Prompt 45 - flat

Life with Greyback meant dealing with an overabundance of fleas. They infested every inch of the campsite, from the cots they slept on to the clothes they wore, until even their leader found it impossible to escape the barrage of bugs. Not that Greyback seemed to mind. He'd dealt with it for long that he was used to the constant itching and scratching. But Scabior had had enough and decided to take matters into his own hands.

He bought a potion that was supposed to get rid of fleas and forced it down Greyback's throat. The werewolf gagged and tried spitting out the rancid mixture, which resulted in Scabior casting a stunning spell to make him hold still. He waited a few minutes before removing the spell, then quickly backed off in case Greyback decided to have a go at him. But instead of charging at him in a fit of rage, Greyback rolled over in the dirt, his sight swimming as he tried to force himself to his feet.

"Greyback?" Scabior raised an eyebrow, giving him a curious look as he waited for the werewolf to respond. "Are you alright, mate? You look like you're going to be sick."

"I think I need to lay down. Like now, Scabior."

"You're already laying down."

"Then I think I need to melt," Greyback muttered. A groan slipped past his lips, followed by a loud belch that sent the birds fleeing from their nests. "Yeah, I definitely need to melt and be absorbed into the ground. That's how you collapse when you've already collapsed, isn't it?" He then proceeded to drag himself across the forest floor until he reached the nearest tent, crawled inside, and instantly fell asleep.

They thought he would be able to sleep off the side effects of the potion. But as soon as he woke up Greyback transfigured his clothes into a flowery skirt with a matching tank top. He then ran out of the tent saying, "Look everyone! I'm a lady!"

The head Snatcher took one look at him and laughed so hard he nearly rolled off the log and into the campfire. "You can't be a lady!" he said, still rolling in the dirt as Greyback glared at him from across the campsite. "You're too flat chested to be a lady!"

The werewolf looked around and spied a pair of pinecones in the dirt. He scooped them up, stuffed them down his bra and struck a pose like a woman on the catwalk. "There," he said, grinning and looking quite pleased with himself. "Now I'm very much a lady."