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"D... Draco..." the voice asked uncertainly. It was a girl's voice. But Draco didn't trust herself to answer without her voice trembling too.
She wanted to snarl an angry response, but was terrified it would sound petulant, instead. When she summoned up the courage to answer, she felt her skin crawl, beneath her cupping hands. As if insects were crawling over her skin, tickling and soft but unsettling. It was only as she felt her bust getting lifted, supported and separated, did she realise this was the final stage of her transformation, from wizard to witch. Draco was now wearing a bra.
"That IS you Draco." the voice sounding more certain. With a gasp, Draco recognised it as Pansy, the girl whose panties he'd stole-eh... borrowed. As her chest jiggled, she realised how poorly they'd fitted. Her transfigured body being curvier, with a fuller rear, and heftier bust. An idea hit her.
Her sharp elbows, thrashed and crashed against the walls of the cubicle, as she tugged her panties off. The vague, desperate hope, that if she removed them... maybe, just maybe this curse would be lifted. Even though, it fit, Draco was intensely aware of how her bra still shifted as the girls danced in their cups.
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