A/N: Huge thank you to Pachamama for beta reading!

QLFC
Arrows Keeper: adventure and comedy genres

Hogwarts
Assignment 10: Etiquette task 1 - Write about someone writing to rest.

Word count: 2,999

Giving into Kingsley when he appeared at her door had been a bad idea. A smarter person would have stressed that it was her day off and sent him on his way. She'd already worked six days straight, and the only thing she wanted was a nice lie in. But after nearly failing parts of her Auror training, Tonks was adamant about proving herself. For better or worse.

That was even true when what was asked of her was bizarre, and she hadn't realized how bizarre Auror work could be until she was an Auror herself.

A familiar sense of resignation washed over her as she stared at the wooden sign outside a bubble-gum pink building. A large Muggle clown smiled down at the two of them. Though it was meant to be appealing to children, a shiver travelled down Tonks' spine as it leered down at them.

"Why do you need me for this again?" she asked.

According to Kingsley, no one else in the department was as fit for the job as Tonks. Tonks' fervent need to prove herself had screwed her over when all she wanted was to rest after a difficult week.

Thank Merlin she'd be getting several days off as compensation for the overtime. She just had to get through the day, and she could sleep for days.

"You have the most experience with Muggles of anyone I could find," Kingsley said. "You spent whole summers with your Muggle grandparents, right?"

Tonks nodded with a sigh. Those summers had been some of the best of her life, and she had learned a lot. Clowns, though, were one topic she'd never wanted to go near.

"But I've never been anywhere like this," she said, gesturing towards the kids' birthday place they stood in front of.

'Have the best birthday of your life!' the sign declared, but Tonks wasn't convinced. It looked like a Muggle factory that had been painted in the most garish colour imaginable. A birthday party at the Hog's Head sounded more appealing.

"You're still better equipped for this than me," Kingsley said with a shake of his head.

He kept eyeing the clown as if it would come alive and curse them if they took another step towards the building. If Tonks didn't know that Muggles were capable of such horrific things without enchanting them, she would have done the same.

"Sure," Tonks said. "Remind me again why we need to infiltrate a random Muggle child's birthday party again though?"

"Someone's charmed an object in there. It's been a hassle for the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office and St Mungo's. We need to get it out of there. Once the children are safe, we can worry about finding the culprit."

Tonks scanned the parking lot. There weren't many cars, but there were more minivans than actual cars. The place would be crawling with children on the inside, and children always made their job more difficult.

"Okay," she said, putting her hands on her waist as she got to business. "So, my first piece of Muggle advice: Two strange adults can't waltz into a kid's birthday party childless without looking suspicious."

Kingsley rolled his eyes, almost offended by Tonks' words.

"That's reason number two why I wanted you to come along."

Tonks scowled. It was hard enough to be taken seriously at the Ministry when she was herself. She refused to give up her brightly coloured hair, which was partially an act of defiance. She enjoyed showing them that she could get shit done even with the hair, but turning herself into a child was different than her hair. If anyone but Kingsley had asked her to morph into one, she would have turned them down unless lives were on the line.

With a sigh, she transformed. It was a task she'd been asked to do several times in training, and she morphed into a form she'd already designed. She was the picture of innocence, with rounded cheeks and large eyes. She couldn't have turned herself into a less suspicious-looking child.

"Good?" she asked, holding her arms out for Kingsley's inspection.

"Good," he said with a shudder, "but it's strange to hear you talking like an adult when you look like that."

Tonks scowled and crossed her arms against her chest, hating that it made her look like a pouting child. This was exactly why children were her least favourite forms to take. No one took her seriously, and her physical abilities were limited in the most frustrating ways.

"Let's go," she said, leading the way towards the building.

There were no people outside; her scanning spell would have alerted her if there was. She refused to put on an act until it was necessary.

As they approached, Tonks noticed a large pitbull lounging by the door, and her heart rate sped up. She'd had a bad incident with a dog that looked just like the one in front of her when she was younger. It had even come up during her training when they'd poked her for weaknesses. Perhaps she wasn't as good of a person for the job as Kingsley had thought.

Three days off, she reminded herself as her pace slowed. If she could just make it past the dog and finish the job, she'd have three days of laying in bed to look forward to.

Her hand wrapped around her wand in the pocket of her trousers as she approached. The dog watched with alert brown eyes as she got closer. It's head was the only part of it that moved.

"Tonks," Kingsley said from behind her, "I don't think—"

Tonks, too focused on the dog, didn't notice as her foot hit a patch of mud. It squished underneath her foot, making her slide. She tumbled into the dirt, her wand flying out of her hand as she went.

It was a huge failure on her part, and her cheeks burned before her ass hit the ground. Mud coated her clothes and splattered her arms.

The dog got up and moved towards them. Tonks' heart raced as she reached for her wand. The dog ran, but Tonks' wand was nowhere to be found. She curled in on herself as the dog began jumping around her, its paws scraping at her back.

It took a second for Tonks to realize that she wasn't being attacked. Instead, the dog was playful as it continued jumping around her in circles, occasionally jumping on her in excitement. When Tonks looked at it, it got right in her face and gave her a huge lick on the cheek.

She groaned, wiping at the dog saliva despite the mud that covered her head-to-toe.

"I think it's friendly," Kingsley finished what he'd been trying to say earlier.

Tonks looked up at him with a glare, but he didn't notice as he patted the dog's head. It leaned into the touch, forgetting Tonks in favour of the human who was happy to give it attention.

Pointedly ignoring the budding friendship in front of her, Tonks located her wand in the mud and tugged it free. With a wave, she and her wand were both clean. She glared at the dog, which was almost as large as she was even when she was standing.

She really did hate being a child, but three days of rest.

"Who keeps a pitbull at a kids' birthday place?" she snapped. "Are they asking to be sued?"

Kingsley frowned.

"Is that a Muggle thing?"

Tonks scoffed and didn't answer as she turned from the dog and stormed into the building. Kingsley told the dog goodbye in abhorrent baby talk that Tonks chose to ignore.

The second she walked in the door, a hundred eyes were on her. As soon as they'd confirmed that she wasn't part of their party, they lost interest. There were at least three parties going on simultaneously if the clusters of tables were any indication, so no one was bothered by the arrival of strangers.

Everything was in bright primary colours, from the walls to the large slide and ball pit area that took up a significant portion of the space. Tonks stared at the ball pit with wide eyes, her stomach sinking.

"That's what we need," Kingsley said, wagging his finger at the ball pit. "The victims each mentioned that the kids couldn't stop playing with balls. Even after they described it, I didn't get what they meant until now."

He stared at the ball pit, which was crawling with children. They were even climbing along the outside. None of them were interested in anything else. A few parents tried to coax them out to no avail.

"I'm still not sure I understand what's happening," Kingsley admitted. "But it seems like the kids don't want to leave. It's just like the witnesses described."

Tonks turned to him slowly, her pulse sounding in her ears.

"It's a ball pit," she said dully. "That looks like a typical ball pit, nothing out of the ordinary. It's like a casino for children."

"What's a casino?" Kingsley asked.

"A place where Muggles go to gamble. They're addictive. So are ball pits. Are you sure this thing is magical?"

She crossed her arms against her chest. There was no way in hell she was going in that thing unless there was no other choice. The strange smells and unidentified objects of her youth were vivid in her memory.

"The parents said their kids wouldn't eat. They've wound up in St Mungo's for dehydration too."

"Still sounds like a normal ball pit," Tonks said with a shake of her head.

Kingsley snorted but was unconvinced.

"The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office believes that a ball has been enchanted to keep the kids in the ball pit as a way to increase profits. The kids are still in St Mungo's crying because their parents won't bring them back here."

Tonks remained sceptical that anything magical was afoot, but she sighed and nodded to show her compliance. Her own personal dislike for the ball pit was likely clouding her judgment.

"Do I have to go inside it?" she asked uneasily.

Kingsley raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's just a pit of balls," he pointed out. "You've been in far more dangerous situations."

Tonks clenched her jaw.

"It's a pit of balls full of unhygienic primary schoolers who have no concept of personal space, Kingsley. Most of the Auror Office hasn't faced anything like it."

Kingsley shook his head. He still didn't believe her. Tonks wished he was the one going in. Then he'd understand. Three days off, Tonks reminded herself. Going into the pit made her want to gag, but she could do it if it meant three days off. She hadn't had that much time to herself in a year.

A few of the kids glanced at her as she climbed into hell, but none of them cared much for the strange girl who didn't belong to their group of friends. Tonks didn't care much for them or their sticky hands and runny noses either, so she wasn't offended.

She'd been in the ball pit for mere seconds when all coherent thoughts except those about the ball pit itself fled from her mind. All she wanted was to immerse herself in the balls. She stared down at them in amazement, unable to believe just how incredible they were.

Without thinking much about it, she scooped up an armful and threw them in the air, giggling as they came falling down around her like rain. She dove under the surface trying but failing to swim through them like a pool.

How could she have doubted the pure joy of ball pits before?

"Glenda," Kingsley called. "Over here."

The sound of her usual code name caught her attention. She leaned back against the balls as she gazed lazily at Kingsley through the netting that enclosed the ball pit. He motioned for her to come closer, but Tonks was wary. He might make her try to leave, and the thought of that made her want to cry.

Uneasily, she waded towards him, only stopping a few times to bat at a ball with a short giggle.

Kingsley stood away from where most of the parents were at the entrance. He waited until one tiny toddler moved away before he spoke to her.

"I've performed a spell, and I think there's only one enchanted ball. It's buried deep in this area."

He motioned at the corner where they were standing.

"Are you sure?" Tonks pouted.

Every ball in the pit was as fun as the last. She didn't trust the idea of there being a special one, and she hated even more that her joy would be gone if the ball was destroyed. Magical or not, she wanted to stay in the ball pit.

"Positive," Kingsley said. "Tonks, focus. You've been trained to resist spells like this."

She had been, and that's what made it infuriating that she loved the freaking ball pit when she knew she was being magically influenced. She fought against the urge to lose herself in the balls and began digging. She couldn't use her wand, so she settled for wandless spells to detect whether ball after ball had any enchantments, tossing them over her shoulder when they were duds.

For some reason, no one thought her behavior was odd or, perhaps, the parents were too occupied with their own screaming children to care. Tonks ignored the particularly loud screams of one boy as he clung to the padded bar at the entrance lest his father drag him away.

Finally, she tugged a red ball free and detected an enchantment. She laughed with pride before she remembered what finding the ball meant.

She didn't want to leave the ball pit. No one needed a three-day vacation if they could stay in a ball pit instead.

"Tonks," Kingsley said warningly. "Bring the ball out, and let's go."

She stared at her partner, a scheme already forming in her brain. Kingsley couldn't climb into the ball pit without attracting attention. As long as she was inside, she was safe. If she could just toss the ball away and lose it again…

With a slight wave of Kingsley's hand, the ball was in his grasp without any of the Muggles noticing them. Tonks growled in frustration and balled her empty hand into a fist, feeling more like the child of her appearance as she faced the prospect of being forced to leave. The ball was still too close for its effects to be weakened.

"Kingsley," she whined, "just a few more minutes."

"No, we have to go. Tonks, fight the enchantment."

But she didn't want to. All she'd wanted to do at the beginning of the day was sleep in and maybe read a book. It was meant to be a day for relaxation and nothing more. That was taken from her, but she'd gotten the ball pit instead. She wanted to stay.

"No," she said defiantly.

Kingsley stored the ball in his trouser pocket, which must have been charmed as it appeared to hold nothing at all. With a sigh, he came around to the entrance of the ball pit as Tonks' heart dropped.

He climbed in, apologizing to parents as he did so. They smiled at him sympathetically as they struggled with their own kids. None of them even attempted to stop him. Tonks tried to escape through the balls, but there was nowhere to go.

Kingsley scooped her up as Tonks flailed and begged to stay. Fighting against the balls—while also nearly tripping and taking out a few kids several times—Kingsley got them out of the ball pit and hurried outside with a wailing Tonks in his arms.

Not even the pitbull wanted to get near them as Tonks screamed for the entire parking lot to hear.

"Let me go! Let me go! I'm an adult. Let me play in the balls! I can do what I want!"

Kingsley got them behind a car, pulled his wand from his pocket, and muttered a spell. The spell's effect disappeared immediately, and Kingsley had her on her feet a second later.

She stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. As if from shame, her body morphed back into her natural features, including her mousy brown hair.

"Merlin," Tonks moaned. "That was mortifying. Oh, god. Shit. Kingsley, you can't—"

"I won't tell a soul," Kingsley promised, though his eyes sparkled in amusement. "Your secret is safe with me."

Tonks held a hand over her heart as she tried to push away her embarrassment. Over the years, her clumsiness had resulted in more than a few mortifying situations at work, but she'd never done anything like that. She raised a shaky hand to her forehead. Kingsley was the only one who'd seen, but she still couldn't imagine going into the office the next day and facing her coworkers after what had happened.

"I'm going home," she said shakily.

"The ball needs to go to the Ministry," Kingsley said, looking at her with concern.

While she appreciated that he cared, Tonks was completely fine aside from her complete and utter mortification. The only thing she needed was a break.

"You can do that yourself," Tonks said with a shake of her head. "I'm going home, crawling into bed, and hiding from the world for three days. I deserve it."

She jabbed her finger at Kingsley. The entire situation was his fault. It wasn't even the late afternoon yet. She could have been sleeping.

"Agreed," Kingsley said, holding his arms up in surrender. "Three days off, just like I promised. Hogwarts could be set on fire, and I won't call you to help with the rescue effort."

"Thank Merlin," Tonks muttered.

She refused to look at Kingsley or acknowledge his repressed laughter. Without another word, she Apparated home, fell into bed, and drifted off to sleep where nothing was embarrassing.