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With their canine paws, neither was able to stop the trousers falling from their hips and pooling around them on the cold stone floor. Only their furry thighs thinning and becoming more dog-like.
As one, the pair were driven forward, collapsing onto all fours, the soft pads of their fore paws breaking the fall. A startled yelp, howl spilling from the muzzle of each dog.
Hermione watched fascinated seeing the potion was still on track, and neither Harry nor Ron were in any pain. She saw four canine eyes widen in fear and confusion.
Only just resisting the temptation to smile as their tails pushed outwards. Harry's face was entirely transformed into an Irish wolfhound. Despite this, there was still a recognisably human expression on his face. She ruffled the fur on his head, and instantly the concern was erased as a large red tongue slipped past his teeth. Happy panting, and animal instincts now taking a part in his decisions.
Sinking down to rest on one knee, she turned to Ron, or rather the Scottish deerhound that he'd become. He too responding to his mistress' touch with his new nature leading his response.
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