Vincent Crabbe Ficlet
Summary: "Vincent Crabbe hated little girls. More to the point, he hated being one."
Rating: PG-13
Main Character: Vincent Crabbe
Word Count: 357
Polyjuice Portrait
Vincent Crabbe hated little girls. More to the point, he hated being one. Mind you, the girl bits were a bit of an interesting novelty in the beginning (although he nearly went spare the first time his cock tucked up between his legs and retreated into his body like a rolled-up sock), but little girl bits were, well, little, and anyway, just thinking about them made him feel vaguely dirty in a queasy, unpleasant way.
More than anything, though, he hated losing his size. He wasn't particularly attached to his face or his hair, but his size made him who he was. When he could haul a terrified firstie in the air with one massive hand, when he could clear most any seat he wanted by towering menacingly over its cowering occupant, when his wide shoulders and proud paunch were straining the seams of his schooolrobes--then he knew that he was Vincent Crabbe. He seemed to lose himself every time he shrank into another of Draco's seemingly endless supply of delicate waifs.
He wouldn't have minded it nearly as much (in fact, he might've volunteered enthusiastically) if he could have become Millicent Bulstrode. She was only a few inches shorter than he and perhaps a trifle wider. Like him and Greg, she had substance and solidity. (She also had the biggest tits in the school, and he could have taken advantage of the usually deserted corridor to give them a proper inspection, but that would've been only a fringe benefit.) Unfortunately, Draco had swiftly quashed that suggestion with his ruthless logic. Vincent had argued that as Millicent he could rough up anyone nosing around without causing suspicion, but Draco had spouted some babble about the necessity of limiting potential interactions and declared the subject closed with such grim finality that Vincent didn't have the courage to protest. One didn't challenge Draco these days, even if he was acting like Barnabas the Barmy in the midst of his ill-fated preparations for Troll Lake.
And so, Vincent continued following Draco's orders, choking down goblets of sludgy Polyjuice Potion and losing himself as the flesh melted off his bones.
Rating: PG-13
Main Character: Vincent Crabbe
Word Count: 357
Polyjuice Portrait
Vincent Crabbe hated little girls. More to the point, he hated being one. Mind you, the girl bits were a bit of an interesting novelty in the beginning (although he nearly went spare the first time his cock tucked up between his legs and retreated into his body like a rolled-up sock), but little girl bits were, well, little, and anyway, just thinking about them made him feel vaguely dirty in a queasy, unpleasant way.
More than anything, though, he hated losing his size. He wasn't particularly attached to his face or his hair, but his size made him who he was. When he could haul a terrified firstie in the air with one massive hand, when he could clear most any seat he wanted by towering menacingly over its cowering occupant, when his wide shoulders and proud paunch were straining the seams of his schooolrobes--then he knew that he was Vincent Crabbe. He seemed to lose himself every time he shrank into another of Draco's seemingly endless supply of delicate waifs.
He wouldn't have minded it nearly as much (in fact, he might've volunteered enthusiastically) if he could have become Millicent Bulstrode. She was only a few inches shorter than he and perhaps a trifle wider. Like him and Greg, she had substance and solidity. (She also had the biggest tits in the school, and he could have taken advantage of the usually deserted corridor to give them a proper inspection, but that would've been only a fringe benefit.) Unfortunately, Draco had swiftly quashed that suggestion with his ruthless logic. Vincent had argued that as Millicent he could rough up anyone nosing around without causing suspicion, but Draco had spouted some babble about the necessity of limiting potential interactions and declared the subject closed with such grim finality that Vincent didn't have the courage to protest. One didn't challenge Draco these days, even if he was acting like Barnabas the Barmy in the midst of his ill-fated preparations for Troll Lake.
And so, Vincent continued following Draco's orders, choking down goblets of sludgy Polyjuice Potion and losing himself as the flesh melted off his bones.