As Harry padded down the corridor his senses were peaked. There was a muted boom, followed by a hiss and a scattering of shouts. He looked around anxiously, his invisibility cloak would be no protection if a horde of students came barrelling down the passageway. There was a huff of escaping gas, and Harry spotted a flare of emerald smoke jetting out from behind a portrait.
It was a rather flustered looking old man. He was posed in a chair, but he kept trying to look behind his own frame. Harry backed against the opposite wall. The frame of the picture juddered, more gas burst out, the ornate frame making it dance in billowing patterns.
The cries became louder... closer.
It fell into place. Harry recognised the picture.... recognised the location. This was an entrance to the Slytherin common room. With a crash the frame gave a crack, and the picture swung aside. Out from the green smoke strode the students. Some covering their mouths, others just coughing, promising vengeance between rasping breaths.
Harry wanted to help, this seemed a cruel prank. But he stopped, revealing himself like this would make him look like the prankster. He knew there wasn't much love for him in that particular house. Harry covered his mouth, as more students came out. They milled around, and Harry was careful to avoid getting too close, to risk bumping into anyone.
There was something else that was a little odd about it. All of the Slytherin students were female. He wondered if there was a meeting for the Slytherin girls, or whether this was the Weasley's target. Until he spotted a certain platinum blonde girl.
She looked particularly upset, and offended. There was a snarl on her face, and an overbearing manner that shouted that this girl was Draco Malfoy. There was also the fact that she was drowning in a poorly fitting boys uniform.
He was glad to be covering his mouth, otherwise a harsh burst of laughter would have given him away. Harry looked closer, there was more than one girl in the wrong uniform. However, that was already altering. Hogwarts had a very strict dress code. A very strict dress code that was magically enforced.
Before Harry's eyes, Draco's trouser legs pulled up, retreating up his legs, revealing first bare ankles and soon an elegant knee. As it rose the fabric stitched itself together. He tugged at the hem, in a futile battle for dignity. The uniform showed no mercy, and soon Draco was appropriately dressed in the Slytherin girls uniform. Or so Harry thought.
With a high yelp, and a flurry of hands. Draco fought against the bra that was forming beneath her shirt turned blouse. It lifted the girls, and gave her the support and separation that she hated needing.
Despite knowing who she was, Harry still found her attractive. Her face a challenging pout, rather than a spiteful scowl. Her nose and mouth petite and delicate.
One of the girls scowled as she realised something.
"Shit. You know the rules. We still have to attend classes."
"Shit..." There was soon a chorus of unhappy muttering, some wanted to deny it, but others harder to read.
Harry recognised Pansy Parkinson, and she looked to be in her element. She goosed the arse of the new girls, each squawk making her smile wider, bearing more teeth.
"No... NO" Draco's denial was high and girlish. "But... But... I've got Quidditch Practice." he moaned. She went pale... paler even than her normal skin tone.
"So. Do you consider being a girl, a punishment." Pansy said, sneaking up behind Draco. She snaked one arm around the new girl's waist, rather low on her hip. She leaned in a licked Draco's earlobe.
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