When Redrum had first appeared in her office, Freya had been relatively certain of what she was here for. The Council was getting impatient with the progress regarding the male-
Freya paused, shaking her head.
She was better than that, or at least better than the others.
Mr. Granger.
They were getting impatient with her progress with Mr. Granger. He'd only visited the bank once, and while that had gone well, he hadn't been back since.
As a teacher, it was easy for Freya to understand, honestly. The poor boy was dealing with more 'events' than he rightfully should have to. If Ruby thought the rest of the staff didn't know about the Dragon girl they'd fished up, then she was either a fool or just willfully ignorant.
… Most likely the latter, knowing Ruby.
The Half-Giant Woman understood more than she let on, most of the time. She just had the good sense to keep her mouth shut when speaking would only cause problems.
As a teacher, she felt for the boy, truly. He had been nothing short of an exemplary student, kind to his peers, and studious. She couldn't ask for a better student, and she suspected that when the current Head Boy, a rather stoic lad by the name of Elijah, aged out, she would ask him if he would like the position.
As a goblin, on the other hand, she completely agreed.
There was a deep, hidden part of herself that snarled and bared its teeth when another student, especially a female student, spoke with the man. She held the urge back every time she saw him to simply kidnap the boy and lock him in her estate. To invite her sisters over and just-
Freya moaned aloud, blinking as she realized a hand had crept into her blouse, rolling one of her thick nipples, while the other massaged her crotch through her pants.
She looked towards the other two in the room. They'd just started their training, and she had hopes Redrum would be successful. She didn't want to risk their chances of success, so she withdrew her hand, biting her lip. Her sharp teeth dug into the green flesh, drawing red blood.
She'd been initially hesitant to cooperate with the Horde when they'd approached her. There was bad blood there. Frankly, there still was, but Goblins were nothing if not mercantile. Everything was something to be bought and sold. Nearly.
Their hatred of her, their grudge, were just part of the concessions she'd received for helping them secure Mr. Granger.
For something she was already going to do, their assistance was welcome. Having to share…
Honestly, she didn't mind it. It felt good to be part of the Horde again.
Through the year, these sides of her were constantly at war, the question of whether to be a good teacher or a good goblin contesting in her mind. She'd put off deciding as much as she could, until…
Freya glanced at the two again, before taking a handful of her breasts and mauling it, as she went back to grinding her mound with her hand.
.
----------->
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The teacher part of her wished that Mr. Granger hadn't shown up today, but…
A smile spread across her face as she gave in to her instincts, eying the boy's unmoving form.
The Goblin side of her had finally won out.
-x-X-x-
She held herself back, the first time. Not out of any sense of propriety, but because she wanted to be sure that everything was working as intended.
She'd thought Redrum competent enough to get the job done. Mr. Granger was a studious boy and skilled in magic, but ultimately, he was still a first-year, lacking years of experience.
It should have been easy for the other goblin to overpower him and implant some suggestion to help them in their task.
She'd had the other swear to avoid anything directly harmful or obvious, but something as simple as visiting the bank more often would work fine for their purposes.
But of course, Freya's faith in her own race once again proved to be a mistake. When the two came out of the trance, Mr. Granger seemed to be completely the same; meanwhile, Redrum was avoiding her gaze.
The second time, the two of them sat down, and Freya gave her comrade a look when her student wasn't looking. Redrum gave her one much the same, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes.
Teaching Degree, Dueling Champion, more wealthy than many of the other goblins in the Horde, and her half-blood status still caused others to dismiss her opinions.
Instead of getting angry, though, she simply took a deep breath and calmed herself. She could figure out some sort of comeuppance later; for now, the two of them were allies.
The two went under again, and Flitwick once again found herself alone.
Only this time…
She didn't bother to hide her grin, wide, exposing sharp teeth. A low rumble rose in her throat, and she embraced the feeling of her goblin instincts taking over in the presence of a viable male. Her eyes dilated, and she could practically feel her womb lowering, opening in response to the possibility of insemination.
While those two played, Freya planned to have some fun herself.
Creeping forward, indulging herself in some minor stalking behavior, since no one was around to see.
Moving up to the boy, she crouched down, taking only a single glance to confirm he was still out before fishing out her prize.
It only took a few moments for Freya to undo his pants, his dick flopping out at full mast and twitching. The warmth of his shaft against her face, with his balls brushing against her lips, was heavenly.
The charms professor indulged herself, taking a long whiff of the aroma, feeling her mouth and pussy, water.
.
------------>
.
Human.
She didn't waste any time, opening her mouth wide, and making sure her teeth were out of the way, with ease that came from practicing on a toy each night since she'd met her student, Freya Flitwick swallowed the dick in one go.
"Oomph"
.
---------->
.
Her eyes watered as she slowly pushed herself to swallow more and more of his length. Soon enough, she her nose pushed into her students pubic hairs, and her throat was wrapped tight around his length as she did her level best to swallow him further.
It was hard to maintain any sense of decorum like this. Her goblin instincts, already inflamed, were screaming at her to get to the breeding process. To obtain the human seed. To breed.
Thankfully, the human side of her had the sense that a bit of foreplay first was in order.
Pulling back, she shuddered happily at the feeling of his length leaving her throat, before, just as the head of his cock settled on her tongue, and she suckled it happily, she dived back in, taking him all again.
The boy let out a groan, but otherwise didn't react, as his Charms Professor began facefucking herself onto his dick.
Before long, Freya could feel him twitching in her mouth, and dived forward one last time, her own thighs pressing together as she came in time with her husband student, his load being deposited straight into her stomach.
She held there for a moment before pulling back.
The feeling of his warm seed resting in her gut was heavenly, and she burped slightly, giggling as his softening cock smeared a mixture of semen and her own saliva onto her cheek. She licked it away easily, dexterous tongue ghosting over his dick as she did.
She rested there for a moment, her midsection throbbing with need. She held off, though, and instead stood, fixing his pants and her top, and moving back to her seat.
When they woke up again, Freya's happiness was dampened by Redrum's sheer incompetence.
Seriously! He was a first-year!
Freya was under the impression that this Goblin was good at what she did.
Still, the other had one more chance. Herman didn't seem to suspect her of anything as they engaged in the last round.
Freya only waited for a single moment, nibbling her lip, before giving in.
If he hadn't woken up the first time, surely he wouldn't this time.
As Freya approached, she stripped off her clothing, one piece at a time, leaving it carelessly on the floor behind her. If she were asked about it, the Charms professor might actually describe the experience as almost spiritual in nature.
To become one with her ancestry, and properly take a human male. She took off her coverings and just rode.
It felt freeing, in a way. Right. She wondered if this was what humans felt when they climbed trees.
When she finally reached her target, she got his pants off with now familiar speed, and admired her target for a moment.
Her tongue ached to taste it again, but a different set of lips called louder.
Bracing her foot on his chair, she clambered on top of the taller figure, planting her feet on his thighs and her hands on his shoulders, and looked down as she carefully aligned herself.
There was a moment of silence, where she could feel his cock head kiss her pussy lips, and shuddered. She could see the passed-out Redrum between her own legs, the full-blooded goblin's figure blocked by the dick she was about to take.
Freya grinned.
"Suck it, bitch." She muttered to herself before dropping herself onto her Human's dick, spearing herself as deeply as she could.
The instant-orgasm she had was heavenly, and a silly smile came onto her face as her goblin biology had her recover hyper fast.
"More~" She intoned with a smile before beginning to bounce properly.
The lewd sound of Freya Flitwick getting absolutely cored by her students' humie cock filled the room, and she was struck by the thought, momentarily, of what might happen should a student walk in.
That thought was quickly overruled by the thought of what might happen if he came inside her.
She bounced faster.
"Breed me, Herman. Fuck me. Put Goblets inside me. Give me children. Take me like the little Goblin slut I am." She called as she bounced, the dirty talk more for her own benefit than his.
Soon enough, any words she wanted to say devolved into perverted grunting as Freya obscenely bounced her hips, each hit having her substantial ass clap together, filling the room with wet slapping sounds and loud clapping, as she stared into her husband's face adoringly.
He was truly handsome. Perfect jawline, beautiful hair.
And his eyes were especially nice.
Wait…
She blinked.
Eyes?
Her student blinked awake, staring at her as she bounced.
She didn't stop; her body had given too far to her natural instincts at this point, but she did manage to find her voice.
"E-eh! Herman!"
-x-X-x-
Freya Flitwick watched as her student looked up at her, blinking his eyes. He looked slightly confused at the sight, and only for a split second did Professor Flitwick feel a moment of regret.
He was her student, after all. She wished she had the time to do this courting properly.
And then her Goblin side reared its head, empowered by the cock currently rearranging her insides. With the pushing of the council, Redrum's presence, and the current situation, could anyone really blame her for taking advantage?
It was just her Goblin instincts after all. Her heritage.
Vaguely, she could recall something her father once told her about her mother, but the thought slipped away as she continued bouncing.
"Professor. Are you taking advantage of me?" She heard. She refocused, but it was hard as the human pheromones flooded her brain.
She twitched; she tried to pause, but found her legs were unwilling to listen to her.
Instead, she did her best to talk as she moved. It was hard, her voice escaping her each time she felt his length bump against the back of her pussy.
"I- ah I'm just- ngh I'm sorry Herman, it's just-" She paused, slamming down as she felt an orgasm wrack her body. She tried to raise her hips again, mind blank, but was stopped when a strong pair of hands landed on her hips.
"Let's hold on for a second, professor." He said, kindly. His smile was teasing. "I'm a little bit offended that you just went and did this without even getting me flowers first." The joking tone was there, but something in his words hit through the haze, and she blinked up at him lazily.
"I'm… uh." She paused, a bit lost in her own arousal, and the sensation of having her hubandstudenthusband buried inside her. "Well…"
Behind her, Redrum slowly stirred to life, a string of drool running down her chin. She blinked awake, looking to her left and right, before spotting Flitwick and Herman's… situation.
Her reaction was… enthusiastic, to say the least.
"Huh… eh?! Freya!" She shouted suddenly, standing. "I wanted to go first!"
For some reason, the sound of Redrum's voice was unpleasant enough to cut through the fog, and Freya's back stiffened, and she turned as best she could while still impaled on her Student's dick to glare.
"Back off, you incompetent bitch." She snarled in Goblegook. Translated, it was somewhat tame, but to be called incompetent as a goblin, it was one of their worst curses, and her human side immediately felt bad for using such language in front of her student.
Redrum reared back, as if slapped, mouth opening to say something in response. Freya ignored her altogether, simply glaring before she turned back to Herman.
Despite not really feeling very sorry about her actions, she understood, as a Professor, that she may have crossed a line here.
Neither her human side nor her goblin side wanted him to hate or resent her. That'd be against all of her goals.
"Sorry for springing this on you." She stuttered out, trying her best to meet his eyes and avoid moaning, and she felt every twitch of his shaft inside her. "I just… couldn't help myself." She tried to do her best to enunciate her reasoning. He deserved that much.
"What are you trying to explain, Freya? Just keep going! Be a real Goblin for once in your life." Redrum snarked behind her, arms crossed. Freya ignored her.
She was just as Human as she was Goblin, after all.
"I… Goblin's react… strongly to human pheromones, and the council's been sending people, and I know it was messed up, but I let it happen, and I wasn't thinking straight-" She rambled. "I really should have asked first. I'm sorry- Whoah!"
Her words were cut off when Herman suddenly stood, bringing her with him, still impaled on his length, and carrying her over to the desk.
She was placed down gently and whined as he pulled himself out. His hands were still on her shoulder, though, and she looked up at him as he smiled back.
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--------->
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"I know a way you can make it up to me, Professor~," He teased her entrance. "Want to know how?"
Suddenly on the back foot and still very horny, Freya whimpered at the question.
"H-how?" She breathed out.
He leaned forward, even as Redrum watched like a voyeur, to whisper in her ear.
"Beg."
Freya blinked once, then twice, and then smiled widely.
"Please, Herman. Fuck me. Breed me. I've wanted it since I saw you that first day."
His hands tightened before he thrust his hips forward, and Freya was seeing stars.
It was once again difficult for Freya to speak, or even think properly, as she was fucked by her Husband.
Her student.
…
She'd figure it out later; the point was, with her on her back, staring up at the ceiling as Mr. Granger used his grip on her shoulders to thrust as fast as he could into her, it was hard to successfully string together words and even thoughts properly.
Not that she really needed to. Freya understood that she'd probably have much to discuss and explain with the young man after this fact, but at the moment, those professional thoughts seemed very far away.
Instead, she was mostly focused on not moaning too loudly, biting her lip as hard as she could, for fear of another student entering her classroom and hearing.
She couldn't quite remember if any of them had remembered to cast a silencing charm on the door.
Mr. Granger had originally had his hands on her shoulders, and her instincts had her expecting that grip to slowly transfer to her hips, to get a better angle for thrusting, instead, though-
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------------>
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"E-eh!?" She stuttered out as the Human's hands slipped away from her thick shoulders, drifting across her arms and leaving goosebumps. Instead of grabbing hold of her hips- 'Natural fuck handles on every Goblin '-her mind whispered, the human's hands slipped into her own, pinning her to the desk and intertwining their fingers together.
This is-
That-
Handholding?!
It felt so juvenile, yet Freya's cheeks were bright red as she did her best to meet his eyes. The feeling of his hands, large, warm, smooth, wrapped around her own smaller fingers, was different than everything she had expected.
It wasn't a pleasure. It didn't add to the mind-numbing warmth that spread through her body every time he parted her depths. The pleasure that burned through her body with each movement wasn't changed.
But the way their hands were together made things seem so much more… personal, in a way. Freya couldn't help but blush as the Human leaned in. It felt too close. Too- Too-
Too lovey-dovey couple behaviour. It felt like he was properly courting her, and the half-goblin felt her cheeks burn red at the thought. Courting! Her! Of all people.
She could barely meet his eyes.
It got worse as, while still maintaining his languid, even thrusts, he leaned in close, lips ghosting against hers, before drifting over her cheeks to her ear.
"Professor~," He groaned. The sound of his voice, filled with the same pleasure she was feeling, had her squeezing down on his length involuntarily. "You're so beautiful."
Freya's eyes widened at the unexpected compliment.
"Ever since I met you, I have been thinking about how amazing you are. Intelligent, pretty, kind. You're nearly the perfect woman, professor."
His words hit her deeply, and she could feel her body react to his words, warming even further.
"Ah- H-Herman." She stuttered.
"Professor…" He breathed again before pausing. "Freya." She froze, hearing her name from his lips like that…
He pulled back, staring her in the eyes properly. They were intense, and she couldn't help but get lost.
"I'm close, Freya." He grunted. "Where do you want it?" The question seemed like it took extreme difficulty to ask, and that thread of regret came back, but she resolved to address it later, and it soon dissolved.
"I-inside." She gasped. "Inside Herman." She managed. She didn't notice the change in name from Mr. Granger to Herman.
He sped up, their hips meeting at such a high speed that the sound filled the office.
"Freya!" He gasped, one last time, before thrusting in roughly, bashing his length against the entrance to her womb one last time, prying it open, before starting to cum.
Freya wrapped her arms and legs around her lover, shuddering as she felt her inside get painted white.
"Herman!" She gasped back, grinding her hips against his length.
The two of them stayed like that for a moment, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence, before-
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------------->
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"That was hot." She said, grinning, before gesturing down at her own on display form. Freya glares. "How about seconds, stud. I've got some fresh, unbred Goblin for you." She offered Freya's student cheekily.
-x-X-x-
You gently placed your charms professor back onto her desk, taking the time to pry her limbs off of you. It was mildly difficult, given how reluctant she seemed to be to let go. Still, you managed it, despite her sleepy protests.
The sight of the freshly bred goblin tickled something inside of you. It looked correct, like seeing a Goblin be anything BUT bred was wrong.
You smiled. You also enjoyed just how happy Professor Flitwick seemed. You'd known the woman for over a month now, and from what you'd seen, she was a genuinely good Professor, but always seemed to carry a line of stress around with her.
Sometimes it faded. Like when she was teaching, or during deep conversation, but it never fully vanished, always there, eating at her.
Now, though, looking at her happy face, legs spread wide and leaking cum, she seemed completely and utterly relaxed.
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------------>
.
Frankly, it made you want to go back in for round two. Either that or pet her fluffy hair. One of the two.
As you were admiring your professor, an impatient voice spoke up from behind you.
"Hey! Stud, over here. You've still got work to do!"
You turned to face Redrum, your face smoothing into a neutral mask at her barking. She was already half-naked and smirked gleefully at your attention. You were instantly suspicious. You'd already managed to put together that she'd done something after all.
The first two suggestions, you'd managed to stop, but the last one…
Wincing, you raised a hand to massage your head.
You couldn't recall what the last suggestion was, which likely meant that you hadn't managed to stop it. You hadn't figured out what it was yet, but you didn't want to play around in case it was something truly bad.
Still, even with your suspicion, you couldn't help but find yourself admiring the red-headed goblin's body.
She was attractive. No more than any of the other Goblins you'd seen, aside from possibly having a particularly fetching shade of red hair, but for some reason, in that moment, you couldn't help but find her particularly…
…Breedable.
You felt your lower body slowly get flooded with blood, and your dick stirred to life. Something that didn't go unnoticed by your observer, who grinned widely.
"That's what I'm talking about." She turned around, planting her hands on a nearby shelf and nearly knocking over several fragile looking decoration Flitwick had there. "Now, let's get to it, Stud. I want at least six kids, and twins!" She demanded, waving her derriere back and forth.
.
----------->
.
You studied her for a moment.
There was an intense urge inside you to breed that Goblin ass thoroughly and give her the children she was demanding, but you didn't get to where you were by giving into urges willy-nilly.
Humanity was all about having a high mind beyond our instincts, and for the time being, you ignored your instincts in favor of thinking the situation over and considering.
You looked from Redrum to Flitwick, and then back again, hand on your chin.
"Hmm. Pass." You said simply, turning away from the redhead to Flitwick's still blissed-out form. Frankly, your professor was simply more appealing in every possible way at the moment, despite the breach of trust that she'd committed by being a part of this. The headache you had from turning away from the breedable goblin was minor and tolerable.
"What!?" Redrum squawked as you ignored her entirely for the half-breed she looked down on.
-x-X-x-
You would be lying if what you did next wasn't at least a little bit out of spite.
It wasn't entirely clear what Redrum had done to you, but you did know exactly what she tried to do.
And despite your current urge to fuck the red-haired Goblin into the nearest wall until she was leaking white, you weren't entirely fond of the fact that she had tried it at all.
Honestly, you weren't overtly fond of Flitwick, either, at the moment. You'd known that Redrum would be casting compulsions on you, but you had been under the impression that the compulsion would be A. Temporary, and B. Entirely harmless and nonsensical.
You were under the impression that this experiment and practice between the three of you was a learning experience, not another opportunity to get in your pants.
Frankly, if they'd just asked, you likely would have said yes.
You grunted, ignoring Redrum literally begging behind you, in favor of getting a better angle to plow into Flitwick. The moaning Goblin's white hair was gathered up into a single clump in your right hand, which you were using just a bit roughly, to get her to arch her back just right.
Your left hand came down onto the small of her back, pushing her down into an even more contorted position. You were relatively sure that human spines wouldn't bend as far as Flitwick was bending.
One of the perks of being a goblin, you supposed.
At the new angle, you were better able to thrust down, instead of forward, letting you drill even deeper into the professor's green cunt. You didn't hesitate to do so roughly.
…Frankly, you were also quite a bit frustrated with Flitwick. More so with Redrum, but… you'd trusted Flitwick. As a professor.
You weren't leaving here without fucking one of them, though. You could feel that down to your core, and you were particularly unhappy with Redrum at the moment so…
You were taking out your frustrations on Flitwick, though, even though it seemed like she was enjoying it enough herself, each thrust that split her green depths in two causing a happy mewl to echo from the dueling mistress.
It was like a… stress ball, in a way. You were treating her roughly because it was helping you get out your own pent-up frustrations, as well as the odd urge you had inside you upon seeing either of your current companions' green skin.
There would still need to be a serious talk with her after… and… when you were thinking clearly, you'd have to grapple with the fact that your professor was essentially just party to what could be considered a form of date-rape.
…
You tried to focus on thrusting more. Those thoughts were depressing.
The office was filled with the sound of Redrum's pleas, nearly drowned out by the 'PlapPlapPlap'ing of your hips against your professor's ass.
Soon enough, you could feel your end coming on, and, with a single grunt, you filled your Professor's womb for a second time today.
Pulling out, Flitwick slumped, stuck in that same position, your slowly softening cock hanging free, glistening with her juices.
Redrum practically lunged for it, but you turned away, pulling up your pants.
"Whelp, time for class!" You chimed cheerily, doing your best not to look at the Goblin, in case it would invoke any more… urges.
"Wait- Please- Just a taste!" She begged.
"Have a nice day, Ms. Redrum, Professor!" You responded, walking out the door.
At the last minute, you turned to see Redrum's face.
.
----------------->
.
"Wait, please fuck me too-" The door shut, cutting off the noise.
Sighing, satisfied, you turned to the rest of the room.
And then realized class was currently waiting for your professor.
And all of them, all twenty-three blushing witches, were staring at you, having heard Redrum's last cry.
You sighed before taking your seat, doing your best to ignore the looks.
-x-X-x-
The next class, despite the disclosure from Redrum, went relatively normally.
There were more than a few blushing glances thrown your way, but you did your best to ignore them, and the odd tugging whenever you looked at the unsteady Professor Flitwick at the front, who tried to teach the class but was unable to look at you for more than a few seconds without squeaking.
The next class was about the same, and the one after that. You only had to narrowly avoid a bucket of a questionable green liquid from Peeves in the hall, but other than that the excitement didn't really pick up.
That is, it didn't until the last class you had that day.
As you stepped into the Muggle Studies classroom, the day began to, once more, begin to get interesting in the worst sense of the word.
And by that you meant that, upon entering the classroom, there, at the front of the room, rather than Professor Burbage, one of the most blessedly normal people at the castle, you were treated to a much different figure.
.
----------------->
.
And not exactly a welcome one either, given the way her eyes locked onto you with a glare as soon as you entered the room.
What type of person just stood in that position anyway? It couldn't be comfortable, having your hips cocked like that for an extended period of time.
You stepped further into the room, seeing no other choice that wasn't immediately suspicious. She followed you with her eyes as she did. You were the second one into the class, the only other person there being-
.
-------------->
.
"Hi Herman!" Luna chirped brightly, smiling widely at you from her seat near the front of the room.
The seat at the same table that you always sat in. Next to your seat.
Of course.
You couldn't help but sigh as you walked forward. You could potentially choose another chair to sit in, but for some reason you felt that there would be consequences to spurning the smiling blonde.
Luna sometimes felt like an unstoppable force. You figured you'd just go along with the wind, this time.
"Hi Luna." You murmured as you sat. She seemed particularly happy today, if her expression was anything to go by. "Where's Professor Burbage?" You asked, as other students began filing in.
Luna wiggled happily in her seat, already shuffling closer to you in a way that she might think was subtle. "She had an appointment today. Professor Albus decided to have Ms. Flamel be our substitute."
Really?
A bit of doubt crept into you as you eyed the tall woman, who had finally stopped glaring at you specifically, and instead transferred her ire to the rest of the class. Normally you weren't one to question teachers, but-
"Are we sure she's…" You trailed off, "Are we sure she's qualified?"
Your impression of Professor Flamel wasn't exactly that of a person who was overtly experienced with the Muggle world.
"I do assure thee, Master Granger, I am sufficiently qualified to mete out detentions and dock points for insolence—most especially unto lecherous knaves such as thyself." You looked up, and she was there already. You hadn't even seen her move. Luna didn't even flinch at the sudden appearance.
You did your best not to glare, and instead put on your best customer service smile.
"Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean any disrespect."
She didn't seem to believe you for a moment, but the bell rang, which drew her back to the front of the room to start class.
-x-X-x-
As the final students found their seats, there was a dull chatter that slowly died down as Flamel stood at the front of the room, glaring down at the students who were still speaking.
The chatter was not, evidently, dying quickly enough for her liking, and Flamel brought a hand up and snapped her fingers.
BANG!!
There was a large crack, a plume of smoke, and you turned to look where two talking girls once were, only—
.
-------------->
.
'Squeak!'
Two small yellow chicks were all that remained at the table, alongside rumpled uniforms that slowly fell to the ground where the girls once stood. The small creatures hopped around, seemingly in distress, and one made for the wand one of the girls had placed down on the table before it was picked up by Flamel, who glared down at the two.
"I shall be taking these. Thou shalt have them returned unto thee at the lesson's end." The white-haired woman seemed to smirk at the two, although, with her face mostly covered, you were going off her eye movement. "And perchance I shall also remember to restore thee to thy proper forms. Perchance. Minerva may ever do so at day's end." She turned, heading back towards the front, before pausing.
"Only… beware of any cats."
She was definitely smirking; you could just see it.
Ignoring the now-frantic chirping, Flamel instead looked to address the room.
"Good afternoon, class. For those among thee who know me not, thou mayest call me Professor Flamel. This day, I shall instruct thee in Muggle Studies." She looked from face to face, only lingering for a moment on you before moving on. "The curriculum which was left unto me was…" She trailed off. "Disappointing. I shall remedy this by introducing mine own section concerning thy study of that subspecies of wizard known as the Muggle."
That… was not a great start.
Luna didn't look perturbed in the slightest, having just been, apparently, staring at you the entire time. At your glance, she brightened but didn't say anything. Murmurs arose, but at a sharp look from Flamel, they died instantly.
The two now-avian students were still very visible.
Flamel nodded at the silence.
"We shall begin this day with a discourse upon technology. Can any among thee define this term for me?"
A few hands went up, including your own. Flamel gazed at the options before pointing at a rather stocky Gryffindor, who always seemed to wear a shirt a few sizes too small.
She stood.
"Ah, Professor Flamel, technology is the term used by Muggles to describe their inventions—"
'Bang!'
Another small chick stood before the lot of you, but Flamel didn't give the transfigured student the time of day, instead turning back to the others.
"Wrong." She turned to the board, and a piece of chalk levitated off the easel. "Technology is that which Muggles employ to imitate magic. Write it down." She gestured, and the chalk began moving. "Technology is the imitation of magic."
That… didn't sound exactly correct. You wrote it down anyway, not wanting to draw her ire immediately.
Being Muggle-born, though, you didn't like where this was going.
"Now, let us discuss what the Muggles have thus far wrought with their vaunted 'technology.'"
Flamel reached under the table and, with a huff, pulled out a large bin of objects. One specifically, she reached in and withdrew.
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"This is the present pinnacle of Muggle technology," she began. "They call it 'The Iron.'" The way she said it made it sound much more dramatic than it was.
If she was just going to claim a rusted manual iron, the type you had to pour water into, was the 'height of Muggle technology,' then maybe you could tolerate this.
"They employ it to eliminate the runts of their litters, which they bear each winter."
Okay, what the fu—
You held your head in your hands, taking breaths and counting between them as you tried your best to not lose your temper.
Rare was an experience such as this before you came to the wizarding world.
You were white and came from a mainly French background. The only prejudice you had to deal with was in school for the fact that you were a really skinny kid growing up.
This, though, this was new to you. Intellectually you understood what it was, but to experience it, that was a different breed.
To have something about you be openly discriminated against, something you couldn't help, something you valued. To see it openly mocked, lied about, and misrepresented.
Yeah, that burned, just a bit.
Combine that with this woman's previous actions, and the way she acted throughout, and you could feel something you didn't often have well up inside you.
A burning, hot anger, like bubbling oil, moving up from your stomach and into your throat. It made you want to yell and vomit at the same time, and you swallowed heavily as you glared.
You weren't going to let this stand. You couldn't.
You stood from the table, the chair scraping the ground loudly behind you. Your wand was ready in your hand, in case she tried the same trick she had with the other students. Its tip was pointed directly at her.
If she wanted to play that game, you could respond.
"Professor Flamel, with respect, that's not correct."
With tense shoulders, you watched as Professor Flamel slowly turned to you. She didn't seem angry that you interrupted, and there was no snap or flick of her throwing a spell your way.
Instead, she seemed happy, and that made you more nervous than anything else.
"Oh, and does our Mr. Granger have something he wants to say, to correct the lesson?" She stepped forward. "Do you truly think you are more knowledgeable on this topic than I?" She asked, tilting her head, tone condescending.
You didn't let it get to you, and instead took the bait that was offered, nodding resolutely.
"I do, Ma'am." And then, because you were a dumbass with a bone to pick, you kept speaking. "I am reasonably sure that Rome, I hope you know what that is, had technology more advanced than that-" You nodded towards the Iron, "And less barbaric than you appear to think as well. The Muggles invented the train. The thing used to get students to and from Hogwarts." Your voice had taken on a lecturing tone, and out of the corner of your eye you could see some students writing down your words.
Flamel seemed less than impressed, though, and instead laughed in a way that had your shoulders rising.
"Trains…" She spat after a moment, all traces of humor gone. "A mistake of an invention, Mr. Granger. They only exist to weaken our next generation, cause pollution, and be generally noisy. Not useful to anyone." She sneered at you. "If you had been a better student, you might have known that I was only counting useful inventions."
She held up the iron.
"This is one of the few useful things Muggles have made over the centuries. It straightens clothing, and helps them reduce their populations ethically." She turned away. "Sit down, Mr. Granger, and you might actually learn something. Or maybe not. You are a Muggleborn after all."
You wondered about someone referring to another person being beaten to death with an iron as ethical, but dismissed it.
"I disagree."
She stiffened before turning.
"Excuse me? Mr. Granger, I told you to sit down."
"With respect, Professor, no. I will be frank, Professor-" and the inflection you put on that was sharper than any other time you'd spoken with a professor. "Frankly, I am reasonably sure that some of the Muggleborns in this class can help you, if you want, to actually teach it correctly."
"And why would I need that help, Mr. Granger?"
Her voice was dangerous.
You forged on. You could be dangerous as well.
"Miss, frankly I believe that a centaur, or perhaps a Hag, may have a better grasp on Muggle technology than you." You made a show of glancing at her, scanning her up and down. "…Well… a different Hag."
That seemed to finally do it, and her wand snapped up.
"Let's see how smart your mouth is when it's making comments a bit closer to home!" She snarled.
The spell flew at you fast. And it really was fast; the speed at which Flamel had flicked out her wand towards you, a flash of blue springing from the tip and hurtling through the air, had been stunning.
You were relatively sure that she didn't even use an incantation. Magic at that speed, as much as it galled you to admit, was impressive.
Still, it only made you prouder of yourself, for the fact that you managed to whip your own wand out from where it had been stored in your robe, that being your actual wand, and not a euphemism, to catch the spell midair with the tip.
From there it was a relatively simple method to just flick it back. Flamel, despite having already caught one spell like this from you, didn't seem to expect you to be able to catch a second, at least not with the surprise attack she had sprung, alongside the speed.
That meant that she was completely and utterly unprepared as her own spell impacted her figure, causing her to stumble back a few feet.
Interestingly enough, though, she didn't seem to change in the slightest, unlike the previous spells she cast. It didn't feel like transfiguration either.
You squinted at the Professor, who seemed slightly non-plussed herself, looking down and flexing her fingers as if expecting them to change.
Your own wand, resting in your palm, pulsed with warmth. The pink rosewood seemed to contrast against your palm even brighter, despite not actually emitting any light.
There was a moment of silence, where no one said anything, and then, as if satisfied that she was safe from any effects, Flamel straightened, her wand still in hand.
She turned towards you, glare forming on her face as she opened her mouth to speak-
"When I was but sixteen I kissed the local blacksmith's squib son. At 83 I kissed his son, and we cuddled together on the bed of straw after he had ended his own father." Flamel's eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth, as if shocked at her own words.
Your own eyebrows were raised. That hadn't been what you were expecting.
"I'm…. sorry?" you said after a moment, sending a glance towards Luna.
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The blonde girl just gave you a thumbs up.
Flamel, meanwhile, squinted before raising her wand, waving it once, and then twice, in a motion that you recognized as the dispelling spell. There was an odd pause after she did so, and a shiver wracked her body as the spell was cast.
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There was a choked noise from her, and for a moment, she looked confused, for a moment, before seeming to brush it off and turning back towards you.
She opened her mouth again.
"I once used Merlin's staff to-" She slapped a hand over her mouth, cutting off her next words. Her eyes were wide, and for a moment she genuinely looked fearful.
After a moment, she raised her wand, waving it once.
'Each of you take an item and write me eight inches before the end of class.'
By the time the message was finished, and the chalk dropped, Flamel seemed to be having trouble staying on her feet entirely, her knees knocking together, and her body slightly hunched over. There was an audible moan this time that she wasn't able to muffle, as she dealt with the aftershocks of… whatever was happening.
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Still in your hand, your wand pulsed in time, and for a second it almost felt like laughter.
Flamel made to go back to her seat, and a devious thought came to mind.
Could you have some fun with this?