Harry stood, looking out the window towards the Quidditch Pitch. A claw cut into his jeans and the Boy-Who-Lived winced in pain and looked down. A little gray kitten was standing on it's back legs and scratching at a loose thread on his blue jeans. He reached down and picked up the creature.

"Hey, I'm not a scratching post," he chastised the kitten.

There was a thin black collar around its neck and he turned the tag on it so that he could read the name aloud.

"Purity. Huh. Never heard of a cat named that before." Harry scratched it behind the ears. "Bet your owner is wondering where you are."

The cat meowed and nestled in the crook of Harry's arm. He smiled and began to pet it methodically. Footsteps approached and Harry turned, still looking down at the animal.

"If this is your cat, he is the cutest thing ever," Harry said to the newcomer, still smiling at the kitten's behavior.

"'Ity' is not cute," a voice sneered from a few feet away.

Harry's head shot up. "Professor Snape?!"

The potions master frowned. "She's not cute," he repeated sternly. "Now give me my cat."

Harry held out the little ball of gray fur. It meowed happily and purred when Snape held her close. Harry felt disbelief bubble up inside at the picture of Severus Snape cuddling a kitten.

The Professor scowled. "You never saw this. I was never here."

As he retreated down the hall, the potions master shot a obliviating spell over his shoulder. Harry blinked as the world shifted slightly. He looked out the window at the Quidditch Pitch and wondered why he couldn't stop thinking about little gray kittens. With a shrug, the Gryffindor chalked it up to hunger.