One, however-
Eleanor Nott.
You hadn't seen her since the Quidditch game. She didn't seem to notice you, yet. For the sake of your ability to pay attention in class, you felt that it may be prudent to stay that way.
Few students had actually sat down yet, which thankfully left you a generous pick of the desks. You grabbed the one closest to the front, while putting a crowd of students between you and the other.
You had nothing against the other girl; you just preferred to keep transfiguration as non-lewd as possible.
Getting comfortable, you had just begun getting your things out, when Professor McGonagall, followed by Isolde Flamel, whom you had heard that name before, came back into the classroom. Isolde seemed oddly contrite as she followed.
The Professor stopped at her front desk and turned her gaze to the class. Immediately, her eyes sharpened.
"Nott! Crabb! Goyle! What do you three think you're doing!" She asked, voice carrying across the room. You tried to turn and see what was going on, but the rows of students between you and the back of the classroom blocked your view. You could, however, hear the response.
"Sorry, Professor McGonagall. We were just helping her out- "
"Well, if that is your idea of help, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind some remedial lessons on 'helping' from Filch, tonight. Detention."
Some grumbling was heard, but none dared talk back. McGonagall seemed pleased with the reaction.
"Now sit down. Crabb, Goyle, opposite ends. Nott-" Her eyes scanned the classroom for an empty seat. You suddenly became very aware that the one beside you, the aisle seat, was empty. It became very clear to you what was about to happen.
"-Come up here and sit next to Mr. Granger."
There wasn't a response, beyond light shuffling, and then a shadow was cast over you.
.
----------------->
.
"Heya, Herman." She said, looking down at you as a trail of drool ran from her mouth. You wanted to cry.
Whatever happened to a normal class!
"Hello, Eleanor." You answered, a calm smile on your face as you held your mask tight.
The girl shuddered at the use of her name before squeaking happily.
"Sit down, Nott," McGonagall ordered again.
She did so, trapping you between the window and her. She scooted in close enough that your legs touched. Her focus was much more on you than the lecture.
Despite your best efforts, your eye twitched.
The lesson, apparently, was going to be a little bit different today. According to what you heard last class, you were originally supposed to be learning how to transform cloth into hide, and back again.
Today, though, it seemed that the plan had changed, as Professor McGonagall stepped to the front of the room, Isolde close behind her; she had a put-upon look on her face.
"Good afternoon, class, normally, I would have you all pull out your notes, and we would review our discussion last class on the feasibility of gerbils, and we would explore the historical use of them during the second goblin war- " There was the sound of a throat clearing behind her. The Transfiguration professor sighed, taking a single second to look towards the ceiling as if asking the powers that be why she was the one to have to deal with this.
"-but there has been a change in plans." She continued, returning to her serious expression. "Instead, we will be focusing on the art of human transfiguration."
Her words set off a storm of whispers in the classroom. You were similarly awed, just a bit. You hadn't been scheduled to work on human transfiguration until later in the year.
The professor let the gossiping go on for a little while longer, generally, before calling you all back to order.
"This class will be focused on teaching you the theory of human transfiguration." Her stern eyes moved across the crowd. "You are not to try and use any of this until I direct you to, and only in classroom environments. If I have to come rushing to a dormitory at ungodly hours because one of you has turned your dormmate into a newt, you will be serving detention with me for the rest of the year."
The threat, delivered in her usual tone, had all of you straightening. From any other teacher, this may sound like hyperbole, but anyone who has been in class with the Transfiguration professor knew that McGonagall didn't make empty threats.
Two girls who'd been fighting took her promise to put them over her knee if they didn't behave for granted, and swiftly found themselves embarrassed in front of the entire class.
Happy that her words had been sufficiently taken in, she nodded before turning to the blackboard. A flick of her wand had it spinning, chalk floating up and writing on it of their own accord.
"You may have noticed, we have a guest." She said. "I will let her introduce herself." McGonagall shot the other a look that clearly was some mix of Behave and Please no.
Isolde didn't seem to notice as she stepped to the front of the class. You couldn't see her mouth, but her eyes were crinkled in such a way that you could tell she was smiling. It didn't feel like a nice smile either.
"Greetings, ye useless and most pitiable excuses for wizards. It hath become woefully apparent that the standards of this modern age have altogether failed, inasmuch as they have bred forth so worthless and degenerate a generation. Youth hath grown slothful and corrupted, knowing naught of the true nature of toil, discipline, and grit. This day shall I go amongst thee, one by one, and render unto thee such assistance as may make thee marginally less worthless."
Her eyes seemed to shine with a malicious light.
"Prepare yourselves for my arrival, worms."
Several students shivered, and McGonagall looked like she wanted to put her head in her hands.
The class started from there, and McGonagall began on a long and interesting lecture on the intricacies of human transfiguration. You wrote down every word, as she mentioned the differing severity of living vs no living objects, along with those vs muggles, and then versus wizards.
It was quite an interesting topic. And something you intended to question her further on.
But then-
You jumped a little.
There was a hand on your thigh.
It was slowly, ever so slowly, sliding up.
You couldn't help but breathe out through your nose, sighing. Of course.
You turned to your side, expecting to see her try to at least pretend like she wasn't touching you.
.
----------------->
.
She was staring right at you, unashamedly, feeling you up as she did.
"Hey." She whispered.
You met her eyes for just a bit longer, feeling, among other things, altogether done with this entire school.
You just wanted to sit through a single class and take notes in peace, dammit.
…
Ok, so maybe it didn't happen every class, but it certainly felt like it sometimes. It was almost episodic in nature.
What was your life, some type of shitty smut story?
She didn't seem to be taking the hint to move along, if the way her hand had now reached your inner thigh said anything.
"Hey." You deadpanned, staring her down.
She smiled widely in response, and you swore you saw a flash of pink run across her lips.
This was getting almost cartoonish. There was no way anyone was this horny.
She still didn't stop, and even though your quill hand was still moving, taking notes as Professor McGonagall spoke, you didn't appreciate the fact that the only thing that seemed to keep her from full-on molesting you was the fact that you were staring her down.
The sound of chalk being lifted once again, and something being written on the board, told you that your professor was putting up another diagram. You'd need to look away.
Damn.
"If I let you do this, will you at least let me take notes in peace?" You asked, finally. It wasn't worth the situation it would cause.
At your question, the girl gave a few eager nods, smiling widely. You sighed before turning away.
The hand on your thigh quickly went back to work, feeling up and down your leg, even as you tried your best to just ignore it.
Professor McGonagall was now talking again, this time reminding you all of the basics of transfiguration.
"-orcing a magical object-field to accept a new pattern of identity, structure, and function. Rather than creating matter from nothing, the caster temporarily destabilizes the target's existing form and overlays it with an imposed magical template. The more precise the caster's intent, the more stable the transformation, because magic must reconcile the target's original material state with the newly defined one." She paused, taking a breath.
"Human transfiguration is both different and the same from this. All steps remain, however, at the same time you are also now battling against the target's own identity, structure, and magic." She walked towards the other side of the room, where the professor kept a collection of various materials for experimentation.
"It is for this reason that human transfiguration is not often used in combat; if you target resists the spell, even for a moment, it leaves you vulnerable yourself. True use of transfiguration whilst defending oneself, as you will likely learn in your Defense classes, comes from using the environment instead." As she said this, a single flick of her wand had a wooden practice dummy twist into a swarm of birds, which followed her direction, sloshing into a stream of water, which landed with a splash, turning into a lion, which roared, then leapt back into the form of the dummy.
The display was sufficient that it had most of the students in the room in awe.
"Any questions?" She asked, smiling merrily.
Many hands shot up, including your own, and McGonagall took only a few before directing you all to your own individual work.
"I, or Ms. Flamel, will be over to discuss your questions and assignments with you. We will also allow you to practice the spell. If we do not get to you in this class, please keep your papers with you, and I will discuss them with you next time. You will only practice the spell with one of us present."
You would have kept your hand in the air, intent on asking a bit about the homework that had been assigned las class, and whether she had a chance to read your essay yet, but before you could get your hand in the air fully, you sucked in a quick intake of breath, as a cool, soft hand slipped under your waist band, into your pants and underwear entirely.
Turning, you gave her a scathing look, resolving to forever deny the squeak that had escaped you as she quickly, literally, openly fondled you in a crowded classroom.
She smiled back, shivering as she felt along your length.
"Mmph, just as long as I remember." She giggled, shivering as her thighs pressed together.
"Do you mind?" You couldn't help but hiss. It didn't seem to affect her much.
"You said I could." She chimed, happily. Her hand withdraws regardless, slipping out of your pants, and you watch in disgust as she sniffed it, her eyes rolling a bit.
At least she seemed to be done. You turned back to your notes, intent on double-checking your work, before practicing the wand movements, when-
Zip
You felt your pants come undone, fly unzipped, as Eleanor swiftly, with a skill you didn't think possible to develop, slipped your naked cock out of your underwear, when she began, of all things, slowly stroking it under the desk.
This had gone far enough. You turned towards her, intent on telling her off, when.
"Dost thou attend unto thy labors, thou perverse wretch, or dost thou choose instead to idle away thy time in foolish gossip beside an innocent and pure maiden, steeping thyself in sloth?" Isolde Flamel said, from in front of the desk.
You were, in that moment, immensely grateful for the fact that the desk covered your legs, whilst being incredibly regretful that you didn't just decide to skip today.
At the very least, Eleanor seemed to freeze a bit at her sudden appearance as well. At being called an innocent maiden, however…
"Snrk." She covered her mouth with her free hand, her other having frozen around your shaft.
Isolde didn't seem to notice her amusement, the majority of the woman's attention, and ire, directed at you.
Was she still holding a grudge over what happened in the hall?
…
Was that something you could ask about?
Whilst you were lost in your thoughts, without any fanfare, and even though there was a teacher or otherwise related individual directly in front of the two of you, Eleanor Nott seemed to grow impatient. In long, slow strokes, she restarted her work on your cock.
Your frustration seemed to boil over, just a bit, and you reacted.
Ignoring your hardening length, your hand came down, wrapping itself around her wrist, freezing her hand in place.
At the same time, you met Isoldes' eyes, trying to figure out what to say.
-x-X-x-
Isolde Flamel was of the opinion that life was just better during the fourteenth century.
People understood what really mattered back then. The value of tradition and why it exists.
Life was just better. There was no whining about blood purity or politics or people who were annoyed that you had just shat yourself and hadn't the time to vanish it yet.
Then, unfortunately, time passed, and so did the proper way of life that she had taken for granted.
With each passing generation, they seemed to move further and further away from the golden time. Now it seemed that everyone was more interested in talking about their feelings and equality.
It made her want to scoff.
No, Flamel knew what life was supposed to be like. The good old days, when you just had to grab any wizard you wanted off the street and break him like you did a wild horse.
Nowadays, everyone was whiny, animals and vermin were in their halls and handling their money, the peasantry was being allowed to learn with the nobles, and the nobles were droll idiots with misguided ideas about their place in the world.
Especially the men.
Oh, how Isolde despised the men of this era. Their attitudes. Their idiocies.
She longed for the old days, truly, back when her graceful and appreciated attempts at flirting, i.e., surprise apparition into her bedroom from their own, used to be the height of romance.
She had high hopes for Dumbledore, for a while.
He seemed powerful enough and submissive in a way that reminded her of the good old days.
But then, of course, it was revealed that he and Grindewald had a thing going on, the two of them being gay of all things.
A supreme mugwump, homosexual!
She was surprised that magic didn't strike him down then and there. She stayed far away from him after that. She didn't want to catch it as some of her friends had.
At least she'd found a promising colleague in the form of Minerva.
A respectable pureblood woman, from a long, established lineage. A good conversationalist. Skilled in magic.
That was someone she was willing to spend her life with.
And Minerva was having the same trouble she had; she couldn't find a man she was happy with.
Or at least, that's what Isolde had gathered from the fact that her friend only ever seemed to hang around other women, and rejected any and all offers she'd received for marriage or otherwise.
Truly, Minerva was a high-class and refined woman. Exclusive.
It made her happy to be friends with her, and she'd even offered to gift the woman some elixir from her stone, to help keep her longer.
She hadn't responded, so she came in person to chat with her.
Then, of course, she'd run into one of the little mud-blooded brats her friend had to deal with.
Isolde couldn't help but sneer down at the boy as he sat at the desk. A type of sadistic pleasure welled inside her at the thought of at least getting to teach one boy his place in this modern age.
Maybe he'd even thank her for it, later in life.
-x-X-x-
You couldn't help but feel that this might be a little bit of an overreaction.
It had, after all, been an accident. Despite all accounts, you hadn't meant to go face-first into the other woman's chest. It had just, well, happened.
Surely she wouldn't punish you for that?
"You. Boy. Stand thou up here." Isolde said, a grim smile on her face. You felt just a bit nervous as you stood, although you were, at the very least, relieved you wouldn't have to deal with Eleanor feeling you up anymore.
Shaft stiff and painful in your pants, you stood, and hoped that she didn't notice it. You had a feeling that having a hard-on in front of the teacher who already thought you were a pervert might not be the winning play.
You stood, coming around the desk to her side. You kept your distance, out of respect, and ideally to avoid any, well, 'happy accidents' from happening like before.
No use in giving her more ammunition to use against you, all things considered.
Instead, you stood carefully off to the side, watching as the assistant professor withdrew her wand before turning to Eleanor.
...
It was somewhat petty to think, but you were somewhat thankful when she gave the pureblooded girl a look with the same amount of disgust you saw in her eyes for you. At least you weren't being singled out.
Better to have a teacher who hates everyone than one who hates you specifically.
"Watch now, and mark it well. I shall explain unto thee the spell with which thou shalt be working, as well as its proper functions."
She didn't withdraw a wand, but instead brandished her staff.
A single flick, and the quill on the table next to Nott expanded into a much larger version, moving from a dove feather to one the size of a peacock's.
"That is the spell as it is used upon non-living matter. Now—" She turned to you, staff clicking as she closed the distance you had made. "—upon living matter, it is somewhat more finicky. Yet, with sufficient skill, one may enlarge or diminish the parts of others as well."
Suddenly, you were feeling very nervous.
"Professor Flamel," you began, respectfully. "I'm not sure how comfortable I am with this."
A woman you knew did not like you, casting magic you didn't know that affected your body?
Even with McGonagall there, it wasn't exactly a thought that filled you with enthusiasm.
She waved a dismissive hand.
"Hogwash. Play not the coward now. I had thought the men of this age did boast themselves brave." As she spoke, she raised her staff.
You had a split second to consider what, exactly, you wanted to do here.
Your wand, which you'd slipped into your hand behind your back, felt warm. Reactive.
The options before you were clear, and your wand, the wooden one, felt ready to assist in either.
Either you could try and direct the initial spell, changing the target. It wasn't something you were very practiced at doing, but Flitwick had demonstrated it in class.
Or, you could try to catch and deflect it, a more complicated maneuver. You also wouldn't have long to choose who to send it to.
These sorts of spells were like homing missiles, after all. They needed a target to function.
-x-X-x-
For the record, you felt that it was, or at least, should be, a common response, for when someone starts casting unknown magic at you without your full consent, when you weren't ready, to try and send it back at them.
Natural selection, really, or maybe publicly enforced politeness.
The tall woman tapped her staff to the ground once, then twice. Without speaking the spell at all, another sign that she was likely not exactly interested in actually teaching at the moment.
The blue light flared before darting towards you. It seemed impossibly fast, but your wand pulsed in your hand, and you drew the curved piece of ivory forward, movement assisted by some force not your own.
A quick hand and understanding of the spell. That was what Flitwick said was required to deflect magic.
You had one of those; hopefully, you could wing the other. She did, Afterall, say that it was a version of the spell you'd already used to adjust the size of inanimate objects.
Breathing deeply, even as the light flew towards you, you brought your wand forward, tip glowing. The quick hand first.
You had to judge where the spell was going. Thankfully, with the bright light, it made it somewhat less angled.
It was heading… towards your crotch.
If things weren't moving so fast, you would have spared an unimpressed look for the older woman.
Really, someone her age, going for a low blow.
Whatever she was trying to do, you weren't very interested in letting it land.
Flick~
A quick movement, more of the wrist than the arm, had you catch the blue light, gathering it along the sharp endpoint of your wand.
You muttered under your breath, the spell coming to you as you did. You could feel the magic struggling, already expended and looking for a target. You could even feel the intent.
To shrink.
… Really?
Was this really an adult you were dealing with?
Irritation growing, you found a resolve in you as well.
If she was going to act like you were such a senseless pervert, why not give her a taste of what that actually meant?
You twitched your hand, the spell flying back towards the woman. She blinked and began moving to intercept. It was too late, though, and the blue light splashed against her chest, sinking into the exposed skin there.
A moment of silence, the rest of the room didn't seem to notice what had happened.
Her eye twitched.
"What hast thou done?" She asked, quietly.
Nott, off to the side, was watching, heaving, swinging from you to the teacher and back again, looking like she was more engaged than you'd ever seen her in anything aside from sex.
You smiled guilelessly.
"I was just trying something Professor Flitwick taught us. I wasn't sure it would work, though. Do you want to try again?"
Her eyes twitched, and while you couldn't see her mouth, you would see that it was screwed into a tight frown.
"What. Hast. Thou. Done?" She enunciated clearly, not believing your act for a second.
"I have no idea." You answered.
She took another step, staff coming up threateningly, when-
RIIIIIIP!
.
-------------->
.
Her pale breasts sprang out from their confines, suddenly nearly doubling in size, and jumping out of her top in a bid for freedom. Her nipples were on full display, as her clothing tore to accommodate their new size.
Step interrupted by the sudden change in weight, Isolde flailed for a moment, falling, her momentum bringing her forward onto you again.
You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you, as her newly enlarged breasts hugged your face once again, your vision turning to darkness, as the two of you went to the floor.
Silence spread across the classroom, slowly, as others noticed.
Quick footsteps could be heard.
"Isolde, what are you doing to Mr. Granger!" Came the worried and confused voice of Professor McGonagall.
The other was silent, only for a moment, before replying.
"Seeking to suffocate him," she answered at last, sounding dead inside.
Well, she was certainly better equipped to do so now.
Frankly, you felt that what you were about to do next was the most logical option available to you.
After all, there was no practical way you were getting out of this unscathed. Not with Isolde hating you, and with the current situation.
If you were going to get detention, then by God, it was going to be by something that you did do. Not for something that was an accident.
Thankfully, you were in a position to take full, well, 'advantage', of the circumstances.
Isolde's decision not to move from atop you, likely soaking in her own shame and embarrassment as well, gave you ample opportunity to get a feel for just how much larger her assets had become. Given that you had prior experience just today as well, you were relatively certain that she had gone up at least two cup sizes.
They were now just big enough to fully cover your face and mouth. In fact, it was actually somewhat difficult to breathe with how effectively she was smothering you.
…
Well, maybe she was actually trying to suffocate you.
Either way, this also meant that, with her breasts escaping from her top, her nipples were poking into your cheeks, not quite hard yet, but definitely present.
Which meant that you had your targets.
"Isolde, stop joking around and remove yourself from Mr. Granger this instant! The poor boy doesn't deserve this- Whatever this is!" McGonagall asked, sounding more flustered than you'd ever heard the stern woman sound before.
The woman on top of you shifted, and her hands planted themselves on either side of your head as she groaned.
"Thou art sorely mistaken there, MinerVA—!" Whatever she had been about to say, likely some slander, if you were to guess, you struck.
Mainly by, just as she was starting to lift herself off you, catching one of her nipples in your mouth, and giving it a swift but firm nibble, pinching the nub between your teeth. The effect had been more pronounced than you'd expected, the woman yelping, and her arms giving out from under her, dropping her breasts back onto your face, only this time her nipples were pressed into your mouth.
Feeling bold, or perhaps deliriously stupid, you decided to push your advantage, mainly by taking both nipples into your mouth and sucking as hard as you could.
You'd read somewhere that newly transfigured body parts tended to be somewhat more sensitive to touch after they'd been changed. It'd been noted in a rather violent historic retelling of the Chinese Wizarding World, and some of the torture methods used on a woman who stole men from other witches.
Here, the other end of the spectrum of sensation was happening, if the noise that escaped her was any indication. She shuddered against you, now lying prone, your limbs tangled together. You froze, even as she shakily pushed herself up again. On all fours, she met your eyes, high collar somewhat askew, but eyes heated, confused, and angry.
"Everything good, Professor?" You asked with your best innocent smile. She glared, but before she could answer, a strong pair of hands took the other by the shoulders and pulled her off you, before helping you to your feet. McGonagall had evidently had enough of just waiting around.
"Stand up, Mr. Granger. Are you quite alright?" She asked worriedly. You nodded, adding a bit of shake to your movements.
"Y-yeah, just a bit shaken up."
Her eyes softened.
"Go sit down, Granger. If you need anything, let me know."
You went to walk away when-
"You."
You turned around.
.
--------------->
.
Isolde did not look happy.
-x-X-x-
Well, it was time to fall back on your old standby.
AKA, act as oblivious as possible, and let your natural aura of innocent bookworm do its work.
Walking back to your seat and sitting down next to Eleanor, who looked incredibly entertained with the entire situation, you turned back to the professor and tilted your head in such a way that you heard over half of the female population in the classroom sigh. Even McGonagall softened slightly at the display.
This was a move you'd cooked up over the years that always worked on putting more people at ease.
For Isolde, who knew exactly what had just happened, it only served to irritate her further, if the way her hands clenched was anything to go by.
"Professor Isolde, is everything alright?" You asked, affecting a look of concern. "I know the fall might have rattled you, but I did my best to keep you from hitting the ground at all."
She stepped forward, one arm covering her now much larger breasts, while the other was white-knuckled around her staff. Her outfit, which had previously barely managed to contain her chest, was now ripped through. She'd need to repair or change it to cover up properly again.
Frankly, it was an easy fix thanks to magic. You could do it, given a bit of time. You wondered why she didn't.
May as well ask. And try to irritate her a bit more in the process.
Blushing, you glanced down, purposefully, but in a way that didn't make it obvious, before blushing and looking away. This coincidentally meant that you were looking directly at Eleanor Nott.
.
------------->
.
The look on her face said everything, but, opening her mouth, she evidently had more to say.
I saw that~ she mouthed, smiling all the way. The words were hidden from view by a hand as she spoke.
"If possible, could you cover up, Ms. Isolde. I'm not quite…. Comfortable, with that sort of thing."
There was angry noise, not unlike a bird choking. It served to cover Nott's own loud snort relatively well.
Fast steps behind you, you turned to look.
.
----------->
.
She was standing over you now, having managed something, evidently, with her clothing to cover up somewhat. You still had quite the view of underboob, and despite her fearsome glare, you couldn't help but appreciate the generous amount of tit-flesh offered to you.
You looked away quickly to keep up the illusion.
"C-Could you please step away?"
She hissed.
"You…. You think you can get away with what you did."
Another head tilt.
"Did what? You just fell on top of me and shoved your br-brests- chest. You fell onto me and shoved your chest in my face when I tried to catch you."
That seemed to only serve to infuriate her more.
"Why, you little mudblood-"
"ISOLDE FLAMEL!"
You perked up, in spite of the angry cry of McGonagall.
"Oh! Flamel, like Nicholas Flamel?"
That seemed to be the last straw.
"My name is not Nicholas!" A sore spot, evidently. She raised her staff, as if to strike you, when-
Zlorp!
.
------------->
.
She tumbled to the ground, McGonagall standing behind her, wand raised, with a troubled look on her face.
Isolde was also naked and tied up in somewhat provocative knots. You made a note to learn that spell.
"Class, you will do free study for the rest of the period. If any of you leave the room for anything outside an emergency, it will be detention. I need to go let Dumbledore know that we have a guest who needs to be reminded about the standards here at Hogwarts."
Another flick of her wand, and the bound figure floated up. Breasts hanging. You wanted to ask why she was naked, but had a feeling you wouldn't get a good answer. The students watched as she left, but her eyes never left yours.
The burning blue swore revenge of the highest caliber. You had a feeling you'd made an enemy today.
At least it was funny.