Don't Touch The Paw!

Disclaimer-I do not and will never own Harry Potter. I do however own the plot to this fanfic. And yes Dumbledore and Snape are alive in my story. Why? Because I said so, that's why. I got the power! Lol Now sit back, relax and enjoy this insomnia-induced limey post-war Dramione goodness! XD

"I just have one thing to say...WHY?" Hermione Granger groaned dramatically as her amber eyes scanned the room.

"Right! This is concrete proof that old Dumbledore has FINALLY cracked" Ginny snickered.

"Seriously, I love the man like a grandfather, but REALLY,...pajama day? What has that man been smoking? And the fact that it's mandatory just makes it worse" Hermione groaned

wondering just what that crafty old kook had up his pretty purple velvet sleeves as she looked down at herself. She was currently wearing the least skimpy set of pajamas she owned, which consisted of a unzipped, thin, black customized hoodie (bedazzled!) with the words "The Gryffindor Lioness' spelled out on the back in red rhinestones with an image of a fierce pale gold, bronze, and white rhinestone lioness below it, over a cropped blood-red tank top, a pair of black/red/yellow plaid flannel pajama shorts that reached mid-thigh, and best of all, her favorite, very realistic lion-paw slippers with black leather claws. On that note, Hermione uncharacteristically slouched back in her chair and lifted her slipper-clad feet up to rest, crossed at the ankles, on top of her desk. 'Where the fuck is Snape?' she thought to herself as she gazed around at the professor-less Advanced-Potions classroom (Harry and Ron aren't in that class. Too advanced for them.)

"Bloody hell Mudblood! What the FUCK are those revolting things?" as a deep and husky yet impossibly snide voice sneered as the owner stared in undisguised revulsion at Hermione's feet with icy mercury orbs. Suddenly a large, pale hand latched onto her slipper, it's owner tugging at it like a curious child.

Upon hearing the unmistakably familiar baritone, Hermione ignored the tugging and simply turned her head in the voice's general direction, making sure keep her poker-face in tact. Internally however, she was practically purring at the sight of Draco's nightwear, which consisted of- a pair of black silk pajama pants and an expensive looking emerald green housecoat with his initials emblazoned on the front in silver cursive, the robe was open bearing a sculpted chest as well as a rather impressive 6-pack complete with a dark blonde happy-trail, darker than the devil-may-care styled platinum blonde on his head, that disappeared beneath his pants. 'Damn, with a body like that you could almost forget that he's a grade-A prick...' she thought to herself as she gave him a sly once-over from beneath her bangs. "Really Malfoy, REALLY? Pray do tell, what do YOU think they are?" she drawled in exasperation.

Those seemed to be the magic words because as soon as they escaped her mouth, Draco's eyes lit up and a sinister Grinch-worthy grin pulled at his lips. "They could be the result of another botched Polyjuice Potion, eh Miss Kitty? Though I see that you've definitely matured from a mangy kitten to a mangy lioness" he purred, as he not so subtly let his gaze rove over all of the brunette's exposed flesh.

'...And then he opens his mouth' she thought to herself. At the reminder of her 2nd year Polyjuice mishap as well as the rather lewd comment pertaining to her now mature, fully-developed appearance Hermione literally growled, quirking a brow in annoyance and disbelief as she yanked her foot out of the blonde's grasp. "Really Malferret, I thought even a ditzy blonde like you would be able to recognize a pair of slippers when you saw them" she practically snarled as she nimbly hopped up onto her desk so she could glare straight into his eyes without such a severe height disadvantage, crossing her arms across her chest.

In that instant whatever Draco was about to say basically flew out of his mind as his gaze landed on the surprising amount of cleavage displayed to him in that instant. It was then that he noticed something out of the ordinary. "Damn Granger, since when did you get a tattoo? Let me rephrase that, since when were you ever the type to even CONSIDER getting one" he questioned never removing his gaze from the solid black pawprint with the letters T.G.L in red cursive inked on the top of Hermione's right breast.

That was when Hermione's patience reached it's limit. Before she could stop herself, Hermione pounced off the desk to stand directly in front of the 6'3 male, no longer caring about the height difference. "People change Malfoy and despite the fact that we have attended the same school and shared the same classes since age 11, you DO NOT know ANYTHING about me, much less about what 'type' I am now! So do me a favor and mind your own FUCKING business" she growled, viciously poking at his toned abdomen for emphases.

That was when Draco took it upon himself to REALLY look at Hermione since the moment they met on the train in 1st year (even before she met Harry and Ron).

Standing before him was a fierce yet truly beautiful young woman. She was rather petite (standing around 5'2) with flawless natural light olive skin, a pretty heart-shaped face complete with a cute button nose, a proverbial mane of rather long, luxurious golden-brown and natural blonde highlighted curls that reached her hips, and KILLER curves (large perky D-cup chest, tiny yet toned tummy, curvacious hips, a round and perky ass, and legs that, despite her height, seemed to go on for miles.) Though the two things about her that instantly caught his attention weren't her hair or her curves,

It was her eyes. Her eyes and her full, totally snoggable lips.

Her eyes, that were enhanced with a touch of coal black liner, were an amazing and exotic shade of amber, like the finest whiskey money could buy (he would know), burning and flashing with lethal yet enticing flames of hate-fueled passion. Her lips, that were currently pulled back in a fierce tooth-bearing snarl, were full and naturally red with a slight pout to the bottom lip.

'Damn! How did I never realize how perfect she is? Not only is she's absolutely fucking gorgeous, she's smarter and more cunning than the whole of Ravenclaw and Slytherin put together, and she's stronger, braver and more steadfastly loyal than her entire house plus that of Hufflepuff could even dream of being.' at that an image of her blatantly lieing to his psycho aunt about the sword of Gryffindor while under Crucio (something that shouldn't even have been possible) flashed through his head, followed by the image of his deranged aunt carving the word 'Mudblood' into her arm. At that Draco looked down and low-and-behold, there it was plain as day, blatantly revealed by her pushed up sleeves. Her scar, or as she liked to call it, 'her medal of honor.' The proof that she had lived through a war. The proof that she went through hell and back. The proof that she was no longer an innocent little school-girl, but a seasoned war veteran, a lethal warrior princess.

Suddenly something clicked in Draco's head, 'and it's because of all those things that she's still single. She's too proud and untamed for the average schoolboy to handle' Draco thought to himself with a smirk. 'What she needs is a man, a man who can match her strengths and pride with his own. A man who lived through what she lived through, A man who can claim and tame her mind, body, and soul...

...A man like me." he accidentally whispered out-loud before he did the unthinkable. In front of his whole class Draco did something so crazy that it would later be documented in the updated version of 'Hogwarts; a History.'

Swooping down Draco crashed his perfect lips against Hermione's unsuspecting ones, causing her and the whole class to gasp in shock, the aforementioned girl too dumbfounded to react any other way. Using Hermione's gasp to his advantage, Draco skillfully slipped his sly tongue into her mouth, trying to coax her play with him. That seemed to wake Hermione from her shock induced stupor. Narrowing her eyes with a growl, Hermione reached her hands up to shove him away. Seeing that, Draco released a deep growl of his own, bring one hand up to clasp both her wrists together to prevent her from reaching her wand, while his other hand went up to clasp Hermione possessively around waist pulling her flush against him, trapping her hands against his bare rock-solid chest. By now Hermione realized that she was trapped, so she finally just threw in the towel and gave in, kissing him back with all the pent up frustration and ferocity she had in her. With a snarl Hermione opened her mouth a little wider and proceeded to attack Draco's unsuspecting mouth in a barrage of tongue and teeth.

Now it was Draco's turn to gasp as Hermione finally responded. The way Hermione was basically devouring his mouth was akin to the way a starved lioness would devour a zebra. Her famously sharp tongue was basically claiming his mouth as it thrashed his into submission, her teeth nipping sharply at his lower lip as she snarled into his mouth.

And she didn't stop there.

Before Draco could blink, Hermione leapt up, wrapping her strong legs around him in a death grip, causing him to groan, moving his hands down to clutch her arse. It was then that Hermione felt Draco's stiff excitement trapped in between her legs, the stiff man meat literally throbbing beneath his thin pajama pants. 'Well someone is certainly enjoying himself' she thought to herself, before a devious smirk pulled at her lips. Tightening her grip on the blonde, Hermione proceeded to grind her clothed crotch against Draco's ragging erection, causing Draco's eyes to bulge as he released her mouth, tightening his grip on Hermione in hopes that she would be still. "Granger if you don't stop moving I swear to Merlin I'm going to drag you into the nearest broom closet and shag you senseless" he growled in her ear as he clamped his teeth down onto her neck, marking her, claiming her.

Feeling Draco's sharp teeth sink into her neck (her most sensitive spot) Hermione moaned and panted through her own clenched teeth, unconsciously grinding even harder against Draco.

That did it.

Before anyone in the room could blink, Draco bolted out the door, with the paw-clad Gryffindor in his arms. The last thing the class saw as the classroom door closed was Draco tearing open the door of the broom closet across the hall before launching himself and his lioness inside, slamming the door shut behind them.