Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Better Than The Fairer Sex	By : Solenthis Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 28500 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from the Harry Potter Fandom or its characters.

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It was upon a crash landing that Hermione opened her eyes. Coughing, sore, she stood and tried to get her bearings. She could see the fireplace that had spewed her forth, ornately carved with lifelike stone female centaurs flanking the flames within. Above the fireplace was a portrait of Madame Saint-Clair in a dress with a matching brooch; both were midnight blue. Hermione would have continued taking in her surroundings, except for the loud “Ahem!” that now grabbed her attention.

Hermione turned and felt her jaw drop. Before her(Or would it be that she was before them?)was a class of twenty-five witches. It barely registered that they ranged in race, in age; Hermione was having enough trouble coming to grips with where she had landed. The only small comfort Hermione found was that these girls appeared to be just as shocked as Hermione herself. All, that is, except for their teacher.

She was fair skinned, hair the color of rust. She was slender but by no means skinny. Her skin seemed to have a sheen to it, as though someone had rubbed her down with a polishing rag. Her intense green eyes flash with surprise at first, but this soon gave way to irritation.

“Just what it this aboot, then?” the teacher asked.

Hermione wasn’t sure what she had just heard. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you say?”

“I said, what is this aboot?” she said again, flaring.

“What this is about,” Hermione said, mockingly correcting someone that, too late, she realized might be one of her teachers, “is that I’m supposed to be on a tour of the school with the Headmistress, but I think I’m lost.”

“Indeed.” The teacher approached, stopping with only a foot between them. “You can take comfort in knowing that this happens all of our new students. I’ll call for the Headmistress and you can be on your way.” She quickly turned and sent one of the students out the door; she then turned her gaze back on Hermione. “What is your name, girl?”

Hermione wasn’t sure she liked where this was going, but answered anyway. “Hermione Granger, Professor—“ was all she got before the woman’s shrill laugh cut her off. She quietly waited for the teacher to stop before finishing, “—Of Sussex, England.”

“Yes, well, Hermione,” the teacher said, “This isn’t England, and I’m no professor. You may call me Ms. Erikson. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I do not tolerate petulance out of any student, but I especially don’t appreciate a new student making fun of my accent. I suggest that you think twice the next time such an idea should enter your head.” Her eyes narrowed and her voice grew cold as she finally said, “Are we clear, Ms. Granger?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” was Hermione’s reply.

“Already making quite a first impression, I hear,” Madame Saint-Clair mused as she and Hermione entered her office. It had taken fifteen minutes for them to make the journey and in that time, Hermione had told her everything that had transpired in Ms. Erikson’s classroom. Her face was beet red, even now. The Headmistress could only smile. “What she said is true; this sort of thing really does happen to all of our new students. But I think this is the first time that one has had a run-in with a teacher before she was officially a student here. Congratulations, Hermione, you have set a school record.”

“I’m so embarrassed, Professor,” Hermione groaned.

Madame Saint-Clair paced slowly about the office as she spoke again. “Do not worry about it, Hermione. Worse things have happened.” She stopped at a mirror to check her makeup, but moved on as it was fine. “Besides,” she said, “it’s time for your tour.”

Hermione felt excitement at this, until a dread suddenly hit her. “What happens after the tour is over?” she hesitantly asked.

The Headmistress’ reply surprised Hermione. “That is up to you, Cherie. You will go home once the tour is concluded, and find another school to attend. Or, should you decide that you do want to be here, we can move you in immediately; we will even send house elves to pick up your belongings.

“Now then, let’s go.”

The tour was fantastic. Every hall seemed to have its own rich history(the Transfiguration wing had once been the site of a major battle against Morgan Le Fey, while the Herbology wing was rumored to have been drafted by Merlin himself.) In addition to learning about the history and the quirks of the school, Hermione was already learning a few things about some of her teachers. For example, Ms. Erikson, as it turned out, really was a professor but didn’t like to be addressed so; incidentally, Hermione discovered that the reason she had had trouble understanding her through her accent was that the woman was Canadian.

But of everything on the tour, the best part was the student body. Everywhere Hermione looked, girls her own age as far as the eye could see. British, French, German, American—even some female centaurs and satyrs were going to and from class; one of the satyrs even came over and said hello(she had introduced herself Lila.) before running off again.

Hermione didn’t need to think this over for even a second. As of this moment, she was now a student at the International School of Witchcraft.
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