Alastor had a knack for knowing whom would last long in the world and the red-haired girl beside him was most definitely one of those unfortunate souls whom would not. Her tongue stuck out in a determined manner as she quickly wrote across her parchment. His reason for such harsh speculation towards the girl was the fact that she constantly made mistakes on her parchment which made it look like someone was doing a crossword puzzle. The next reason was her sleeves. They constantly dipped into her ink bottle which splattered ink droplets all over her desk and face, giving the impression as if she had a bad case of dragon pox. The other was that she was still on her second paragraph, by this rate she would not finish her essay in time. 

Alastor looked down to his paper, he was almost finished however, he had come across a crooked crossroad. As he was indecisive at whether or not he should the Avada Kedavra or the Cruciatus curse to end with. They both seemed rather interesting, but it had occurred to him if he does choose both he'll go over the restricted number of curses they have instructed them to write about. 

Alas, he went with the first, but before he could go back to writing about their effects and effectiveness a sudden prick in the side of his head had bloomed. It didn't matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the sharp pain continued. He had a faint idea as to what it had wanted him to do, but Alastor gave it his best at ignoring the pain. He would have come out as the victor, if it wasn't for the sound of a sneeze. It didn't take much strength as it was before as he pivot to the source. There, sat the girl rubbing her bright red nose. Another factor which intrigued Alastor was the fact that the girl had a brightly coloured scarf wrapped around her. It wasn't odd for the students to wear their scarfs inside the castle since they were practically still in the winter season. Yet, it wasn't the usual house coloured scarf the house elves have knitted and placed in their dormitories, instead it was a scarf with a collage of different coloured yarns. It seemed like those muggles' contraptions called wires. To Alastor, it was the most atrocious thing he had ever sat his eyes on, as some of the yarn poked out of their places. The girl wrapped the scarf tighter around herself letting out a satisfying sigh as she did so. Shortly after, the sound of Professor Flitwicks high pitched voice broke through the clustered room. Quickly, he returned to his essay.

Alastor raised his arms over his head only letting it rest onto the desk when he heard a satisfactory crack. He gave his parchment paper one last look before he gave a satisfactory nod, every thing was in line and each paragraph indented perfectly. Rolling the parchment, he handed it over to Professor Flitwick but before he exited the still full class room he gave one last look to the messy red hair girl before disappearing through the door.