This choice: Harry realised his clothes were vanishing. • Go Back...Chapter #8Harry realised his clothes were vanishing. by: Mr. George   "You know what I despise...." Hermione growled, angrily at Harry.
He scrambled for the bag, for the book, terrified at the appearance of Bellatrix, and the tone of Hermione's voice. Unfortunately, it was already too late.
Petrificus Totalus...
The spell shot from Hermione's wand, leaving him frozen. Only his eyes were able to move, and he felt Hermione's hand slip over his body, giving his crotch a playful squeeze. Bellatrix appeared to be happy just to watch Harry's torture.
Hermione shrugged, "No answer." She snorted dismissively, "Even if you weren't petrified, I doubt you'd have an answer."
She stepped back from Harry, straightening up, but careful to still be visible to the powerless Gryffindor.
"It's the double standard. You like Ron can be lazy, and skip your school work, and that's just dismissed as boyish immaturity." Her voice hardened, "But if I did that, I'd be a bimbo, and when I don't I'm dismissed as a bookworm.... Hell, even by other women." She snarled, the thought of Professsor Trelawney's words still painful after all these years.
"And on top of that I still need to take more care of myself, to look my best. Compelled to ... Yes... compelled..." Her voice now distracted, as her thoughts shifted from her angry outburst, as an idea formed, as a potential lesson started to form.
Leaning in close, she kneeled down in front of him, she gently kissed Harry on the tip of his frozen nose.
"I'm being unfair. How could you possibly understand? You've not had that experience! You've not been held to these standards yourself. But I can help you there."
Rocking back to rest on her heels, she tapped him on the nose with the glowing tip of her wand. "There..." she smiled triumphantly.
Harry couldn't see what was happening, but he felt his uniform disappear. As the chill of the room became clearer, he felt it more and more. His chest felt especially susceptible. Aching with an unexpected strength.
Bimboficus...
Harry felt different, his thoughts hazier, harder to catch. A stray lock of hair fell across his face, and he wondered how his hair had become so messy, so untidy.
Finite Incantatem.
Harry let out a sigh of relief, the games were over. It was a relief just to be able to move, rising to his feet, he discovered that it was only his paralysis that was over. Summoning a mirror, Hermione let Harry drink in the changes.
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Harriet preened and posed instinctively, even as she fought to control her body, it was beyond her. It just felt right, and natural. She had the body, so why not show it off. Even that scar, looked cuter, the application of make-up, both hiding and enhancing it.
"Harriet Juicy Potter." Hermione taunted, one arm snaking around her waist, her fingers teasing the lacy edges of her panties.
"Its Jane... not Juicy." Harriet protested. She gasped, surprised both at her voice, it's girlish indignation, and at her protest. Her name wasn't Jane.... None of her names were Jane. She was a boy. She blushed at the thought, at what that meant, her hand darting reassuring her of the lovely flat crotch, not bulging and boyish. But still it felt wrong... Jane wasn't really her name... was it?
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