February was drawn to a closed and soon came March with streaks of sunlight behind. It was a great month to relax and enjoy oneself, Alastor,however, could not say the same since he was left in a rather bewildered state. The reason for such was because of a certain red head to whom was adamant at wearing such ugly scarf. He had to admit that even he at times wear his emerald scarf proudly, even after the chilly season was over, especially when a Slytherin game was close . However, this girl had beaten his record, especially since it was well in March and the grounds began to get scented in flowers.

Was it a new fashion? Was one of the many questions he asked.

It was one of the few things in life Alastor hadn't quite understand. He didn't see all the need for all those colours and fandangled. After all clothes were clothes, as long as they were keeping him warm and hiding his important body parts he was good. No need for the unnecessary hype. However,  it was shame that many haven't shared his view on the matter. 

Maybe he was over thinking things, the girl  after all was a complete mess. Probably she just forgot to take it off. Since her character did speak of a dunder head. The fact that she constantly tripped over the empty air and her messy attire didn't help much with her creating a good image. Which brought him to now, he was just returning from the greenhouse heading for an afternoon tea. However, instead of taking a turn to the Great Hall he continue moving forward towards the kitchen. He didn't quite enjoy being watched when he eat, especially infront of strangers. He didn't like giving people much about himself, and he saw food as one of those liabilities. If he wanted to be auror like his parents he need to vigilante, at every moment. He saw it as that people could infer some essential information about his character from the food he eat. So the only time he dine with his peers was only during the feast at the first of September. Even then, he chose only what majority have in their plates.

Before he could disappeared behind the picture the sound of struggle made him stop in his track. There, fighting with a mountain of books and an untie shoes lace was the scarf girl. He watched as she wobbles through the hall and as if her luck couldn't get any more cheap her bag choose that moment to spur her books along the floor.

A string of curse word followed soon suite. Dismissing the scene, mechanically Alastor returned to tickling the painted fruit but a warmth of a hand hinder such act. Standing infront of him was the tussle red head, her back was turned as she continue to mumble to herself, while her hands was still tugging at his robes. Alastor looked down staring at her hands.

"Can you be a darling and hold these books for me, thanks." She didn't even give him any time to respond as she leave a dumbfounded Alastor behind as she tied her shoes lace. It gave him more insight on the mysterious girl as it gave way to her pair of mix matched socks and rather dirty shoes.

How much tackier can she get?

Alastor almost emptied his stomach on the floor if it wasn't for the fact that it was already empty as he watched how she dumped her books into her bag not before giving it a hearty shake since they were having a hard time fitting into the bag.

He would have lent a hand if not for the fact that it was already occupied. Soon she began to walk, too busy tightening the badly made scarf, shortly after she beckoned for him to follow, her eyes busy with her bag straps. 

It was an awkward trip for Alastor as he constantly looked to see if anyone of his Slytherin peers were anywhere in sight. He wonder where the red hair girl was heading as she continued to hum, not once did she look back to see whom she handed her books over to. Which brought him to another question, why she was carrying so many books?

It soon dawned on him to if the mystery girl had forgotten where she was going? He shook his head in denial, can't possibly be right, who's stupid enough to do so. As quickly as those thoughts entered his mind earlier event replayed in his head and just like clockwork outstretched his hands to stop her. But just at that moment, she stopped, echoing a sigh of relief she exclaimed with joy.

"We are here!" 

"Thanks for helping me ou..." her sentence quickly trailed off after finally facing Alastor. At an early age, he had noticed he had that effect on people, making their words slid down their throat. He didn't understand why but it always did made him slightly piss.

What make him different? Why was it so difficult for people to exchange simple pleasantries with him? He was no monster, that he was sure of, he didn't have any abnormal body feature nor would he bite their heads off if they decided to say a simple hello. Was something wrong with his face? He wondered. Alastor had long come to accept the fact that he wasn't the most popular of person. However, recently he had found such issues had now started to resurface with much greater impact than ever to his self-esteem. Another thing he doesn't quite understand.

Knowing that if he stayed would only make the situation more awkward Alastor decided to walk away. Heading back to the kitchen he noticed how heavy he had felt despite the fact that the load was gone.