Kissed by Fire

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George R.R. Martin and J.K. Rowling.

A/N: As usual, don't like, don't read. I didn't get paid anyway, so I don't have much time to deal with your bullshit. Cheers.
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Chapter 3
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Sunspear, 270 AC

Clack! Clack! Clack!

The sound of two wooden swords colliding had been the norm for the past two years. Doran, when on his tour of the Free Cities had stumbled upon Water Dance competition and thought it would suit his sister fighting style, so he hired Syrio Forel, a bald and thin Braavosi man who was also a former First Sword of Braavos, chief protector of the ruler of Braavos and sent him to Sunspear. The man had gushed that she was a Water Dance's prodigy after he spar with her the first time, especially when she throw her practice sword to the air, dodging his attack, catching the sword mid-air and then used it again to counteract his next blow. Of course she couldn't tell him it was because she had been a rhythmic gymnast for four years before Hogwarts in her first life with specialties in clubs and ribbon, so moves like that wasn't foreign for her. To her, the water dance is like a combination between fencing and gymnastics moves.

Hermione saw an opening as she feinted to the left then move quickly to the right as she hit the sword on the base of her teacher's skull, a move that could kill him should it had been a real sword. Master Syrio gasped, but then laughed as he admitted his defeat.

"Bravo! Bravo! Always a pleasure to teach you, Princess Maya." He complimented her.

"You're too kind, Master Syrio."

"No, no, no. You have more than deserved it, Your Grace." He denied. "Now, I think that would be all for the day. It was such a nice day, too. I'm sure you'll find more exciting activities to enjoy your day." He suggested.

The girl smiles. "Thank you, Master Syrio. I think I will take you up on that. Maybe a walk in the city is due."

She bids him goodbye to take a quick dip in the bathtub, before getting ready for her excursion. Crookshank waited patiently on top of her bed for her to get ready.

"Come, Crooks." Hermione called her Shadowcat who growled happily at his mistress. The beast had grown since, and now was at astoundingly twelve feet long, five foot height from head to toe and weight at least six hundred pounds. Hermione had to reinforced her bed several times with magic as to not break with how big her familiar had become, so big that she could easily mount the cat like he was a horse. He was even larger than any Shadowcat people had reportedly seen in the wild, thought Hermione blamed it on regular food and of course, her magic. She, through her familiar bond, had accidentally fed the cat magic, making him smarter and stronger. He can also feel her mood, and could track each other easily through the bond.

As they walk around the market, they were greeted warmly by the common folks. There are still some wary glance over her Shadowcat, but mostly from foreign merchant or people who visited the city, while the town's people look at the beast like some kind of hero.

It started when one night, Crookshank was prowling around the city. He had heard a scream and shot out to the source's direction. He found a young girl almost raped by a drunken young man. Crookshank had bitten his arm, scaring the man so much that he pissed himself before fainting. The city's night guard had found them like that and taken the man into custody. His arm had to be amputated to save his life as it was crushed beyond repair by the Shadowcat's jaw. Hermione thought it was a just punishment so he can't place his hand where it doesn't belong. The girl Crooks saved, then spread the word about her Savior, and 'The Beast of Dorne' had become the town's favorite. He would sometimes join the night patrol and the men didn't really mind. In fact, they thought he was a great help as he could hear trouble from miles away. Hermione, too, didn't mind. At least he found something worthwhile in his spare time.