By The Emperor's Sister
There is just something about a well-tailored pair of black leather pants. Some mysterious power, that remains unknown and confusing to say the least. For they are absurd when you think about it. Their comfort level next to non-existent. In fact they are a very fashionably disguised torture device, much like stiletto heels. But like those impossibly shaped shoes, they make one's legs look damn fine.
So naturally the very egocentric and well off Draco Malfoy owned a pair. In fact, he was wiggling and slithering his way into them at this very moment.
"Damn I look sexy!" the self-absorbed blonde noted, as he checked out his tight little ass wrapped in a tight leather package. Smirking he made his way out of his quarters and left the Slytherin common room to do what he did best. Act like a Malfoy.
But he didn't get very far.
A few meters from the door and he was accosted by a swarm of appreciative Slytherin females. Not that he minded. He just strutted and turned on what his family considered 'charm'. A few minutes of flirting later and Draco noticed that his fan base had grown, considerably.
'Ravenclaw… a few Hufflepuffs… HELL! There's even some Gryffindor chicks in there!' he mused as the pack began to surround him. In just a few minutes more, he noticed that the mob was becoming quite handsy. Pawing at him like a group of horny cats. He was starting to feel rather un-easy.
As soon as he spied Mrs. Norris flitting about the grabby girls' feet, he panicked. He did what all Malfoys were known for doing in a crisis. He Ran!
He ran right into his transfiguration teacher, professor McGonagall.
"Really Mr. Malfoy! Running in the hallways like that!" she scolded looking the distraught teen up and down, with a wicked glint in her eyes. "Hmm… seems someone could do with some discipline. How's a spanking sound?"
Draco was shocked. 'My.. teacher.. is.. Coming On To ME!' and took off running again, adding a few girlish sounding screams.
He dashed up and down the many twisted and confusing paths of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. Figuring he had as good as lost them, he rushed into the closest room, and ploughed into the poor student within. Books flew and skid across the stones as Draco gazed upon the disgruntled person.
"Malfoy! You Git! Why don't you Watch It!"
"Oh thank Merlin it's just You, Granger." He sighed in relief.
""Hmph … Nice pants." She murmured and rose to her feet.
"Thanks." He answered, distracted, listening at the door for the rampaging mob. "Hell Granger, you'd never believe what just happened!" he blurted out, needing someone to unload upon, and figuring one of his nemesis was as good as anyone right then. For Hermione Mudblood Granger would NEVER try to paw lustfully at him, right?
Taking in her disinterest sounding tone as a good sign, he started blabbering away about his 'women troubles' and his desperate need for sanctuary. "See I'm not a greedy bloke, Granger! Five girls at once is my absolute limit! More than that is crazy! I mean, some of them could get bored, you know?" It wasn't until she had her arms around him that he finally noticed he wasn't out of the woods yet.
"What are you do.. Mrmphf!!" he started when she kissed him hard enough to make his knees begin to shake.
Hermione grinned saucily at the dumb struck blonde, who could only manage to blink owlishly at her.
"Bu… wha… you… Mudblood!?!" he stuttered.
Chuckling she nipped playfully at his earlobe and whispered, "Hmm… tell me rich boy. Feel like getting Dirty?"
Now Draco Malfoy's brain was not built for this kind of stress. It continuously worked, round the clock, on schoolwork, pranks, evil shenanigans, and plots to upstage Potter and company. Multitasking wasn't one of its strongest suits, though it struggled to do its best; but it couldn't take this kind of sensory overload. So it basically told Draco, "Screw You pal! I'm taking a nap!" and shut down. So the only response the young Malfoy heir could make was…
That was all it took before they began tearing at their clothes, in a rush to get them off. But it's never that easy, not when the seductive leather pants is involved. No, Hermione granger was already skirt-less, underwear-less and halfway un-buttoned when Draco realised that his slacks were NOT coming off. With all his running and sweating, they'd practically become glued to his body.
"God Damned! Bloody Hell!" he swore.
"They're not coming off!" he groaned as she stepped nearer.
"Here let me then." She offered and began tugging with all her might. Slowly but surely the possessive pants began to peel off of the boy's body, until suddenly flying right off, as easy as you please, and sending the un-prepared girl tumbling backwards. "Oof!"
Draco sighed with relief. He was free of his fashion plate prison. He eagerly turned to his companion, in hope that they could get back down to.. Business.
Hermione Granger sat, un-comfortably, on the stone cold floor. She alternated quick short glances at Draco, herself, and the pants in her hands. 'Oh Merlin! I almost… I was… I NEED to get out of here!!' she thought panicking. Deciding to save time by foregoing hunting down her missing clothes, she just jerked on Draco's trousers and sprung to her bare feet.
'Wow!' Draco mused, 'Granger almost looks as sexy as I did in those pants! Hey!? Where does she think She's going?!'
"Um… er… BYEMALFOY!" Hermione blurted and darted out the door.
"WHAT! You Can't Just Leave Me Like This!" he roared. He shrugged on his shirt once more, anxious to give chase but hesitating. SHE had his trousers. All HE had was her skirt and undies. "Oi, am I a wizard or aren't I?" he grumbled and transfigured the skirt into a nice pair of breeches and got dressed.
The chase began once more, this time with young Miss. Granger in the lead.
Hermione was feeling quite distressed. First because Draco bloody Malfoy was chasing her down, bent on 'getting it on'. Secondly, and quickly becoming the most bothersome, the borrowed leather pants were chaffing the hell out of her. 'Oh what I wouldn't do to get rescued right about now.' She thought as she struggled to stay ahead.
As if some kind goddess of fortune smiled benevolently down on her, up ahead stood her knight in shining armour. Well actually it was more like boy in slightly soiled Quidditch robes, but who cares really. Besides he was well versed in heroism, and that's all that mattered to her at this point.
"Harry!" Hermione called out, gaining the black haired boy's attention. "Help!"
"What's wrong Mione?" Harry asked as the panting brunette stopped at his side. "Woa, nice outfit."
"Thanks * pant * Mal * wheeze * foy. Ch * pant * chasing * gasp * me. Need get away." She breathed.
"No problem babe!" he grinned, startling her by winking saucily. "Anything for my bird!"
Hermione looked stupidly up at her closest friend, as if he had suddenly grown another head, and blushed. 'Did Harry just imply that I was something of a girlfriend of his? I never guessed he thought of me in that way.'
"Hey! Malfoy! You Slimy Prat! What's the deal with you playing up to My Girl!" Harry scowled as Draco caught up.
"Your girl Potty? HA! Like you could ever keep that fine piece of ass all by yourself!" He sneered right back. "Its not like a few minutes ago she wasn't all hot and bothered and ready for some pureblood royal treatment from ME!"
'Well yeah. He did have a point.' Hermione mused, 'but why?'
"Whatever! Like I'm going to listen to you? Hermione is my woman, and No one is going to take her away from me! Especially not YOU, you self-absorbed son of a death eater."
'Oh My! Oh Harry this is just so sudden.' Hermione blushed, 'yeah. Real sudden.'
She pulled back, forcibly, from the squabbling schoolboys to think. It wasn't that easy, for what girl wouldn't want to watch two cute guys fight over her? But something odd was really bugging her, and its name wasn't Rita Skeeter. 'How is it that I was all too eager to jump Malfoy's bones earlier? And now Harry is all of a sudden acting cavemanly around me? Not to mention Malfoy STILL was to get into my pants.' Deep in thought, she reached down to try to tug the uncomfortable material from her posterior. 'OH! THAT'S IT! It's the PANTS!' she figured out gleefully.
"So we agree then?"
"Seems like the most satisfying solution. And the one she doesn't like leaves, no questions asked."
Hermione jerked back to the present as she saw Draco and Harry shake hands. "Huh?" The two boys looked her over lecherously and an un-easy feeling tingled down her spine. "Oh no. Umm.. guys. Ah.. I'm not that kind of girl." She gulped and soon enough was once more running away as fast as she was able.
She was tired. She was sorely chaffed. She was sick and tired of being gawked at like some starving man's feast. She needed a place to hide, and get these damned pants off; but where wouldn't they think to look for her? The most likely place, the Divination classroom, was too hard to get to. 'Ah! Yes! I know! I just hope it's empty.'
A few quick turns and Hermione's pursuers were lost from sight. Taking this advantage she headed straight for the only other place she'd never really want to go. Professor Snape's Potions Classroom.
'Please don't be there! Please don't be there! Please don't be there? Yes! Empty!' she smiled and barricaded the door with Snape's desk. Finally a moment to herself, she began to wrestle with the leather prison, attempting to get them off. She managed, with much pain filled difficulty, to get the horrid britches down past her bottom when a noise behind her stated she wasn't as alone as she had first diagnosed.
Poor poor Hermione Granger froze. She had completely forgotten about the potion ingredients storage room. A room she should've recalled, seeing as how she'd snuck into it before when pilfering some ingredients back in her second year. But she had been too desperate and distracted to recall its existence. So there she stood, trapped in the cursed leather pants, mooning the sinister and down right snarky Severus Snape.
Severus was at a loss. He had innocently come out of his storeroom, after doing some much needed inventory, to discover the most peculiar sights. One, his desk's new location up against the door; and two, a nice round cheeky bottom peering up at him from above a fashionably well tailored and stylish pair of black leather pants. Put in the knowledge that said backside belonged to, none other than, know-it-all Hermione Granger, and you have one Severus Anton Snape at a complete loss for words.
"Uh.. This isn't what it looks like sir."
Snape just raised his brow. "Oh really Miss. Granger. I would never have guessed."
Flushing Hermione attempted the impossible. She tried to force the tight leather back up after it was already halfway down. Needless to say, it didn't so much as budge an inch. Though she did end up treating him to a very interesting show. Right up to when she fell over onto her face.
Now Snape knew quite well that most, if not all, of the student population at Hogwarts would love to moon their surly potions master. It was right up there with kicking Mrs. Norris. Snape also knew that no one was dumb enough to do it, as it was impossible to not get caught, and the punishment would be horrifying to say the least. And in Miss. Good-two-shoes Granger's case, she was by far to smart to purposefully barricade herself in with him, if she were so inclined to pull such a prank. No there had to be another logical reason why she was wiggling her ass in his direction. He just couldn't quite see what it could be.
Or at least, he didn't want to see if it was That reason. For she was quite pretty; and she was quite intelligent; and her lush little behind was quite tempting; but no, No it couldn't be That reason.
Hermione gave up. There was no way she could get herself safely out of this one. The leather pants curse was just too powerful and was staying right where it was. How could she possibly break it unless… well it was worth a shot.
"Um, professor? Would you help, please?" she startled him by talking. "This isn't THE most comfortable of positions."
"Ah… and what pray tell are you asking of me, Miss. Granger." He quarried, curious.
"Well I was rather hoping you'd get right down and take my pants off." She supplied.
'Oh Merlin! It IS That reason!?' Severus thought franticly. 'There isn't much doubt. She did just ask me to finish undressing.. well de-pantsing.. ah. What do I do?' he flushed, embarrassed. 'This can't be happening. Not to Me.'
Before either student or teacher could do anything, though, there was a rather insistent knocking upon the door.
"Professor?" two familiar voices called through.
Hermione freaked. "eep! I'mnothere! I'mnothere!!" she squealed quietly and caterpillar crawled over to Snape and hid herself under his robes.
Now Snape was turning even redder. There was no doubt left, it HAD to be That reason. All the evidence was collected, and the verdict was out. Hermione fancied her potions professor.
It was hard for Snape to concentrate, what with his student moving under his robes, touching him. For like many males of the wizarding community, he was neither a boxers nor briefs kind of person.
"Get rid of them!" Hermione commanded and whilst she had her hands clenched around his bare thighs, he wasn't about to disobey her.
"What is it!" Snape growled at the door.
"Um professor. Your door's locked."
"Brilliant deduction Potter!" Snape snarled in return.
"Let ME do the talking! He prefers me over you anyhow." Draco butt in. "Professor! You wouldn't, by any chance, have seen that sexy little mud blood Granger would you?"
Now Severus Snape was far too intelligent to let Malfoy's "sexy mud blood" comment go un-noticed. He was also smart enough to know that Potter and Malfoy working 'together' was quite out of the norm. Unfortunately Hermione's bushy hair was brushing him, almost teasingly, so all he actually paid attention to was what was going on under his robes.
"NO! NOW BUGGER OFF!" he shouted fiercely and was pleasantly rewarded by the sounds of their frantic and clumsy fleeing.
"Are they gone?" Hermione asked, lifting up the hem of Severus' robe.
"Yes, very." He assured her as she slithered her way back out.
Once back out in the open, Hermione was confused as to what to do now. Snape, though, appeared to have come to a decision. He wasn't going to have mad monkey sex with the young woman at his feet. It was Much too soon for That. But, he wasn't about to let her feel un-appreciated, not after all her hard work in coming there to seduce him. So he was going to go for something in between. Satisfaction for both parties concerned. Bending over he gathered the lost girl up in his arms and sat them down, with her on his lap.
"Uh.. Professor?" Hermione began but was silenced by the soft brush of his finger across her lips.
"Just. Relax." He purred before putting his marvellously talented hands to work.
This was not what Hermione had expected. Not that, mind you, she had expected to get frisky with the school's top muggle-born hater, chased around in borrowed tight leather pants, fought over by her best friend, and then fingered Fantastically by her Master of Potions-and-other-things-apparently, when she had awoken that morning. Then again, she didn't seem to be too bothered by what he was doing to her in-experienced body. She wreathed and bucked and screamed out joyously until her narrowed world exploded and she passed out, with a satisfied sigh.
Hermione came to, surrounded by comfortable warmth. Sluggishly she opened her eyes and sat up in the strange bed. She saw her clothes, neatly folded, on the chair beside her as if they had been waiting patiently for her notice. Looking down she was relieved to find herself, not naked, but wearing a modest periwinkle blue nightgown. Now if only she could answer the where and how.
Those answers came quickly enough as Severus walked into the room. "Ah, so you've awakened at last." He said, causing Hermione to clutch the comforter hard.
'Uh oh.' She though, 'This is Not going to be an easy explanation.' She worried over how her vindictive professor would handle the curse's after effects, and just how many points Gryffindor would loose. 'Well, at least the pants are off.'
Severus strode over to her and smiled, softly, and startling her enough to stop opening her mouth in order to try and save her hide. "I had dinner sent here; figuring you'd be hungry seeing as how you've slept through it." He told her in a gentle tone. Hermione just blinked, though her stomach rumbled its appreciation.
Still somewhat stunned, but relived to say the least, Miss. Granger enjoyed a nice quiet dinner with her potions professor. They chatted about the little things and laughed at each other's quips. Until it was high time she was on her way back to the tower and her own bed. Gathering her things in her arms, she walked with Snape to the door, thanking him for a wonderfully memorable evening.
Severus brushed her face lightly before gracing her with a kiss. "Anytime, Hermione. Goodnight." He said.
"Night." She answered and watched stupidly as he closed the door. 'Wow! I never would've… thought… and with Snape of all people! Ah well it was awful nice.' With a light skip to her step the pensive young Gryffindor began her trek back to her room.
Luck seemed to be with her as she managed to make the journey without bumping into the cranky old caretaker, Filch, nor his tattletale familiar. It didn't last though. No matter how hard she wished, her two persistent suitors were waiting for her outside the Fat Lady's portrait.
'Damn! So much for sneaking in and forgetting most of today ever happened.' She moaned as Draco and Harry jumped to their feet. 'Well best get this over with.'
"Listen, see, we just wanted to apologise for how we acted today." Harry started, elbowing Malfoy before he could roll his eyes. "I don't really know what came over us."
"Uh… its okay, really." Hermione gestured, as it really wasn't their fault. Well a tad on Malfoy's side, but Harry was totally innocent.
Draco brushed Harry aside and got right into Hermione's space. "Listen here Granger! I'M not apologizing for Nothing! We had a bit of fun for a while. Its not my problem if You're just not ready for a real man yet." He told her, "So, when you decide 'Today's the Day!' … Look me up!"
Hermione flushed. Whether from what emotion exactly she wasn't quite sure, but the irony of the situation was laughable. "Um.. Thanks… Malfoy. I think."
Nodding smartly he turned to leave but paused at the last moment. "Are you going to give me back my pants anytime soon, Mud blood?"
"Can't I keep them?" she hedged, "You know, like a souvenir?"
Draco shrugged and walked off, letting her keep the leather pants. One could almost see his ego beginning to inflate just a little as he started his way back to the Slytherin quarters. He didn't care if she wanted to keep the pants; after all, it wasn't as if he didn't own other pairs.
She felt vastly relieved. Now there would be no problems of keeping the cursed pants safe from the hands of others. She mused lightly at being labelled 'the keeper of Draco's Cursed Leather Pants', but shook the absurd thought away as Harry vied for her attention.
"Say Mione, I am really sorry." He told her, as they climbed into their common room. "For acting like such a.."
"Neanderthal?" she supplied grinning, "Relax Harry. I said it was all right. Besides, it was also kind of sweet, in an old world kind of way."
The two friends chuckled as they settled down into the familiar camaraderie they were used to. All seemed well once more. They kidded around for a while longer before parting ways to sleep.
"You really did look good in those pants today." He smiled, a nice rouge tinting his cheeks, "but you look good in everything you wear." With that, he dashed up the stairs, leaving the lightly blushing girl behind.
Hermione Granger smiled as she wandered back up to her room. 'Soo many romantic possibilities? Hmm… which one should I choose?' she mused, and eagerly began counting the days until graduation until sleep finally claimed her.
Now for the cursed pants' fate? Well like so many other leather pants before it, they were stuffed in the forgotten corner of the closet, never to see the light of day again. A pity you'd think, but such is the fate of many a fashionable piece of clothing. To be worn once and then never again.
Until one day, many many years later, the owner will be cleaning out said closet and come across them. Then the only powers these fine old leather trousers will possess is that of reminding her of the good old days, and bring out an amused chuckled. Which will then lead to a very insane thought.
About getting another pair.