Chapter 93: 21st September 1991, Saturday: Part 4

George was holding out hope the next floor up would be in better condition otherwise he might transform in the wine cellar. He ascended the stairwell and was surprised to see it was in much better condition than the one in the basement, not only was every step accounted for but none of them was damaged. This clearly showed that this house was not poorly made and was simply neglected, perhaps a once-wealthy wizard family lived here and abandoned it for some reason.

Most magic families lived in the same house for generations, the Malfoys for example had lived in their manor for over five hundred years. It would have to take a massive upheaval to make a family abandon their house, such as a wizarding war or rebellion. George would need to check if there's any documentation in the Hogwarts Library relating to this house or the family which once lived in it. He might even get lucky and find some hidden treasure if he ripped the place apart, but that was most likely the Indiana Jones movies distorting his perception of ancient ruins.

George's thought process was interrupted when he ascended the first floor and felt a sudden jolt of warmth coming from his chest. This sensation was followed by all of the bruises on his body heating up and the skin tightening around his muscles, the discomfort was sudden and increased in intensity at an alarming rate. George had to put his ideas about inspecting the house for its origins to one side for now since he recognised the symptoms as the start of his transformation, the painful side effects came on much faster and stronger than ever before. He doubted that he could hold on for more than five minutes before his body forced him to change, he was used to having an hour at least to prepare.

With that in mind, George quickly ascended the stairs until he reached the landing and saw a pair of double doors that were partially open. George hurriedly pushed them open and staggered into the room, he looked around and recognised the space as none other than the master bedroom. This room was significantly larger and cleaner than the living room and would be a suitable place to transform. He wasn't at risk of banging his scaly head since the ceiling alone must have been fifteen feet high. The floor was in much better condition than the living room since there was only a layer of white dust littering it, there was no sign of mould or rot.

The only thing that needed to be done before his transformation was to move the grand piano which was in the centre of the room, he would end up crushing it if it remained where it was. The piano looked in quite a good condition for its age, except for the lid which had been ripped in two, and it would have been a shame to needlessly destroy it. He had always planned on learning how to play the piano at some point, maybe he could repair this one and start practising. George walked up to the piano and grabbed it with both of his hands, the wooden frame effortlessly flexed under his grip.

When he pushed the piano, George felt the muscles in his chest spasm and his skin tearing open around his armpits. The piano abruptly slid across the room and slammed into the wall opposite George which caused the entire house to shudder. Upon collision, the legs of the piano gave out and the entire thing plummeted to the ground and fell into pieces. George could feel a cold sensation dripping down his shirt from his armpits, he quickly took off his robes and saw his white shirt was dyed red. At that moment, he knew that his estimations had been very wrong and there was no more time left. Unless George wanted to bleed out, he needed to fully push himself to transform as soon as possible.

George didn't even bother to take off the rest of his clothes since it would take too much time, the only thing he prioritised was pulling out his enchanted sack from his trousers and throwing it towards the four-poster bed. He threw it with a bit too much enthusiasm and hit one of the posts turning it into a three-poster bed, he hoped that the sack hadn't been damaged and the woodworm-riddled beam had cushioned the impact. George proceeded to kneel on the ground and concentrate on using his wandless magic to heat his body.

Whilst using a similar mindset as conjuring the flame on his fingertips, George forcefully increased the temperature of his body to accelerate the rate of his transformation. He deliberately made his blood boil and roast his internal organs, sweat started pouring out of him by the bucket full. It was only when he felt like he was inside a furnace that the transformation would begin. Normally his body would do this automatically if he waited long enough but it seemed that this transformation was different from the rest.

George inadvertently tensed all the muscles in his body which caused all the bruises to open simultaneously and blood to start pouring out, it wouldn't be long before he blacked out from blood loss. He could feel his frantically beating heart all over his body, it was getting louder and louder to the point it was deafening. Once his chest felt like it had been submerged in lava, all of the clothes on George's body started tightening. His dyed red shirt's buttons pinged off one by one as the muscles in his chest grew in size. His pants started tearing at the seams and revealed his muscles rippling like snakes slithering under his skin.

George's tie started to choke him as his neck expanded in length and width until the fabric was torn apart by a spike protruding out the back of his spine. Several more rhino horn-like spikes started growing out down his lengthening spine and violently pierced his tearing skin in a spray of bloody viscera. His belt was next to break as new pointy vertebrae started growing out of his tail bone and a fleshy mass, like a large scaly tumour, bulged at his rear in another fountain of blood. All of his skin began tearing apart at the bruises as he grew larger, chunks of flesh peeled off his body and fell to the ground into a bloody puddle that had started to form by his feet.

The leather from the tips of his shoes was pierced by long razor-sharp talons that grew out from, what used to be, his toes. George fell forward from his kneeling position and supported his body on all fours with his morphing arms as nausea began to overwhelm him. He stared at his hands and saw his fingers lengthen drastically as a new layer of grey skin formed between each digit, his arms had changed into disfigured batlike wings in a matter of seconds.

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The most excruciating part of this experience was the agonising sensation coming from his head which felt like his skull was being broken into a million pieces and reassembled in a different order. He could feel his lips ripping apart as his jaw rapidly grew in size, his teeth fell out and were replaced with razor-sharp fangs. His eyes felt like they were about to burst under the pressure of his eye sockets crushing them as they deformed to face in opposite directions, his depth perception was sacrificed as he gained a three-hundred-and-twenty-degree view of his surroundings. The back of his skull was bombarded with a horrendous stabbing pain as over a dozen wide horns slowly pierced through the muscle and flesh.

Most of the pain was emitting from his nose as it changed into a snout which felt like a tow truck was prising his face from the rest of his head. George tried to cope with the excruciating pain but it only got worse as his body continued to grow at an accelerated rate, his monstrous wailing reverberated through the Shrieking Shack. It all became too much for him once his internal organs started to get crushed and rearranged, he keeled over and fell unconscious with the hope that when he woke up the transformation would have ended.

George opened his eyes and was greeted with a similar master bedroom to the one he had just been in a few moments ago except with one small difference, the room had drastically shrunk in size. He struggled to lift his heavy head from the ground and looked around with his new panoramic vision to see everything a third the size it had been moments before he fell asleep. Waking up after an intense transformation and the world seeming smaller wasn't unusual to George, since he had done this many times before, but this miniaturisation was taken to another level.

Now that he recalled his horrific transformation, the pain intensity he had gone through had been far worse than anything before. George would go as far as to say that the agony he had just experienced could be compared with the Cruciatus curse, it was truly a pain that transcended torture. Also, the period between his body heating up and the transformation beginning had been shortened massively to the point that he barely had any time to prepare. He couldn't help but wonder if this all happened to be related to his unstable emotional state which he had only just started to regain control of. He couldn't be sure since he felt perfectly fine now, both in body and soul.

Although George was dreading it, he looked down at his body to see, besides the size difference, what had changed. He was greeted with a much more defined and animalistic physique than he had ever had before, nothing was resembling a human before him. His legs were bent into an S shape and his feet resembled a dinosaur's like a t-rex, the talons alone were several inches long and razor-sharp. His arms had grown in length massively and his long spindly fingers were tipped with black claws and were connected with a thick webbing filled with pulsing blue veins.

His chest had ballooned with muscles and his abdomen had sunken behind his ribs like a bodybuilder performing a vacuum pose. His tail had grown longer than the length of his neck and torso combined making it his longest limb by far, even the spikes sticking out of his vertebrae had grown over a foot long. All these appendages of his body were covered in a thick grey hide with large scales covering his chest, thighs and tail.

George clambered to his feet and noticed that his posture had changed to the point that he didn't feel comfortable standing on only two legs, his frontal body weight made him feel like he was about to fall on his face if he didn't dig his talons into the ground. Because he didn't want to damage the floor, George supported his body weight with his elongated arms. He felt most natural resting his weight on what used to be his wrists and folding his wings against his chest, he used his tail's weight to make micro corrections to keep himself steady since he was still feeling a little woozy after getting up.

Even though he was on all fours, George stretched his neck and could tell that he had grown in height by at least four feet since his last transformation. He looked over to the corner of the room where there was a large silver mirror above a fireplace, it had rusted and dulled to the point it could barely show a reflection. Regardless, George knew that he could no longer hold his little pocket mirror in his claws without fear of dropping it so that nearly-useless rusty mirror would have to do. He hobbled over to the mirror like a newborn pup and raised a wing to gently wipe away the dust and cobwebs obscuring his reflection.

George saw a blurry image of his head looking back at him and recoiled after being surprised by how much his face had changed, he didn't recognise himself in the slightest. What was once an abomination of man and lizard is now a scaly mythical beast of legend. His neck had an elegant curve like a swan's and was adorned with thick scales like organic medieval armour, but, his face was stealing his attention. A long thin scaly snout and a proud brow with sunken crimson eyes, a mane of horns and rows of sharp teeth shaped like daggers. If he had any doubt as to what he was becoming before today then this advancement in his transformation solidified what he was to become.

With the long spiky tail, bat-like wings, scaly feet tipped with talons, thick reptile-like grey skin and a face that would give death-eaters nightmares; George was definitively becoming a genuine fire-breathing dragon. His head was racing with speculation and assumptions, all of which he had no way to prove. The only person who knew the answers to his questions was not the sort of person who freely gave information when it wasn't necessary. George let out a very deep and gravelly sigh after receiving yet another reminder of how little control he had over his life, his sadness could be seen in the eyes of his reflection.

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