The war was over. The "good" side won, Voldemort was dead, and Harry Potter could live his life in peace. He had a lovely house, with big windows, a nice garden, and it was close to Godric's hollow, so that he could visit his parent's grave. And he had recovered nicely from the pressure, his friends visited him often, and even though he and Ginny broke up, they were still good friends. But Harry felt lonely. The nice house was just too big for him alone, and the garden lost it's magic without anyone. And Harry couldn't just force some stranger into his house to have some company, and his friends were busy with each other. Ron and Hermione was going to move together, Ginny was still living at home and had something going with Dean, and George… well, George needed time to recover. It had been hard for him to lose his twin.
No, Harry decided to get a pet. A kitten, or a dog. He couldn't buy a new owl: Hedvig was the only owl he'd ever get, and now she was dead, lost. Harry could still feel his heart ache at the thought of his companion, the while owl, dead, cold… instead, he'd get a pet like a cat or a dog. Maybe a cat was the best thing right now, a dog was going to be stressful and hard to deal with. A cat was a nice start. So Harry took a trip to London to buy a cat in a pet store. He decided to get a normal pet, not some magical creature he had to learn a whole lot of things about. So he walked into a big pet shop, almost in the centre of London. He looked at the animals making noises all over the store. He figured he'd just ask someone for help, and walked over to the chess register. A nice lady with brown hair and blue-rimmed glasses was smiling at him.
"Hello, love, how can I help you?" she asked, picking up a small dog and patting it's head. Harry smiled at her, and pushed his hands down in his pockets.
"Uhm, I was thinking about getting a kitten. Just… just for the company." The lady smiled, sat the dog down, and walked around the desk and over to him. She grabbed his arm and guided him towards some boxes.
"Here you go, love. These are siblings, and quite young. And these…" She talked and pointed at different cages, but Harry had spottet a grey kitten, all alone in a small box. He furred his brow, and walked over to it. The kitten looked quite furious, and lost, and Harry felt his heart melt. The poor kitten was the only one all alone, and Harry knew he had just picked his new pet. He picked it up, and it instantly attacked his hand with claws and teeth. Harry just laughed, and played a little with it. The brown haired lady smiled and walked over to him again.
"Ah, I see you've fallen for our little heart-breaker. He's quite a handful: he never cuddles, and it doesn't seem like he's growing." She furred her brows, and Harry giggled. The kitten was still attacking his hands, biting and scratching. Harry could handle it. He wanted this kitten, no one else.
"I'll take it. I can handle him. Does he have a name?" The lady smiled, and motioned him to follow her.
"Yes, his name is Dragon. Or that is what we think the note said. We found him outside, you know, so we checked him for any diseases, and then we took him in." Harry nodded, and patted the kitten on the head. It froze, before it sneered and bit him. Harry payed, got a cage for the small kitten, some food and toys, and then he was outside again, smiling to himself. He had company, a small kitten, that was only his. Dragon… it fitted. Such a handful. But Harry was going to manage. He had done so many other things, and he was going to handle a kitten.
He took the subway home. He had the cage with the kitten on his lap, and he poked his fingers through the bars, allowing the kitten to bite them. Dragon was getting tired, though, because the bites was half-hearted, and soon, he just nibbled carefully. Harry was smiling, pleased. He rested his head on the neck-supporter on his seat, and closed his eyes. He sat like that for a while, and then they stopped to let someone on. Harry didn't have to be scared of bumping into people he knew: witches and wizards didn't take the subway.
"Harry? What are you doing here?" a surprised voice said, and Harry's eyes popped open. He looked straight at Cho Chang, the girl he had been dating for a while. Harry blushed, and straightened, smiling slightly.
"Oh hey, Cho. Uhm, I took a trip to London to buy a kitten. What are you doing here?" he asked then, and Cho smiled at him. Then she slipped down in the seat next to him, placing one leg over the other, before she stroked away a few hairs from her face in a seducive way. Harry froze. Was she flirting with him?
"I was just visiting a friend of mine. She lives here, now I'm going home. I haven't seen you for a while, Harry. What have you been up to?" Harry stared at her. Yes, she was definetly flirting with him. Harry swallowed, and tried to scoot away a little. He didn't need this, not now. He was tired, and all he wanted to do, was to go home.
"Uhm, nothing much. Just… you know, hanging around. I'm taking a year off before I go on with my studies: makes it easier. And… and you? What have you been up to?" he asked politely. Cho smiled again, and stroke her hand through her hair. Woah, slow down there! Harry thought, and scooted a little to the right. Dragon made a sound from his cage, and Harry turned it around, grateful for the interrupt. Dragon was staring at Cho, his grey eyes angry. Harry opened the bars, and picked the small kitten up. Cho whined, and came closer to pat the small kitten.
"Oh, what a cute kitten! What is his name? He looks so adoreable, I think he likes me!" she purred, and tickled him. He sneered, and Harry pinched his neck, hoping he wouldn't go mad and run away. Instead, he turned to look at Harry, and frowned. He bit his hand, and Harry smiled, putting him back in his cage.
"His name's Dragon," Harry answered, looking out the window. Three, two one… they stopped, and Harry stood up.
"Gotta go, sorry. Guess I'll see you later, bye!" he said hastily, and ran off the train, clenching the cage in his hand. He had gotten used to people throwing themselves all over him after he broke up with Ginny, and saving the wizarding world and such. But he was tired of it, he didn't need it. He walked up the stairs, and out onto the street. He walked to a small shop, hidden between a bookstore and a cd-shop. When he came through the doors, Tom smiled at him.
"Hello, Potter. How are you? Going home again?" he asked, and Harry smiled tiredly.
"Yes Tom, I'm going home." With that, he walked out into the alley, and Disapperated.
When he had finished dinner, cleaned up, fed the kitten and done some laundry, he threw himself on the sofa, grabbing the remote. He had insisted on getting a tv and other muggle-things to enjoy himself, like a computer, videogames and a phone. Some of those things, like the phone, wasn't necessary, because no one he knew had a phone to call him with, but he felt like having one anyways. He stared at the tv with a blank expression. It was some stupid talk-show for muggles, and Harry couldn't understand why people participated in things like that. He put one arm under his head for support, and let the other one hang down, almost reaching the floor. Suddenly, Dragon was all over his hand, scratching and biting furiously. Harry laughed, and lifted the grey kitten up, so that he could play with him. But Dragon seemed to be determined to fight, not play, and Harry furred his brows. This kitten had to be scared to death to fight with such energy. Right then, he bit down hard on Harry's hand, who shouted out in pain and ripped the kitten away, holding it on an arms length away, while he looked down at his hands. Blood was running down in small trails from two bite marks. It looked like vampire-marks, and Harry groaned. That kitten sure was an evil little bastard. He glanced at the kitten, who seemed to be pleased with himself. Harry growled.
"Happy now, aren't you?" he mumbled, and the kitten purred. Harry's eyebrows shot up, and he stared at the kitten. It looked back with a knowing look, and Harry glanced back.
"You bastard," he mumbled, and sat him down carefully. Even though he was a mean son of a bitch, he was company, and Harry was not going to return him, or worse. He walked into the bathroom to clean his wounds, and the kitten followed. Harry kept on sending it glances, but it just sat down on the floor, purring loudly. He huffed, and looked at his wounds. Damn, that cat could bite! He made a face, and put on some bandages, before he walked out into the kitchen. The kitten followed, still purring, with a wicked spark in it's eye. Harry frowned at it, and if it had been human, it'd rolled it's eyes. The man walked over to the refridgerator to pull out some milk, and poured it into the kitten's bowl. Then he grabbed some orangejuice, hesitated, and grabbed the vodka instead. He poured some into a glass, and decided to take it as it was. He downed it all in one shot, and coughed. When he straightened up again, the kitten was giving him a look, quite like one of those Mrs. Weasly gave her sons if they did something bad. Harry just raised an eyebrow at the kitten, before he poured some more, grabbing the bottle and walking into the livingroom. He threw himself down on the sofa, and groaned loudly. He wasn't sure why he was getting pissed on vodka, he just felt like it. He turned on some stupid movie, and drank some more vodka. The kitten had followed him, and was sitting in the window, looking at him. Harry kept shooting it glances everytime he drank, and if he hadn't known that it was a muggle-cat, without any magical abilities, he'd said it was telling him he was stupid.