Hands coming up, trying to estimate the size of the girls. It was all too unfamiliar, they felt sensitive and soft. The lacy trim around the cups, and the legs of her panties a constant reminder of her new sex. As if the fresh breeze... down there... wasn't reminder enough. Distractedly, he tugged at the hem of the skirt. It was far briefer than the usual uniform allowed, barely more than a belt and tailored to humiliate. Hell! Even her hands were now slim and feminine, the nails now coated with a peach... pink... colour.
More curious than interested, and concerned only about Draco. Harry wondered if she were prettier than Draco, or not. The rest she could see, even in the shadowy, dappled half-light of the invisibility cloak.
Harry knew Fred and George would've gone to ground and be impossible to find. However, she guessed Ron their oblvious look out wouldn't know to lay low.
He decided to head back to the Gryffindor common room, find and confront Ron. Try to wrestle suggestions of where Fred and George might be. Or if Ron wasn't there, take the Marauders Map and hunt them down.
- - - - -
It was an angry trudge up the stairs and along all the different corridors to rise from the dungeon to Gryffindor tower. Harry wanted to, and tried to stomp angrily. But, it was quickly abandoned as an experiment, as she found the stamping pace was quite loud, and undercut any stealth she needed with the invisibility cloak.
But, worse, she felt the extra anger in her pace as a ripple and roll in her bust, and an answering counter from her hips and ass.
Finally, she found herself at the portrait hole and growled out the password. Though it emerged as more of a sultry purr from Harry's hidden throat. The Fat Lady's eyes darting wildly for the source of the voice, as the frame opened wide to allow Harry within.
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