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Authors Notes: This was something I came up with some time back, and wasn't really
intending to write more. But then...well, muse struck. So, we'll see how far this nonsense goes, shall we?

For the time being, each chapter is specific to a character, in a connected series of events taking place during the story of Harry Potter: Order of the Phoenix.
First up...Hermione!

The Sensational Hermione

Event takes place during Order of the Phoenix

"Damn that Malfoy, that elitist little troll…" Hermione growled to herself as she stalked angrily through the halls of Hogwarts, skirt swishing about her legs. Her anger was so great she could feel the blood rushing through her head, her heart racing. Normally she would eventually calm down, but this time he had gone too far. First was the constant Mudblood comments, and then there was the song he created to throw Ron off at Quidditch, and finally deliberately provoking Harry, Fred and George and getting them banned from playing for life. "That vile, foul creature!" She spat, barging into the girls bathroom, the door closing behind her serenely. Specifically, it was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, still out of order and not used. Even now, Myrtle's moaning and soft crying could be heard coming from her toilet.

Hermione paid no attention to that. She was so furious she could pound Malfoy's face in. It's why she came here, to vent and get it out of her system without doing exactly that. Not that she wasn't above doing it; indeed, she had punched Malfoy's face before and found it highly enjoyable. But with Umbrage about, now was not the time for a repeat.

She paced the bathroom, her shoes softly tapping on the marble floor as she clenched and unclenched her fists, muttering angrily under her breath, literally panting. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her, and she wanted to do nothing more than release, to smash something as the insults of Malfoy, and then those polite little simpering words of Umbrage filled her mind, the images of her toady little face and her idiotic, tyrannical decrees bouncing around in her head, her heart racing faster, and she just needed to release that tight energy now! Finally, she gave a scream of rage and gave one of the stall doors a double fisted hammer blow. The old wood cracked from the blow, splinters poking up around her fists as she held them in place, staring in shock, first at the blow and the damage she had caused…and then at her hands themselves.

The normally pale, slightly tanned skin had taken on a slightly sickly green tinge. That tight feeling she had before wasn't going away; in fact, it was getting worse. She backed away from the stall, opening her hands and looking at them as the green tinge slowly grew more pronounced. "What's happening…" She uttered, turning her hands over and taking note that the sleeves of her uniform were pulling away from her wrists, while at the same time getting tighter, as if her sleeves were shrinking, and exposing more greenish tinged skin. Belated, she noticed that it wasn't just the sleeves, but her uniform blouse, over-shirt, shoes, socks and undergarments were also feeling progressively restrictive. As her shock grew and she looked down at herself, she felt her heart racing faster, her body feeling almost as if on fire.

The feeling grew worse as she tried to rush to a mirror to see what was happening, but pain wracked her body, and she stumbled, crashing up against another toilet stall. She could almost feel her bones crackling, her muscles stretching and tightening as she tried to force herself forwards. With another sudden grinding feeling in her back, she cried out and dropped to her knees, her hair hanging down over her face as she panted, gazing at the floor. "This isn't…right!" She ground out, feeling her legs sliding slowly over the marble floor as she continued to grow. Suddenly her stomach convulsed, and she doubled over, wrapping an arm around her belly while the other caught her from hitting the floor. She could feel her skirt slipping slowly up her legs as they grew longer, and as she watched, horrified, she saw the sleeve on her forearm wrapped tightly around it, her skin turning a darker shade of green.

Under the arm holding her stomach, she could feel her abdominal muscles twitching and pulsing as she breathed, getting tighter and thicker. Air started to hit her skin as her blouse and over-shirt were pulled out of the skirt, and it was then that she noticed that her heaving chest was heaving more and more noticeably. Her burgeoning breasts continued to grow, pushing further and further as she felt her strength doubling and redoubling, her shoulders widening. At that moment, the sleeves of her arms started to tear, first at the cuffs, and then elsewhere as bulging, light green muscle burst through, growing more and more. "No, no, no!" She chanted, even as she felt her biceps rip through her blouse and then over-shirt, and then she felt buttons start to give over her chest, her bra creaking. She felt her blouse ripping down the middle of her back, followed by the more flexible over-shirt, exposing more skin to air as the collar ripped slowly, and then more quickly and exposing now dark green cleavage. She felt the snap of her skirt break, and her shoes rapidly giving way along with her socks, until they practically exploded off her larger feet and calves. All the while, she felt her strength growing greater, as her muscles tightened and bulged. The hair curtaining her face seemed to straighten out before her eyes, turning from brown to a dark green, and much longer than usual.

Finally, feeling a few last rips and tears from her clothing, she felt her body stop changing. Her breathing normalized and she was finally able to sit up straight and take note of what had just happened. The tattered remnants of her sleeves hung limply in the air up to her elbows, exposing a brilliant shade of emerald green, powerful looking forearms. Her biceps and triceps had grown through the sleeves, but the rips hadn't joined, leaving the rest to mold itself to the musculature almost like spandex. Stunned, she slowly picked herself up off the floor, and made another discovery: whereas before she was far below the top of the stalls, she could now see the tops with ease. She put that aside in her mind and walked to the mirror she'd been heading towards previously, and came up short, shocked at the view that stared back.

"What the bloody hell just happened to me?" She uttered aloud as she gazed at the woman who looked much like her, yet was also almost completely different. Facially at least, it looked just like the same young woman she had looked at when she woke up this morning, sans the bright green eyes and emerald skin. Oddly enough, she noted that there wasn't a single blemish on her skin.

Beyond that, it was a different woman that stared at her, with long legs built with well defined calves and thighs trailing up to a skirt that had been turned into a miniskirt. It kept her decent, while giving her a much sexier look than she would have ever attempted. The waist of the skirt was somewhat loose, but hung off wider hips from the strained zipper. Above that was a tight waist, with powerful abdominal muscles rippling on an exposed midriff. Curious, she turned to the side and gazed at the pronounced rounded bulge of her rear under her skirt, feeling her muscle sliding under her skin, one of her hands tracing over her exposed stomach, the other reaching back and cupping her rear and squeezing and caressing. There was little give that she could feel, and her eyes continued to trail upwards over the taut clothing that was effectively painted on her powerful body, arms long and rippling with thick muscle. But most impressive out of the changes so far, at least in her mind, was in her bust and her shoulders. She easily had to have gained at least one, maybe two cup sizes in her bust as cleavage overflowed through the opening in her ripped blouse and over shirt, and she could also see the strained white bra underneath. Her shoulders had widened at least twice as much as normal, and, gazing at herself from the side, she could see she had gained an increased arch in her back from the combination of her tightened waist , expanded rear and upper back. Her hair trailed down her back, much straighter than normal, reaching to the middle of her back, and was a lustrous dark green.

"My god…" She murmured as she gazed at herself, her hands now trailing up over her shirt and blouse, noting how tight the clothing was over the thick muscle, until they cupped her breasts and squeezed, feeling them to be still pliant and supple, even as the bra constricted her breathing terribly. "…how do I explain this?!" Hermione continued, even as she noted how sexy and powerful her body felt, green as it was.

The next question that came to her stunned mind was, "How do I return to normal?" Followed rapidly by, "Why…did this happen?" She continued to gaze at herself, finally glancing at her arms, and flexing. The moment she did, the rips in her sleeves grew larger as her biceps pushed out further. "Bloody hell…" She muttered, stunned. "…I've become a freak!"

"Oh my.." A voice whispered softly behind her. She spun around, heart racing that someone had found her in this state. Floating serenely in the air was the pearlescent form of Myrtle, looking at the transformed Hermione with unabashed surprise. "…that's a new one. I've seen some strange things here, but one that turns girls into large green women tops it."

"Myrtle!" Hermione breathed, worry etched on her face. Myrtle wasn't Peeves, but she also wasn't above laughing at the misfortunes of others. "Look, I have no idea what happened, but I really need you to not tell anyone about this, at least not until I've figured out how to fix it."

Myrtle gave a sad sniff. "Nobody would believe me anyways. I'm just lonely, moping, Moaning Myrtle. They'll think I was just trying to get attention." She floated higher into the air, and then came back down, circling Hermione. "Though I wouldn't get as much attention as you would right now. You're almost out of uniform." The ghost girl giggled.

"Yes, quite." Hermione gazed down at herself, before looking back at the spirit. "I've got to get to Madam Pomfrey. This must be from a spell or some…thing…" Her mind clicked, a memory coming to the forefront. Her fists clenched, and she nearly snarled. "Ronald Weasley!"

"Ooh? Ronald Weasley?" Myrtle tiled her head, gazing at the emerald skinned woman. "What did he do?"

Hermione's breath hissed as she struggled to get her anger under control. It took a few moments, but finally she was calm enough to think more clearly. "He left something out, and…I had cast a spell to look at different fashions in the mirror…and I must have read it wrong, because I remember after touching what he left out with my wand and turned to the mirror, it bounced back and hit me. This has to be tied to that."

She had started to pace slowly, deep in thought. "Ok, so that's probably where it came from. Now how to I change back to normal? How does she do it in that American comic?" Hermione wished she had looked through the comic more closely. "Maybe she just gets calmed down. I remember anger set her off…"

"Are you sure? Maybe you should find out. Cause the green skin will make people think you're a troll." Myrtle commented, seemingly sitting on the top of one of the stall walls.

Hermione gave a distracted nod, still pacing slowly. "Ok, I'll think through this logically and start at the beginning…"

Before she could get to pondering, she heard a sound outside the bathroom door. It started to creak slowly…

"Bloody hell!" Hermione hissed, rushing back to the remnants of her shoes and socks and scooping them up before rushing into one of the stalls furthest from the door. She had just closed and latched it when she heard footsteps tapping on the stone floor.

"Hermione? You in here?"

She remained deadly silent, her heart pounding in her chest. The shoes continued to tap on the floor, before pausing. "What happened here?"

Hermione's eyes widened: she had forgotten about the door she had hit.

"Oooh, just something big and green smashed the door." Myrtle provided, a hint of a giggle in her voice. Indeed, she was sounding happier than she had in recent memory.

"Big and green? Like a troll?" The voice asked. Hermione realized belatedly it was Ginny's voice.

"You could certainly say it was like a troll…" Again Myrtle nearly giggled, the teasing infuriating Hermione further. "So what was it? Another monster? Come on Myrtle, you know something."

"Oh, well, I didn't see it clearly. I was just in the u-bend of my toilet, when I heard something hit the door." Myrtle continued, her voice seemingly closer to Hermione's hidden position. "I didn't get a good look, but it was big, and it was green. So I guess it could be a monster."

Silence followed, before Ginny sighed. "Too much to ask for it to be a monster that gets Umbrage. You sure you didn't see anything?"

"Of course I'm sure. Although…it might have been wearing a uniform…" Hermione's heart jumped into her throat: the spirit student clearly couldn't resist poking at Hermione's condition, regardless of her claims that nobody would believe her anyways.

"Well, thanks." Ginny's voice started to fade away as she walked for the door, muttering, "Another monster. Wonderful."

The transformed young woman waited for what seemed like half an hour before released a long held breath. "Thank god…now what am I going to do about this?" She looked down at herself as she sagged in relief towards the floor. She racked her brain, trying to remember what the comic had said, but with the excitement of hiding, she couldn't focus enough on it to remember any further details. Fear clutched at her heart as she realized she might just be stuck like this. Despair wasn't far behind the fear as she envisioned herself trying to go around the castle without being seen, which would be impossible. The paintings would give away what they saw, and there was no way she could slip into some other robes to hide herself. Her logical mind ticked off everything, and it came down to that she was in serious trouble, and there was no way she could get away with it, not even to see Madam Pomfrey. Someone would see, and then the word would be out. Of Hermione Granger. Mudblood. Monster.

Hermione sniffed, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her green hands. "I am a monster now. I'll never return to normal! Why didn't I read that thing fully? Me, Hermione Granger, the girl who reads everything, didn't read one stupid comic book, now look at me." She moaned, fresh tears trailing down her cheeks as she glanced down at herself, before sobbing into her hands again. "A freak."

Unknown to her, as her sadness and depression deepened, her muscle mass was decreasing, as was the emerald hue of her skin. Her hair was starting to kink once more and trailing upwards along her back as her badly stressed uniform began to loosen. Within a few minutes, and with no pain, her body had taken up its normally small, petite frame. Yet still she cried, convinced all was over as she feared she would be jailed, experimented on, or worse, expelled from the school at the least.

"You shouldn't mope, you're you again!" Myrtle exclaimed as she floated over the stall.

"Wh-what?" Hermione's voice failed her as she looked up at the spirit, fearing the dead girl was playing a horrible prank.

"You're no longer big and green. Still alive though." Myrtle gave the other girl a forlorn gaze as Hermione glanced down at herself and took note of the healthy, pink expanse of skin showing through her open blouse. Pure joy surged through her. "I'm normal! Thank god!" She cried as she stood up and took stock of herself. Unfortunately, both her stretched out panties and skirt dropped to the floor at that moment. Fortunately, her over shirt had also been stretched out and it dropped down to the tops of her thighs as she ran her fingers over her bare arms and hair. "Oh god, it's over!"

Myrtle gave a tiny giggle, prompting the brunette to look at her. "What?"

"Well, I was just thinking…what if it wasn't over? What if you turn back? And just imagine if it was at all the wrong times…" Myrtle's expression of glee and her overall happiness at this created a near palpable aura about her.

Hermoine bit her lip lightly in thought. It was a good question. She would need to figure this problem out and how to correct it, fast. But first, she had to deal with her uniform. Reaching into her overshirt pocket, she pulled out her wand and gestured to the clothing on the floor, followed by the clothing she still had on. "Reparo." Instantly, her clothing was repaired, and she spent the next few minutes redressing herself properly, and then fixing the door she had broke. "I hope it doesn't happen again. I don't have that many uniforms I can afford to lose if I don't have my wand with me."

Rather than trusting to hope though, she fully intended to get her hands on the book and find out for certain.

TBC...