My Name is Blonde

Chapter 2

Part one- The trouble with being a redhead

The trouble with being a redhead was that your hair always stood out. And since Ron's fame from contributing to the Final Battle, red hair seems to scream "Weasley" somehow. I've heard that several red heads have had to endure the "any relation to the Weasleys?" question (though of course in my case the answer was "well, yes, actually"). Oh, and there's the whole "redheads have terrible tempers" thing that really gets me.

Anyhow, it was thanks to my being a redhead that had me sitting in Tonk's studio with Cho and Hermione- much too risky to sneak into The Squeaky Teacup undisguised. Especially if I happen to bump into the acquaintances of Draco "first-class-git" Malfoy or Blaise "I'll-chase-anything-that-wears-a-skirt" Zabini there.

But hey, I'm sidetracking. My point was that, whilst Cho and Hermione always have to be made up when they go undercover, what with them being so famous, I would usually be let off the hook unless there was a fair chance of me bumping into someone I knew. So much for my luck being with me today.

Whilst I sulked, Tonks was fussing over Hermione's face. Only Hermione wasn't in a mood to be fussed over.

"We really should try and make the 10 o'clock shift, Tonks. Can't you speed things up a little?"

"Mione dear, they pay me to give you convincing disguises. I can't make you up on the odd minute, yeah?" Tonks said, knocking over a jar of powder with her elbow.

"But Tonks, this is important!"

"But Mione, you think everything is important."

And so they bantered on for a minute or so, as usual, while Cho and I watched in amusement. Hermione won, of course.

"Fine. There is a way I can make you up in time for the 10 o'clock shift. But the results won't be nearly as satisfactory-"

"Oh, I don't mind-"

"I know you don't, that's why I suggested it," Tonks grumbled. "I'll just change the most prominent features of your face, and no one will be able to place you. The changes have to be extreme though."

And with that she straightened Hermione's hair and enlarged her nose quite a bit. Hermione grinned.

"Really, I don't know why I put up with you, Mione. It's my job, you know," Tonks complained as she moved on to Cho.

"Aw Tonks, you know you love me really," Hermione said, an uncharacteristically sheepish grin on her face.

I laughed.

***

Five minutes later, I was alone in the studio with Tonks. Hermione and Cho had just left, Hermione hurrying Cho along ("Timing is everything, Cho!").

"So what's it going to be, Tonks?" I asked, smiling at the make up artist who'd made us up on every single operation for the last year.

Tonks, having just changed her hair violet, glanced at her clipboard.

"I have you down for a blonde today- going for the blonde hair blue eyes look."

"Aw, not blonde again!"

As Tonks finished dabbing potions on my face a question suddenly popped into my head.

"If you're an Auror, why are you wasting time making us up?"

Tonks smiled. "It's not a twenty-four-hour job, y'know. Aren't I allowed to have hobbies? Besides, it's really fun making you all look bad," she finished, grinning.

I spluttered slightly. "You mean this is just a hobby of yours? But I thought you said you were paid for this! And shouldn't you be really busy as an Auror?"

"Oh, I get paid, but mostly because Emmeline is very generous. It's not just a hobby- I like helping B.L.O.N.D.E out against the dark side, y'know. And Auror's have been less busy since Voldemort's defeat."

I nodded, understanding. "Well you are the best make up artist we've ever had...though are you sure that quick job you did on Hermione and Cho is going to be enough?"

Tonks smiled again. "Well when you really exaggerate something, people'll only remember that feature. It also helps to diminish any distinct features you have, which was why I smoothed down Mione's hair. And face-altering charms are really rare, so witches and wizards basically don't expect people to walk around with altered features. There- we're done. I'd better check on Moody and see if I'm needed for anything, so I'll see you later yeah?"

Once alone, I looked into the mirror and sighed. I had straight blonde hair, a shrunk nose, and two ridiculously big eyes. No one would be recognising me anytime soon.

I turned, ready to Apparate to The Squeaky Teacup (where the conservative and supposedly "squeaky-clean" government parties gathered) when the door opened and Professor Snape walked in, looking evil.

I yelped in surprise.

Professor Snape looked at me solemnly.

"I figured the large eyes would give you that "wide-eyed-innocence" look you might be needing later."

*****

Part two- Books and Looks

"Good morning. I'm Jasmine Karls, assistant nurse of The Ministry's RED (Research for Emergencies Department)." On cue, I flipped out my "identification card" briskly. "Given the somewhat unusual condition of Ms. Marsh we feel that it would be most appropriate if we could take her back for some studies."

The sour-faced receptionist looked sceptical. I'd have to try harder.

"From the hospital reports our specialists have come to the conclusion that her body's strong reaction to the oral induction of foreign, possibly toxic particles have been induced by a slight viral infection, such as the common cold, due to the toxins reacting and resulting in the pH of her blood being altered. This is quite a distressing development that we feel requires Ministry attention as we believe that" -here I paused for effect and gave her a snotty look down my nose- "such data displays the possibility of a highly contagious disease developing if a mutation were to occur, giving the abnormal state of her body. We don't quite think you're hospital would be up to it-"

Well, that's what Hermione had wanted me to say. In fact, that was part of the mini-speech she'd written for me whilst Tonks made me up "to convince the receptionist in case she's difficult". And it was sweet of her.

But if there was one thing Hermione lacked, it was the ability to judge people. No- I take that back- she's actually quite good at it. Just think about what she'd said to Harry after our "date" at Hogsmeade. Telling me he thought Hermione was ugly, acting jealous about Cedric...those were the exact things I'd wanted from Harry at the time. She'd known exactly how I felt before she even knew me. And she doesn't judge by looks, either- just look at how angry she was when Ron made comments about Eloise Midgen's acne problem.

The only problem is that Hermione has certain ideals. And they're unmovable. Back in sixth year, she was always defending Kreacher, making allowances for him because he was part of her House Elf ideal. She respected all the Professors (apart from Umbridge, but, well, come on) to the extent that she'd believed that Lockhart's lessons were good (that, and the fact that he was gorgeous) until the end of third year. And with the receptionist, Hermione's judgement was also coloured, simply because her love of her Muggle job made her believe that all the workers in the hospital would be serious and dedicated.

From what I could see though, the receptionist looked sceptical simply because she was in a foul mood, and terribly bored with her job.

"Ministry orders," I shrugged indifferently. "No idea what they'd want with Marsh, but it's not like my boss ever makes sense." After rolling my eyes I ran my eyes around the stacks of files, hands tucked in my robe pocket, as if I didn't mind taking all morning to complete my job.

The receptionist almost smiled at me. "I'll sign her out. You can take her from room 105 anytime you want."

*****

Five minutes later I walked into a corner of the crowded hospital cafeteria, where Hermione was already waiting.

"Jasmine!" she squealed, throwing her arms around me. "The room is watched by two men and a woman," she whispered into my ear.

I drew back and smiled happily at her. "The later they find out the better. Got any of that potion from your second year handy?"

She frowned but quickly hid it, giving me a bright grin instead. "No can do. But you're right." She paused for a moment and then gave a genuine grin when she saw the cafeteria clock and saw that it was just 10.

She lowered her voice. "Let's go to somewhere less crowded. I have an idea, and explaining it all through this façade would be more than I could bear."

*****

Ten minutes later, my eyes were shut and I was lying in a hospital bed.

"Nice one, Herm," I thought to myself, fighting the urge to frown.

I was fairly sure we were nearing room 105 now, and desperately wanted to take a glance at the three people who were watching the room- only, obviously, any movement on my part would have aroused their suspicion. It was on account of those three spies that Hermione had adamantly refused to lie in the bed and let me push it instead.

At first, she'd pointed out that the makeover Tonks had pulled on her made her less attractive than me this time, which would give her the advantage of being less noticeable. When I'd refused to accept that, she pointed out that I had no idea what the spies looked like.

"I'm the one who's seen them, so I'm the one who'll be able to take care of them," she insisted firmly.

And there was no arguing with her after that.

I went over the plan in my head. Hermione would pretend to be a nurse working on the 10 o'clock shift, and hopefully there wouldn't be any awkward questions. After we both got into Marsh's room, our lack of Polyjuice Potion meant we would have to try our hand at a few of those feature-altering spells we'd seen Tonks do, and hopefully I'd look similar enough to Marsh to temporarily satisfy anyone who decided to check on her. After giving Marsh similar treatment Hermione would wheel Marsh out, cast Imperius on her once she was out of sight, and then walk her out of the hospital. We hadn't worked out how I'd get away.

"Ok, Cho." I heard Hermione whisper. I got up quickly and grinned as I saw that Hermione had not only gotten us a place right beside Marsh, she'd drawn the curtain around us completely too. We took out our wands, ready to give my face a Lucy-Marsh-makeover...

...only to have my face deformed quite badly after three minutes of trying.

"So this is why most witches prefer simple make-up spells," I muttered, cringing in spite of myself at how dreadful I probably looked.

Hermione was seething with frustration. "Ok, let's try starting from scratch." She pointed her wand at my face and whispered "Finite Incantatem!"

I gave a sigh of relief as I felt my looks- my real ones, not the ones Tonks had put on me- returned. Whilst looking good was probably the least important thing right now, the least it did was serve to make me feel a little better.

Although now we had the problem that I was not only without Lucy Marsh's face, but also any chance of leaving the room unnoticed. Being a world famous seeker tended to have its problems.

"What are we going to do?"

"I hope I'm not intruding on something important, Herm, Chang, but I don't think your approach is going to work. Why didn't you use Polyjuice?"

I turned and saw a thin, brown-haired lady with a faceful of acne emerge from under the hospital curtains. From her gasp I could tell that Hermione had recognised her right away.

*****

"Why the shocked face? You probably figured it out before I told you; you know I work according to the situation!"

Not believing my ears, I continued to stare at the figure that had suddenly emerged. The figure seemed unsettled and continued looking at me for a few moments, until suddenly it felt its nose and laughed.

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry Gin- I'd entirely forgotten that I'd put Snape's face on before I came in. Moody wanted me to pay a visit to McGonagall and I didn't want to arouse suspicions, you know? And then I was about to find a fireplace when I realised you'd probably want this," Tonks babbled, changing back whilst handing me a small bottle. Her sleeve knocked against a few brushes, making one fall.

After I'd thanked her and Apparated to The Squeaky Teacup, I realised that I hadn't paid any attention to the bottle yet. I pulled it out of my pocket and took a look at the label.

Betty Bodd's Superfast Hair-Colour Remover, it read. Helps you remove any hair-colouring spells in mere minutes, whilst leaving your hair with a natural-looking sheen.

Laughing, I replaced the bottle in my pocket.

*****

"Eloise!" Hermione gasped, making a sudden movement towards her before stopping herself.

I could understand how she felt. Eloise Midgen was a friend of Hermione's, yet Hermione had to keep her guard up professionally- and work out why Midgen knew so much and how she had managed to recognise her despite her disguise.

"Eloise," Hermione said again, breathing heavily. "What are you doing here and how did you know who I am?"

Midgen smiled, a little sadly. "Let's put it this way, Herm. If there was one person in this world who knew the importance of not judging people by their looks, it would be me." She paused for a moment before continuing. "I've been bitten by a snake, Herm. I just happened to be awake when you pushed Chang in, and I recognised the way you moved. But that's not important. The important thing is that you want to get that lady out of here, and I can help you."

And, as she spoke, her face morphed into the face of Ron Weasley.

If it weren't for the fact that we knew Tonks, we'd have been shocked. As it were, Hermione gave a quiet squeal of delight.

"Eloise! You've learned how to become a Metamorphmagus!"

*****

Having first decided a glasses-on, no-nonsense demeanour, I eventually decided to go for silly, awe-struck and flattering instead. Whilst most Ministry Wizards would have respected the former more, bloodlines were not the only things the conservative right-wing Parties were conservative about.

Basically, they were slaves to flattery. They loved feeling superior.

Batting the big innocent eyes Tonks had made for me, I smile at the waiter and order a cup of tea (no Trool's Delight this time- these conservative members were stiff and sensible) as I scan the restaurant to decide on the table to wringle information out of. All I needed was a name or two about who was behind it, after all. Eventually my eyes settled on Wilbert Waddleway and Jonathan Stringer, eating with a bunch of their underlings. Both coming from wealthy, influential families and related to former conservative politicians, they were too important to be left out of plans (or, in this case, under-the-table plans that weren't "official" plans), too rich to be booted out, and not smart enough to not let something slip.

The problem though, was that whilst Tonks had given me a good-looking makeover this time (like she said, she works according to the situation- and in this case looks could be useful), the Wizards hadn't shown me much obvious attention apart from looking round at me as I came in. This obviously came from their policy of acting proper and only talking business whenever they were around their colleagues.

These right-wings believed in marrying healthy, sensible women that had decent grades and good family reputations that then stay home and bred several healthy, magical children. They should always be happy, take pride in their work, support their husband, act respectably at formal occasions, and knit fluffy socks for their children. The children should be happy and healthy, and say "I love you mommy, daddy" every night before they sleep. They should be obedient and learn at least two impressive extra-curricular activities. As they grow they should have a healthy amount of independence whilst retaining a strong sense of family and good relationships with their parents (not like the Bad Kids. The Bad Kids are bad and rebellious and have no proper values). They should earn good grades at school and at the age of seventeen shall meet a class-mate that shall become their high-school sweet heart that they shall end up marrying and having more happy children with.

Of course, what many of the members did behind closed doors was basically ignored. Which was also why I felt sure it wouldn't be too hard for me to find an excuse to get near one of them.

The important thing though was to get near their table before they stopped talking as a group. And I'd need to take more drastic measures for that. Spotting Stringer get up for the toilet, I seize the opportunity.

"Oh! Uh- I'm so sorry! I'm really sorry! I have no idea what's wrong with me! Oh, you're shirt's wet! Are you alright? *giggles* Dear Merlin, you look familiar! Why, aren't you that dashing politician Jonathan Stringer? Why, this is such an honour! Oh, I can't believe this! Imagine, me and Jonathan Stringer, bumping into each other in a restaurant!"

Yes, I know the "bumping into someone and spilling your drink" move is a cliché one. But from the flattered look on Stringer's face- I could already see him launching into his "smooth, out-to-impress" mode- I could tell that it had worked.

"Jonathan Stringer at your service, my lady," he smiled, reaching out to steady me.

"Oh, I'm Miranda Heartstring," I improvise, fighting the urge to laugh in his face. Honestly, this man was more than a right-ing conservative- he talked like someone out of the middle ages! "But all of my friends call me Anda," I add, giving him a sugary look.

"Well Miss Heartstring, I can't say I think much of your dining etiquette. One thinks that maybe one ought to take you out to dinner for a few lessons on basic behaviour- Anda," he whispered, trying to sound suave.

Dammit! I DIDN'T want to have to sit through dinner with an old-fashioned smooth-operator wannabe. I had to get over to the table NOW. I pause for a moment, inwardly panicking, then decide to just throw myself over somehow.

"That sounds lovely...Oh!" I exclaim, pretending to notice how my tea had spilt all over my sleeve as well. "Why, I can't believe I've gotten my shirt wet too! Oh, Jonathan Stringer (I'd considered going even more sugary and calling him Jonny, but figured that men like him preferred a note of admiration), would you just happen to have a tissue handy? I'd perform a drying charm but they are so annoying. Why, yes, I think I see a packet right over by your table! You're such an organised man, Jonathan Stringer!"

Dragging him back to his table, I briefly wonder if I'd overdone it, but took one look at his face saw that I was doing fine. And if he wanted it dramatic, then who was I to disappoint?

"Why! These are all your friends! They look just as smart as you are!"

Mad amounts of lash batting and giggles ensue. Grabbing a seat beside Stringer, I go through the exaggerated motions of wiping his coat dry (with him still wearing it, naturally), whilst the men rolled their eyes at Stringer, gave me a look of disgust, and continued their conversation.

And this was their weakness, really. They took one look at me and decided I was either an innocent airhead or silly bimbo, and either way I was hardly worth their bother. I would fuss over Stringer, act in awe of all of them, and after a discreet dinner (*cough* easy sex *cough*) I'd basically fade from the picture. Meanwhile they would occasionally share exasperated looks at how Stringer hadn't asked me to leave, but tolerate him as he would mostly ignore me (apart from the occasional pat on the shoulder) and act and speak seriously with them until the official lunch time was over. And inwardly they would have a slight admiration for Stringer at how he'd managed to bag an attractive arm accessory for a little while ("am I that old already?"). And they would keep talking as it wasn't as if I would listen, or understand.

After all, I was only a girl. And this was good news for me.

"...considering the decline in house elf wages, the rise in the Bulgarian economy should have been expected!"

"No, Branck, if anything was a weighty factor it would have been the fall of the economic partnership between France and Italy. Not to mention the loosening of restrictions and tax rates in several local cities. Now Wil, everything went according to plan so now we just wait six more days-" here, my ears perked up "-and that lady won't be interfering, so we'll only need to reinforce The Daily Prophet (*cough* propaganda *cough*), correct?"

"Oh, she'll be busy," the pasty man called Branck chortled. "Or, should I say, unbusy." The table laughed nastily. "I'll convince a few writers to give the paper a nudge or two- you don't need to worry about that. What do you all think of my new education proposal?"

"Wait-" Waddleway cut in, a sharp look in his eyes. "How much do we owe the man?"

"Lucius said he'd cover all the expenses for now."

"In that case, I propose a toast. Here's to wealthy partners and their reliable underlings." Stringer and Waddleway looked extremely pleased with themselves.

And, having gotten just what I wanted, I was feeling just as pleased.

*****

By the time Midgen had finished with me, I looked exactly like Marsh, who looked like any other girl.

"Eloise, you're amazing!" Hermione sighed in appreciation.

"Where did you learn those spells? Was it a byproduct of becoming a Metamorphagus?" I wondered out loud.

"Yes, most Metamorphagus's have a grasp of all the face-altering spells as well. The spells are the first step, really," Midgen said in a tight voice that suggested that the whole process had been a difficult one.

Catching this, Hermione asked the question she'd probably been itching to ask quite gently. "Why did you decide on learning to become one, Eloise?"

"My parents were rich enough for a teacher who was willing to spend a year teaching me. It was our last resort when even the most expensive potions they brought me couldn't clear up my acne. I mean, I still had them after I'd left school! So learning how to change my face at will was the only way I could ever be beautiful. And after a year of intensive study I managed it. But soon after I managed, I realized that I couldn't be happy hidden behind another face. Every time some one I'd known before paid attention to me, when they never had before, I'd feel bewildered, and then sad. How could they start paying attention to me now just because I'd cleaned up my acne and shrunk my nose? Eventually I decided that if that was all there was to people I'd be better off without using my powers as a Metamorphagus. And I've hardly ever used them since."

I opened my mouth, wanting desperately to say something to make her feel better.

"No, don't say anything, Chang, it was my decision and I'm not going to start wallowing about or anything. Besides, now that I'm back to my normal face, my acne makes me look young again. Just yesterday a client mistook me for a teenager. Now I'd love to catch up but I think you've spent too much time in here as it is, Herm. Why don't you wheel that lady out now while Chang goes to bed? Owl me sometime."

*****

Counting to keep myself from actually falling asleep, I wondered how I'd get past the watchers outside. It had been an hour or so since Hermione had wheeled Marsh away, embracing Midgen before leaving, which meant that I could be leaving soon. Certainly the suspicions of the spies hadn't been aroused, as one of them had come to briefly check on me before, and had fallen for Midgen's spells entirely.

Hearing footsteps coming close again, I tense slightly and tighten my hand around my wand, hidden under the bedsheets.

"I don't see why you're so paranoid Pandora. I checked on her myself an hour ago."

"It's my first assignment and I plan to do it right Pete!" As the lady said that I could feel her leaning over me, probably watching my face intently. Suddenly I felt her stiffen.

"Wait- that Marsh woman didn't smell like this before-"

Reflexively my arm shot out and I quickly stunned her. The two men turned, saw me, and ran towards me. Gasping I leapt to the side, rammed my knee into the back of the one close to me, then shot a fainting spell on the other. He dodged it and shot a disarming spell at me. A fraction too slow a dodging it, my wand flew out of my hand. Cursing, I ducked his next curse, and then pushed my hospital bed at him. He quickly stopped it with his wand, and in that moment I lunged towards him and punched him hard in the head.

He fell but sprang up again as the other man suddenly grabbed hold of my leg, pulling me down. Furious, I kicked his wand out of his hand, and after a few moments of wild grappling managed to push him into his partner. This distracted them both for the fraction of a second and in that moment I managed to roll along my hospital bed, grabbing my blanket and throwing it over their heads. I scanned the room quickly, desperate for my wand-

-and then felt the tip of another wand against my neck. "Move another muscle, dear, and you won't live to see tomorrow," the lady witch hissed, still looking stunned but managing to sound suitably evil.

A shout from behind caught both our attentions and I gasped as I saw an Amazonian warrior shove the witch to the side, ripping out her wand. The two men tried to curse her, but she ducked and threw me the wand. "Quick! Stun them!"

Midgen! Of course! I stunned the witch again, countered two curses from the wizards, who'd managed to get out from under the blanket, and then cast a sleeping spell on both of them.

"Thanks, Midgen. Just let me cast a memory charm on them and then-"

"No!" she cut in. "The hospital can track the names of any aggressive spells cast in this room. I'd better change your face and then you should leave as quickly as possible."

"What about you? And how are you going to explain this?"

Midgen smiled at me, her features changing back as she did so. "I took on the face of an Amazonian warrior, right? And as far as the hospital records are concerned you've been authorised to leave an hour or so ago. No one can deny that fact as all the patients in this room were asleep, natural or drug induced All the aggressive spells cast here were duelling spells, so as far as the hospital is concerned these three could be maniacs who just started fighting here. And as these "maniacs" will start talking about how they've been attacked by an Amazonian warrior and a patient who's already left, I don't think they'll be taken too seriously. And think about what this could do for you and Herm. These spies have not only lost Marsh, they've also alerted the hospital staff, they'll probably be facing charges, and they'll be raving about how they were attacked by an Amazonian warrior. I don't think that'll impress their boss much, will it? And if you and Herm had any insider connections they could look out for people badmouthing a Pamela and a Pete, and that would help you two figure out who send these two here."

I stared, awestruck, at Midgen. "Midgen, you are a bloody genius. Would you ever feel like joining me and Herm at work someday?"

Midgen laughed as she cast a quick face-altering charm on me. "Right now my priority is pretending that I've been asleep all along, recovering from my snake bite, and getting out of hospital. And you'd better pick up your wand and get out of here Chang."

Picking up my wand, I thanked her again, and then walked off quickly.

Another mission accomplished- yes! And I had to tell the girls that I'd meet a girl who REALLY had potential for being a new Blonde!