This choice: A classmate?! Looks like Dumbledore managed to pull some strings! • Go Back...Chapter #6Your Breast Friends by: chaos   ….Two pairs of big, bouncing breasts. You stare at the two sets of breasts in front of you, knowing that you should really see who they belong to, but finding the sight of them to be all to pleasant to stare at. Even with your body permanently shrinking and your current size that just above a toddler, your teenage hormones are not hampered.
“Oh Harry!” Someone cries before you find yourself between one of the sets of breasts that you had been staring at a moment ago. It might just be because your head is smaller, but they feel huge and nearly cover your whole head. They feel so soft against you face, pressing your ears down against your skull as they envelop your head. You breathe in the sweet womanly smell of the breasts, finding that it is oddly similar to the smell of dusty books. Once you recognize the smell of books, you come to a starting realization of who’s boobs you are enjoying.
“Hermione!” You gasp out as she lets go of your face. Breathing in fresh air, you look up at her, seeing her staring down at you with concern and wonderment. You have no doubt that your long time friend is both concerned for you and fascinated by your current condition. Hermione is a great friend, but she sometimes gets so caught up in studying new things she can be tactless and see people as something to study. Personally, you’d rather spend your last few days doing anything then being looked at like a scientific marvel.
“Harry!” In all your excitement to see Hermione again, you forgot about the second set of breasts at the door. You look up in time to see Ginny Weasley’s tearful face before you’re once again smothered between two huge boobs. You let Ginny smoother you to your chest, noticing absentmindedly that Ginny’s breasts were slightly larger then Hermione’s chest. After a second of indecision, you decide to enjoy the close contact and snug the large breasts around your head. You forget this is your best friend’s sister who has a near stalker crush on you and just enjoy the boobs against your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry Harry. Dumbledore told us everything that is happening to you. It is so unfair. Why does this stuff have to happen to you? Why does every year some terrible disaster have to befall Harry Potter?” Ginny gushed as she pulled you away from her chest. Adjusting your glasses, you nod absentmindedly at Ginny’s thought provoking question. Why does all this shit always happen to you?
Hermione was next to speak; she knelt down to speak to you, which only further demonstrated how small you really were. “We are so sorry, Harry. I want you to know that the both of us are here for you.”
“Thank you,” politely you respond, but silently you wish she’d drop the pity party. That was the thing you liked about staying at the Burrow, no one kept saying how sorry they were. It was getting on your nerve after hearing it so much from Dumbledore yesterday. If these girls really wanted to show how sorry they were, how about putting your face back between their big breasts. That really shows how apologetic they are.
You sigh in misery, you shouldn’t be thinking like this. These are your closet friends, you can’t start sexualizing them just because things are out of proportion. As you think that, Ginny and Hermione study your dwindled form, seeing how small and helpless you look at only a few feet tall. Something about it makes them both feel a little bit hot under the collar. At your size, they could do literally anything to you and there was nothing you could do to stop them. It was a rush of power that made both girl’s feel woozy. They both started imaging what they could do with a tiny Harry, picturing what they could do to you when you’re ten inches tall, then three inches tall and then when no bigger then the tip of their thumbs.
“Are you okay?” you asked, noticing both girl’s had started blushing and were breathing erratically. Mr. Weasley watched from behind you, knowing exactly what the girl’s were thinking. She cursed herself for not trying to convince Dumbledore to fight for him to stay with her. Watching over Harry as he becoming smaller would have been a definite pleasure.
“We’re fine,” Hermione quickly piped up, trying to rein herself back in. Smiling warmly at you, she took your hand in hers. Her hand eclipsed yours, making you feel even smaller then you did before. “We’re taking you to Hogwarts. It’s terrible that the Ministry of Magic is forcing you to return to school with your condition. At least Dumbledore convinced them that it was important that you remain with friends. They originally wanted to stick you with Draco Malfoy before Dumbledore insisted on someone else.”
You shudder at hearing how close you came to being handed over to Malfoy. Forget about dying from the disease, you wouldn’t have survived the day with the bleach blond Slytherin. He’d have either handed you over to Voldemort or taken care of you himself, probably in the most gruesome way imaginable. No, you were very lucky that Dumbledore got you set up with a friend to look after you. They would never endanger you.
“We’re going mom!” Ginny called out.
The stout housewife waved to her child and her friends, never taking her eyes off you. She smiled in that unsettling way that made you feel very uncomfortable. “Good bye. If things get too rough for you Harry, remember. You can always try to convince Dumbledore to send you back here. I’ll take care of you, make you comfortable and we’ll have so much fun. I’ll even let you sleep in my bed if you get scared.”
“Um, thanks,” you uncertainly answered. Mrs. Weasley had always been a warm caring influence in his life, but since coming here she had been treated you with more affection then you can ever remember. You suppose that it just might be her way of trying to make you feel better. But some her looks at seemed a little bit too much amorous. You put it out of your mind and follow Hermione and Ginny outside where an old boot is waiting for you.
“Great, another portkey,” you groan at the sight of your most hated method of transportation. It might be convenient, but you always felt like puking after it was over. Sighing, you place a single finger along with Ginny and Hermione on the worn-out boot and feel the tug on your navel. In a swirl of colors, you are gone, but before you disappear, you recall that you never asked the girl’s which one of them was looking after you. It would be nice to know whether the levelheaded, bookworm Hermione or the red haired, spunky Ginny was going to be the only thing standing between you and becoming toe jam under someone’s foot. I guess you’ll find out when you get to Hogwarts.
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