As the slytherins escaped the pink cloud, they spread further down the corridor. Harry recognised half of them, as he pressed himself out of their random shuffling into an alcove with a statue.
Recognising Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, and a few other of the slytherin witches, it dawned on Harry what effect the smoke had on them. He didn't need to hear the squeaking voice of a young witch complain, "Draco... I don't like this..."
Her hands hovering over her bust, as if afraid to touch it, and confirm the reality of what she saw. She looked terrified, "Calm down, Goyle." a willowy blonde snarled. Harry had to smother a giggle, as he didn't need to see her face, to know this was a transfigured Draco Malfoy.
"You can talk..." Goyle grumbled. Her gaze darting to her far fuller bust. Bigger by far than Draco's own new developments. Harry reasoned the last had to be Crabbe. A brunette, with her own look of fear and confusion.
- - - - -
The only slytherins who appeared even slightly amused were those Harry recognised: Pansy Parkinson; Millicent Bullstrode; Flora and Hestia Carrow seemed to delight in tormenting the newest Slytherin witches. Embarrassing them, whispering in their ears, something that made them blush crimson.
"Bloody Weasleys..." Draco cursed. "I bet those bloody twins are behind this..." Her voice lacked the familiar menace and sounded more petulant and whiny to Harry's ear. But the sentiment found more sympathy and agreement amongst those affected by the mist. Mutterings, and nodded heads from those too mortified to speak with their new piping, girlish voices.
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