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As panic gripped, Harry felt his manhood retreat into his body. Belatedly, his hands reached down to stop it, only to find a new sex forming there instead. Breathing in shallow pants, he felt his bust start to ripple. Taking on more heft with each breath.
But, that provided the focus that allowed Harry to attempt to wrestle control from his feverish imagination. His distracted fantasies were being made manifest. Taking a deep breath, he held it and tried to picture his bust not swelling relentlessly larger. To not feel the newly formed skirt being filled by a spectacular peach of an ass.
It seemed to work, as the heat of the magic started to ease, and his panic was mastered. Looking down, she blurrily saw an impressive, intimidating cleavage. The mane of hair that fell into sight was smoother and more manageable than his shorter mop of hair.
However, the magic was spent, Harry was a witch now, rather than a wizard.
"You do have a nice tushie..., Harriet." Myrtle observed, with a giggle. Harriet realised how much she'd shrunk with these changes, and how far she'd had to lean forward.
"Though I did prefer you as a wizard..." Myrtle pouted.
"This certainly exceeds my expecations." Harry grumbled, unwilling to think of this as an 'outstanding' result.
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