Disclaimer: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, I'm just playing with the lovely characters and world JKR has created for us.
Prompt: As a Sixth Year, Tonks uses her metamorphmagus abilities to help out a friend in need.
Tonks twiddled the heavy quill in her hands.
"You've just got to pretend to be Heather. I have all the notes here," said Charlie, laying down a stack of parchment rolls on the table.
"How did you get these?" asked Tonks, looking suspiciously at the rolls of parchment.
"Heather's friend, that girl, Marion - Mallory - Marianne, that blonde girl Heather's always talking to, she helped me loads," said Charlie, spreading some pictures of Heather Avalltra on the table and unrolling some of the rolls. "Apparently Marion-what's-her-name has quite a crush on me."
"Did you do the worried-hair look?" asked Tonks, grinning at Charlie.
Charlie did the aforementioned worried-hair look, ruffling his hair, then pulling the hand down the line of his jaw, as he looked lost and pensive.
"You don't look half-bad doing that," Tonks admitted. She still punched his arm. "That's for taking advantage of the poor girl."
"'S not my fault I'm so good-looking," said Charlie.
"Only too bad you're not interested in girls," said Tonks. After a moment she added, "or guys."
Locked in a bathroom stall, Tonks concentrated on the small picture of Heather that Charlie had given her. She had watched Heather the past few days, even going out of her way to talk to the Seventh Year Ravenclaw a few times.
Finally she scrunched up her face in concentration. Tonks felt her skin stretching and her hair lengthening, her lips widening and her bones rearranging themselves, all without pain. She scrambled around in her pocket for the small mirror. If Tonks hadn't seen herself so differently countless times already, she would've startled. Instead, now she just looked admiringly at her new face.
"Merlin, I look good," she said to herself, admiring her new lips, and puffy blonde hair, a complete one-eighty from her previous straight light green hair, and colourful make-up. She transfigured her bag to one that looked identical to Heather's, and her robes to the Ravenclaw robes.
Before she unlocked the stall door, a thought flashed through her mind. What if Heather sees me? She shook herself, and unlocked the door. She trusted Charlie when he said he would take care of Heather.
Tonks sat down on a stand, relatively close to the quidditch pitch. She loved quidditch as much as the next witch, but watching practice was more boring than she had expected.
Charlie expected her to take meticulous notes. As if. She would just use a recording spell, to videotape the whole practice, a useful spell her father had invented, inspired by the muggle news studio he worked at.
"Heather," Amery came out of the Hufflepuff change rooms, dark hair still wet from the shower, "hey, I wasn't expecting you here."
"Oh," said Tonks, making sure to twist her hair between her fingers like she had seen Heather do countless times, "I just thought it would be fun to watch my boyfriend practice."
She stepped closer to him.
"I thought you don't like quidditch?" he said, hugging her.
"Not when I get to watch my favourite keeper play." Tonks cuddled into his arms.
"Heather," began Amery.
Tonks interrupted him with a kiss.
Afterwards, she ran, disgusted, to the girls washroom. She had already changed back to her usual appearance, and wore her usual Hufflepuff robes.
"Eurgh. You'd expect him to be a better kisser, the way Heather gushes on about him," said Tonks, trying to rinse out her mouth with tap water.
A few weeks later, Tonks had it. She was done with Amery's terrible kisses, and Charlie bugging her about quidditch every time Tonks saw him. She was fed up with being late to duelling club, which overlapped with the Thursday and Monday evening practices of the team.
"Charlie," whispered Tonks behind a tapestry after duelling club one Thursday, "I can't keep doing this. Do you know how bad a kisser Amery Clearwater is?"
Charlie groaned quietly. "Tonks. The point of this is not to kiss the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team."
"You expect me to pretend to be his girlfriend, and not kiss him? Especially with the way he looks?" At Charlie's confused look, she added, "Have you seen the guy? Half the school's girls a drooling after him."
"Tonks," said Charlie, annoyed. "You have to get me information about the Hufflepuff team. Not kiss their captain"
"As much as I like to be in on your 'spy missions'," she made air quotes that were sure to annoy Charlie, "there are only so many Amery Clearwater kisses I can endure, and he insists on many, and only so many times Professor Denaira will allow me to be late to duelling club."
"Is duelling club really so important?" he said, a bit angry now.
"Yes, Charlie," she whisper-shouted at him, mindful of the fact that they were standing behind a tapestry.
Before she could continue, Charlie pulled her into a passage behind the tapestry, so they could talk without whispering.
"Yes, Charlie," she started again, louder this time, "I am done with pretending to be Heather Avalltra. I can't stand," she shuddered, "Amery Clearwater. The arse wants to talk about himself the whole time, and is, as I've already said, a terrible kisser. It feels like a lethargic, dripping wet slug. Eurgh."
"I did not need that much detail," said Charlie, shuddering as well.
"Not to mention, quidditch practices are open to everyone, not that anyone ever goes, and I now know why. It's because it's fucking boring."
"But it'll be suspicious if I turn up there everyday," he argued.
"Well," said Tonks, flipping her hair overdramatically, "you'll find a way to deal with it, won't you, Quidditch Captain Weasley? For your precious quidditch team."
She stalked off. When Charlie followed her, she ignored him.
At the next Hufflepuff quidditch practice, Tonks/Heather was nowhere to be seen. The day after, Heather and Amery were no longer an item, a piece of gossip that spread through the school like wildfire.
A/N: There you go, hope you liked it. Tonks was surprisingly easy to write, I expected her to be much harder to keep in line.