It was times like these that Alastor wished he was more sociable towards his peers.

Days have passed since he had missed his herbology class, and he couldn't helped but say it was a very interesting day at that. Not only was it the first time that he had ever missed a class but, a fellow student had also fainted during the lesson he had missed and was rushed to the hospital wing.

Somehow, Alastor was grateful that he had missed that day of herbology class, had he had no doubt the noise and chaos the student would create due to the incident would had hurt his ears. But, the most interesting event of all was when he found the red haired girl scarf lying on the floor. He wondered why would she leave behind her scarf as he sat inspecting the piece of material in the Slytherin common room. Did she no longer wanted it? If she did not, it make sense to the male after all, since the material was awfully tattered . However, it wouldn't add up. Why now, she always had it on, perhaps it was no longer in style? He shook his head also denying that fact, from what he had observed and concluded , the girl was anything but fashionable, with her dirty shoes, mismatched socks and untidy hair, it speak of anything but chic. So why did she leaved it behind?Maybe she didn't disposed of it,perhaps she just forgotten it. He paused, lulling at the thought before nodding to himself. It seemed more believable than the other theories he had came up with. He sighed to himself. It was the reason as to why he was so concerned for her during Transfiguration class, she had nothing of the latter to have what it takes to master what the class spells required.

Only thing left for him to do was to bring back the scarf to her, but that feat proven to be the most difficult task as it bring us to now.

Alastor didn't know which house the young girl was in. Which meant that he had to asked the other students, however, that was also another feat to itself as he didn't know what to say. He had already frighten some couple of third year as he asked if they know whom was the owner of the scarf. They were quite taken back at his request, since Alastor wasn't the one to socialize especially to some students younger than him.

This caused quite a shock to them which lead them to respond slowly, oblivious to the fuming male. He didn't liked how long they were taking to answer a simple question it was just a 'yes' or 'no'. That led to him not understanding as to why he had to wait so long due their slow thoughts process . So, with that, unconsciously, decided to ask the question once again, this time in a more gruff manner, as Alastor growled in anger at them which led all of them to scurried away and leave behind a rather perplexed male.

Alastor sighed in disbelief as he sat on his bed. It was late in the afternoon and he was tired from his expedition. The rest of the day was similar to this morning with the third years, as everyone else ended up running from him or was too shock to answered his question.

Overtaxed from today's activity he took his free period which he usually used to look over notes and do assignments to resign in his dormitory. He ran a hand through his choppy hair before plopping onto the bed right before he delicately lay the scarf on his pillow, just adjacent to him. As he sat inspecting it even further, he realized how poorly he was at assessing the material before. It was exceedingly shabby.

Every second which past goaded him to fetch his wand to repair it. Finally he gave in, as he quickly fumbled for his wand, the sooner he cast the repairing charm the better he could asses his thoughts. Getting up and fixing his attire Alastor then wasted no time at aiming his wand towards the scarf as he quickly muttered the spell lowly, "Reparo" with that, the material flutter for a moment. Weakly the out of place threads lifted theirs heads, he smiled at their action ,however, it soon left his face as the thread slumped back down in defat. Alastor watched dumbfounded before he scratched his head. Not long after string of curse left his lips. Perhaps he needed more firmness in his voice as he pointed his wand at the scarf once more.

"Reparo!" he exclaimed, this time the yarns struck up, as though a bolt of lighten stoke through them, but not long after, like a dead flower their heads slumped back down again. Angered at it's action, he spend half of his free session firing the same charm which were all useless.

At the end of it all the scarf still sat tattered and dirty. He hissed at its stubbornness, as he stuffed it angrily in the safety of his drawer.

*

Soon it was charms as Alastor dragged his legs to his class. He had spend two sessions trying to fix one ruddy scarf but fail. He couldn't but help but feel sadden at the thought. An auror in training yet, cannot execute a simple charm. He wanted to asked for help, however, his pride held him back as he refused to ask for help from his peers.  So with that, Alastor put aside all the thoughts of fixing the scarf and instead, stick to his first ulterior motive, finding the owner. This caused him to pack the scarf with the rest of his books, as he had planned to asked the students after class, as to whether or not they have an idea to who the owner is.

Class was partially full when he reached as he sat at his usual seat, the back, as he sat observing the students. This continued until a rather familiar face made an appearance. Only one word float in Alastor mind as he watched the newcomer, sophisticated, yet, deadly if you overstepped her boundary. She held her head high, as though balancing something invisible on her forehead, and her almond eyes where onyx, yet shrewd as she send smiles to everyone she pass.

This continued until her eyes landed on Alastor himself. It was quick, yet it felt like like hours, days even . He'd never recalled seeing so much emotion running through one person eyes like this. His parents were usually guarded, rarely displaying any outwards emotions. Yes, he do received love, as his parents showed him in their own way. At times, he would witness how soft they would look at times then the other moments, they'll be translucent like a glass. However, never had he seen so much going on at once. This led him to be perplexed as the girl gave a him a nasty scowled, he was still surprising as to how he was still seated and alive.

She finally founded a seat, as she took out her text reviewing the previous notes no doubt, however, not before she send Alastor one last foreboding look. His face quickly changed from confused to annoyed as he didn't understand her harsh behavior. Not long after, Professor Flitwick made his way in class and without any a due the class begin.

The rest of the class was mostly like a daze to Alastor as he found today class to be rather competent compared to transfiguration as everyone had a much easier time following Professor Flitwick instruction. Alastor even find the class rather relaxing however, one person believed that they were not satisfied with him being appease as she haunt him with icy glares. Who was she ? Thought Alastor as he forage his brain for any hint. He wasn't this bad with name, he thought as he spare her one more look. He knew that face, he knew her name. It was on the tip of his tongue.

"Alana, Amanda, Anna, Amber," he chanted to him shelf, at the brink of giving up, a strange struck of luck, he heard Professor Flitwick squeaky voice in the distance.

"Excellent job Ms. Bones." Alastor body jolted at the name as he turned to only see her with a smile stretch across her face just before giving Moody a condescending smirk. And like a dam had been broken every thing came back like a flood. Amelia Bones, a rather brilliant witch of her age and was the person he had seen with the red head girl in Transfigurations a couple days back, supposedly good friends at the looked at it.

It seems everything had come into place for Moody and perhaps he should look happy at least, as he could now found the girl and return her scarf. However, instead of a sigh of relief and a content demeanour, a deep scowl had taken place, and instead of a lighten heart it suddenly get heavy. It would be good if only the red head's friend wasn't Amelia Bones, his greatest and sole rival.