Inside the Hogsmeade Pub Waylon Strutters celebrated the success of his magic joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. He fed quarters into the jukebox, chainsmoked expensive imported cigars and drank Pipe Cleaner after Pipe Cleaner, a fresh new local fad drink made of a mixture of cheap gin and root beer soda. They tasted awful but had the pleasant side effect of getting Waylon quite drunk while looking hip and 'in the know' so kept on forcing them down. He had hoped that drinking such a fashionable beverage would get him laid but it did not seem to be doing the trick and he was basically reconciled to just calling up ol' Unnerving Minerva for a quickie.
"What are you so damnedably chipper for?" a voice over his shoulder wanted to know.
To Waylon's surprise it belonged to Rishi Applegate-Marquez, a successful local photographer he had never met.
Waylon polished off another Pipe Cleaner before answering, "I'm celebrating" he said, looking at Rishi from under his eyelids.
Rishi chuckled good-naturedly, "oh, did they finally make goatfucking legal?"
"Aint never fucked a goat in my life and I'll fight the first sumbitch says I have," Waylon declared defensively.
Rishi laid out a gold crusted 20 dollar bill on the barstool and the bartender hurried back with some Goldschlager in a fancy wine glass for him. "Pretty sure I saw you a'goatfuckin' last weekend," Rishi locked his cocked eyes with Waylon's, "over 'yond that hill just outside of town?" He paused to sip at his goldflaked liquor, savoring it and his own richness, "was out thataway takin' picthers y'see," he held up his complicated, professional looking camera.
Waylon inspected the camera thoroughly and handed it back, "Well," he said, kicking his feet up on the barstool between them, dried cow shit fell off the bottoms in flakes to land intermingled with the peanut shells and hair that was already all tangled up in the thick shag carpeting inside the Hogsmeade Pub.
Waylon lit another cigar, "seems to me you miss-saw what you thought you seen," a torrent of rich blue smoke poured from his nostrils.
"Well if I didn't see you fuckin a goat last weekend why'd I see you thrusting your cod in and out of that goat last weekend?"
"Damn boy, don't you know anything? That wunt no goat jus' ol' Minerva Gonagol"
Rishi was insulted that Waylon seemed to think he was just another big city slicker out in the country as a tourist. He may have made his millions taking expensive photographs but he was country bred and cornbread fed, had the rodeo running through his veins instead of blood and it got him hot under the collar when somebody tried to imply otherwise.
But he decided to keep his cool after all and not start a fight. Secretly he thought Waylon was awesome and wanted to be friends or even bestfriends with him someday. "I know plenty," he responded levelly.
"Then you'd know McGonagol is the town bike and ever-damn-body gets a ride, only she insists on turnin' into an animal first, she don't like gettin' fucked as a human,." He sighed, "which is a shame really, she's pretty enough she don't need to turn into an animal before hand y'know? But hell, beggers caint be choosers."
"Yeah, McGonagol," Rishi agreed, "Last time we fucked she turned into a crow."
Waylon nodded, now convinced, "she likes that crowform of hers, did she give you a beak-job?" he wanted to know.
"No, she rubbed her wings on my dick and said she wanted to give me beak but i was like 'nah'"
Just then a hooded stranger sat down between them, "I fucked McGonagol too," the mysterious figured said, she had a demure ladylike voice.
Waylon and Rishi were impressed none, "so," muttered Rishi.
"Yeah who hasn't is what I'm sayin.," Waylon added.
"You gentlemen misunderstand me," replied the cloaked woman from behind her veil of mystery, "I meant to say I have fucked McGonagol in her human-phsyical form."
"Bull shit," Waylon snapped back immediately.
"Yeah," Rishi chimed in, "she only fucks as an animal."
The hooded stranger folded her arms smugly, "maybe for you, but she hooked up with me in her birthshape, as a human woman. You boys must not have what it takes to satisfy a prime slab of slut like her..."
Waylon took off his cowboy hat indignatnly, "That better be the truth you're spouting off about or there's gonna be problems y'hear?"
Rishi also couldn't believe his ears.
"It is the truth indeed, I laid her out on her bed and slipped a finger at a time up inside her eager gasping pussy till I had her moaning, drooling, and writhing. Then just as she was about to climax I tugged my hand out of her worn out old snatch and backhanded her across her slut face. Left that bitch begging for me to finish her off, soaking in her own juices and sexual desperation."
Now the two bar-patrons had heard everything. "Like fun you did," Rishi spat. He didn't abide being lied to.
"I most certainly did finger that woman," the stranger replied, then reached up to pull down her face-obscuring hood, "Because I am that woman!"
As soon as her veil was withdrawn a cheer and rousing round of applause erupted from everyone in the bar; she was quite the local celebrity. The bartender was overcome with joy to have someone of such caliber drinking at his establishment, "Free Pipe Cleaners for everyone!" he shouted to redoubled mirth from his thirsty, too sober patrons.
Minerva could transfigure herself into many animal forms, often but not always for sex. She had one special form that was unlike any other and had a personality of its own; dogMinerva.
One day when Minerva was transfiguring herself into a border collie to go fetch some important papers for her class she had left in her office she noticed how crazy it felt to turn into a border collie. She turned into frogs and badgers all day long and didn't feel nearly as actually insane as she did when she was haflway turned into a border collie. Out of curiousity she halted the transfiguration early, a feat less disciplined transfigurists could barely dream of, and that is when dogMinerva was born.
Also, while Minerva transfigures into a border collie she becomes taller during the process instead of shorter like you would imagine; this only serves to further fuel the unweildy rage overtakes her whenever she becomes dogMinerva.
In this form she is about 6 and a half feet tall, and almost but not entirley covered in patches of long tangly border collie fur in a threesome of black white and tan. dogMinerva's face is an uncanny sight to all who gaze upon it, she still has most of the features of a demure old school teacher but stretched out over a bristling razor fanged filled half-snout. Hateful saliva pools from out between her jagged doghuman teeth and between her thin black lips. Her blood shot eyes wild with a hatred beyond all reason.
As previously mentioned dogMinerva is criminally insane. When Minerva transfigures partway into a border collie but then stops at the midpoint and becomes dogMinerva she frequently tears her classrooms to shreds in a fit of rage while screaming students scrambe away to safety. Although at the end of the day even Dumbledore himself has to agree that it is an effective teaching method.
"Keep up the great work, Minerva, we can't have those students becoming too lax just before the big exam." he said, and so she kept on with it.
Before you know it dogMinerva had everyone talking, even the students who would often huddle together in some dim out-of-the-way corridor and compare scars and war stories.
There are some right now! Let's see what they have to say about all this...
"This is from where dogMinerva tried to bite my hand off she did," said a disfigured 3rd year girl from Scotland. She held out her hand for the others gathered round to appreciate her missing fingers.
The boy across from her lifted up his robes to show a large bruise and welt on his shoulder, "she threw her lecturn at me," he whispered in a shakey, reedy voice, "it shattered and a sliver of wood pushed through into my lungs so now I can't run or go up stairs anymore... Madame Pomfrey said if the wood sliver had gone just half an inch to the side I'd be paralyzed now."
"Just like Kraug..." the girl with the missing fingers chimed in.
But anyway., dogMinerva took a special disliking to the Patil twins until one of them died, she forgot which one. Back when there was two of them they would consistently interrupt her important lessons by talking. They would never go so far as to actually speak but Minerva knows how twins are, with their special twin-language that only twins can understand; so when she saw one scratching her ear then the other flaring her nostrils she had no other choice but to assume they were flagrantly disrespecting both her, her authority, and her classroom, and would transform instantly and be upon the two terrified twins of Patil in a blur of fur and flying foamy saliva, claws and tongue flailing, a bowel tightening howl vomiting forth from her twisted deformed shape.
This became a regular occurrence, since as far as Minerva could tell, the two were in a constant sate of near-telepathic communication and as such in violation of class rules. By the time the girls where in their 3rd year they would cease all movement and remain locked into place like terrorstruck statues while dogMinerva circled them, sniffing and growling.
This played a major part in their eventual decision to fake Pavarti's death.
"If one of us pretends to be dead then Minerva won't think we're constantly using our twin-sense to talk silently during class," Padma Patil said.
Also they were both very tired of how people constantly mistake them for one another, "the only way for us to have a normal life is by pretending I am dead and then I'll pretend to be you every other day and we'll just take turns being Padma while the other hides out," Pavarti agreed with her clever twin.