the couch. He is certain that the blonde-haired man will, in time, grow to be as fond of Fred as he is.
Fred himself emerges from Charlie's bedroom and sniffs Draco tentatively. Draco makes a sort of quiet hissing noise, and Fred gives him a wide berth, opting instead to settle into Charlie's lap. The glare Draco sends the cat is so malicious that Charlie is surprised Fred doesn't spontaneously combust.
"Jealous?" he asks lightly, petting Fred's head. He grins widely Draco, who looks murderous.
"No," Draco says, his jaw clenched. He grabs a Daily Prophet from the coffee table and disappears behind it. Charlie chuckles.
"I know what you're doing, Draco."
"Don't flatter yourself," comes Draco's voice from behind the newspaper.
Charlie reaches over and plucks the paper out of Draco's hands. Fred remains in his lap, purring, despite the movement. "Stop hiding. Can we talk about this, please?"
"I believe we just did, and you made it very clear that you're keeping the fleabag," Draco says petulantly, scooting out of Charlie's reach.
"He's not a fleabag," Charlie protests. "He's cuddly and sweet, rather like you when you're not being a pain in the arse."
Draco sniffs. "I resent that, Charles."
"Well, you never were one to take a compliment," Charlie snorts. "Anyway, you're right. Fred is staying, whether you like it or not."
"Fine," Draco harrumphs. After a moment, he squeezes his eyes shut as though in pain and thrusts his hand in the direction of Charlie's lap.
"What are you doing?" Charlie asks, laughing.
"I'm letting it - him - sniff me. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?"
Charlie nods, surprised. He didn't think Draco knew how to act around cats, having assumed that Lucius and Narcissa did not allow him to have any pets growing up.
Fred eyes Draco's hand, bringing his nose up to it hesitantly. Charlie holds his breath, hoping the cat doesn't decide to bite out of fear.
"Careful," he murmurs. To his relief, Fred rubs his head against the proffered hand, purring loudly. "I think he likes you."
"Great," Draco mutters, but he doesn't look as annoyed as his tone suggests. He slowly moves his hand so that he is awkwardly stroking the animal, then looks up at Charlie. "He's not entirely unpleasant, I suppose."
"See? You just had to give him a chance," Charlie says, grinning triumphantly.
"Alright, alright," Draco grumbles. "You can stop rubbing it in now."
Charlie's smile turns mischievous. "Never."
Word count: 742
