Body Parts: Enhanced!—Special thanks to Minerva McGonagall
The wintry rays of sunlight infiltrated the slightly plain classroom, illuminating rows upon rows of desks and chairs and most importantly, listless students. Minerva McGonagall was in the midst of giving a lengthy lecture on human transfiguration, explaining what could go wrong, ways one could perfect the process, etcetera etcetera. Many seemed quite content to lightly doze on their partially opened books, the very page depicting a complicated diagram demonstrating the visibly painful transformation of a human to a wall-unit that had gone horribly awry. The real question remains: why would someone want to transform themselves into a mantelpiece?
Minerva, observant as she was, noted absent-mindedly the ignorance of the rest of the class, save perhaps Hermione Granger, and sighed. This was not the first time that her theoretical classes had been purposefully ransacked by students who just didn't give a damn. Suddenly, her mind formed a plan, a very brilliant plan. She would make the lesson…interesting.
"Class!" she snapped, clicking her bony fingers together and getting the attention from the half of the class.
"PEOPLE!" sounded a roar a lion would envy from one of the front rows. Hermione clearly wasn't pleased. Wide-eyed, the attention of every single student focused on the professor, who privately gave Hermione a rare, tight-lipped smile.
For the first time in who-knows-how-many-years, McGonagall's eyes held a glint, one more magical than any spell or enchantment. Harry noticed the same knowing twinkle in her eye, seen in Dumbledore's clear blue ones on certain rare occasions.
She flicked her wand slightly, shutting snap-shut the blinds and then to the door at the back of the classroom, padlocking it with many bolts. Avidly, her class stared in fascination, and some gulped in anticipation (trepidation)—the teacher had never done this, ever. Even Hermione was shocked face to McGonagall's behavior. Usually, the black-haired teacher was predictable and routine-ish.
"Since you impotent, moronic children can't seem to concentrate for 75 minutes' time, I've decided to render this class more…fun, shall I say. I'll be demonstrating the basic concepts of this unit by using students…from this very classroom. They will not object, because I will therefore give them a year's worth of detention. If this does not work, students, I'm afraid that there is no hope for any of you."
Her tone was disappointed, sarcastic and really…evil. A single breath was not heard as the professor made her way down the rows of students, analyzing each individual thoroughly.
"Mr. Malfoy, please make your way to the front of the classroom, please."
The blond, audacity forgotten—as usual, stepped cautiously next to McGonagall's desk, the attention of every student focused on his pallor. McGonagall, at the back of the class, contented herself by reciting a long, well-planned speech on the Slytherin's family, his title, his wealth…
"Please, can anyone tell me; is this man well-equipped…physically?" The twinkle made a second appearance, a shiny demon that continued to persist, changing the witch's face dramatically, almost revitalizing her youth.
Not a single person raised their hands. Quite a few giggled – boys and girls – and Draco's face colored immediately. He was a beautiful specimen, grey eyes, sleek, platinum blonde hair, a very milky complexion that glowed, but when it came down to it, he had to admit that he had a very small penis.
"Class," started McGonagall with a sly smile while keeping eye contact with the furious boy, "what kind of spell would enhance Mr. Malfoy's 'package'?"
Hermione, trying unproductively not to burst in a fit of girly giggles, raised her hand and gave the correct response. Draco's knees were visibly trembling beneath his robes as he coughed, outraged at the targeted attack on his private parts.
"Good. Now let me reveal how effective this simple spell can be. It works for 5 months, and I can assure you all that it has perfected many witch's' and wizard's' sexual life."
The dark-haired witch's wand pointed the Draco's nether regions and flicked it, saying the enchantment loudly, pronouncing it for every student. The blonde blushed as he felt his body evening out and he checked beneath his robes to verify. He nodded approvingly, a red tinge still colored onto his cheeks.
The majority of the class cried out in mirth as the much prouder, "bigger" man returned to his seat and smiled. Harry Potter turned to glance in Draco's direction, winking naughtily and licking his lips, gazing below his waist whispering naughty words under his breath. This made the other boy grab his dick as he experienced the biggest erection of his life.
McGonagall snapped her fingers, having had enough sexual tension floating around the classroom.
"Now will…Miss Granger take Mister Malfoy's place."
The bushy-haired girl stopped in mid-laugh, paling instantly. Obediently, she marched to her assigned place, pinked-tinged cheeks glowing visibly and obviously radiating an abundance of heat.
Whispers traveled round the classroom. What could her bodily problem be? She was nothing but perfect, as the other jealous girls remarked venomously. She had looked stunning at the Yule Ball, in that lovely blue dress. Even though her hair was a little bushy, it had calmed down over the years…
"I will cut right to the point. Miss Granger, since incorrectly and foolishly using Polyjuice Potion in her second year, has without success tried to eliminate an embarrassing body growth." Ron Weasley groaned in his hand as many girls and boys gasped in surprise.
Hermione's face was a beacon, tomato red, and she clutched her butt firmly. Harry watched in fascination—only he, Ron and certain staff members knew of Hermione's condition. She had accidentally put a cat's hair in the potion instead of a human hair, and instead of transforming for an hour it had taken her over a month to return to her normal, hairless state. Well, obviously, some hair had refused to disappear…
"Okay, so what? I have a hairy ass, nothing to worry about…"
Harry choked on his own saliva, not believing his ears. Apparently, everyone else was choking on quills, candy and spit. It took five minutes to calm the students.
"Anybody know of a particularly difficult spell that specializes in the department?"
Nobody raised their hands (Hermione was the smartest witch in the 6th year). McGonagall somewhat expected this reaction, and went on to tell them that the spell was highly advanced Transfiguration, and that only certain qualified wizards could cast it without having it go horribly astray.
A complicated swish of her wand (no words) later and Hermione reached down to feel her hairless, smooth cheeks and thanked Professor McGonagall.
The rest of the lesson was spent improving nasty infections and disgusting bodily mutations (some of which students had refused to mention), much to the amusement of the students. And they were LEARNING! Minerva congratulated herself with a shot of whisky as she continued her painfully amusing lectures.
At the end of the class, Seamus Finnegan had received new feet (they had purple growths littering them), Parvati Patil had received breasts (self-explanatory), Vincent Crabbe had received a new, smaller penis (he looked like he had rid himself of unnecessary weight), Harry Potter had received nothing, Ron Weasley had received muscles, and Pansy Parkinson had received new teeth (her old ones had turned a horrible grey color and had started rotting from the inside—that's why she would never smile, only smirk).
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy could be seen sneaking off together late at night, sometimes going to deserted classrooms and making love until daybreak, and Ronald Weasley could be seen staring dreamily at Hermione's ass while she bent down to pick up her quills or books.
All in all, many students were quite happy, not to mention embarrassed, and they had learned some valuable lessons about Transfiguration, and most importantly, about themselves.
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