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Harry felt his insides beginning to creak and whir, much like the manner in which Uncle Vernon's car used to act up every morning he took it to work. In a matter of seconds, he felt his feet elongate and harden beyond restitution, his body contort and twist in ways he didn't think possible, till finally he stopped with his face looking up at what seemed to be the headrest of a recliner yet he knew it was his feet. Hermione has turned me into a recliner! Harry thought to himself.
" Funny...I expected you to turn into a footstool." exclaimed Hermione, interrupting Harry's train of thought, while climbing on to her new maroon recliner as she examined her wand and ran her fingers through her hair wondering what had gone wrong.
Meanwhile Harry was unsuccessfully trying to call for help as he felt Hermione climb on him and sit on what felt like his stomach, he saw her sink a little into him and then stretch her feet out unknowingly rubbing them into what was his face.
"This is really great Harry, you even match the upholstery in the common room" said Hermione, secretly wishing she could repeat this in transfiguration class, and maybe make it so she could see where his face was now.
Stretching her feet, she began glancing through the Daily Prophet reading interesting anecdotes aloud to Harry as the fire kept crackling.
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