Strawberry Gashes

if you ever get close to a human
and human behaviour
be ready be ready to get confused

there's definitely definitely definitely no logic
to human behaviour
but yet so yet so irresistible

and there's no map to human behaviour

they're terribly terribly terribly terribly moody
then all of a sudden turn happy
but, oh, to get involved in the exchange
of human emotions
is ever so ever so satisfying

and there's no map
and a compass wouldn't help at all

Chapter 2: Human Behaviour

"Stupid, Stupid, Stupid," McQuerie thought to herself as she headed back to her seat. "You're a witch. You should have just hexed him."

She continued to scowl as she stripped herself of her Muggle clothing in the booth that she and Malfoy had previously been occupying. She refused to go back to the dressing rooms, for she was not in the mood for another confrontation with her new enemy.

In the meantime, Draco had already changed into his school robes and was returning to their cubicle.

"Damn Americans," he thought while clutching his nose that had stopped bleeding but was still causing him a stinging pain.

He tried to ignore it.

"She will pay for this," he thought as he slowly began to draw his wand from his robe.

He was prepared to duel if she dared to insult him again.

He opened the door without even knocking and before him stood Tristan, half-naked, standing there in her grey mini-skirt and olive green bra. His eyes widened and he even heard himself gasp at the sight of her chest. Her breasts were...perfect.

"Like what you see?" she said seductively.

He was frozen. He just couldn't stop looking at her body. She was well developed, had toned muscles, and a slim, but curvy figure. He looked down at her legs, which had a defined shape, and then he stared down at her feet, which were very small, revealing the black nail polish on her toenails she had applied that morning.

She grinned at the sight of his expression.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. He was stuck in a dumb stupor, not moving. She put her hand to his face, and leaned in. He could smell the cinnamon on her breath. He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, for he was sure she was going to kiss him.

Instead, she pushed him away and yelled, "Now sod off!" She slammed the door in his face.

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Malfoy was relieved once the train finally stopped near Hogwarts. He clutched his nose (which was still searing in pain) as he pushed through a very lost crowd of first years while trying to get to the prefect's carriages. He dreaded knowing who the other Slytherin prefect was. He had the worst feeling that it was to be Pansy Parkinson, the stupid, unattractive git who followed him around like a sick puppy.

Draco buried his head in his hands, unable to hear himself think over the clamor of Hagrid (the school's gamekeeper) yelling "Fir' years ov' here! C'mon now! Fir' years!", other jolly students conversing with one another, and also, the beat of his own heart which was pulsing in his ears as he took the last few steps towards the prefect's carriages.

He took a deep breath.

"Here we go," he sighed as he opened the carriage door and sat down.

To his horror, there sat Pansy Parkinson, looking more repulsive than ever. She used Muggle cosmetics to attempt to hide her ugly face, but the products just made her horrible features stand out even more.

She looked like a cross between a raccoon and a Muggle's Raggedy Ann doll, for she had smudged navy blue eye shadow and black eyeliner making a complete circle around her eye (she also looked as if she had been given two black eyes), and she had applied so much mascara that her eyelashes looked like tarantula tentacles that were about to break off. On top of all that, her lipstick was smeared around her mouth like that of a clown, and her cheeks were so red that it looked as if she had an evil fever.

The sight of her made Malfoy feel sick. He forced himself to look at the floor to keep from gagging. As concentrated on the ground, he still held his nose, which he convinced himself was broken, and the pain continued to be so violent that it only encouraged his ill feeling.

"What happened to your nose?" Pansy asked.

An awful grin formed at the corners of her thin, chapped lips as she said, "Let me kiss it and make it feel better." She leaned over with her lips puckered up, and Draco scurried over towards his side door trying to push her away.

She was getting so close that he instinctively grabbed his wand from inside his robe, pointed it at her mouth and said, "Sewamentacus!"

Instantly, Pansy's mouth had been sewn shut, preventing her to speak, or even move her mouth at all.

"Now," Malfoy continued, "I am not your boyfriend. We may be prefects, sharing responsibilities and having to spend more time with one another," (he flinched at the thought) "but let me notify you now: I WILL NEVER DATE YOU. EVER. I find you to be a despicable prat."

Pansy's eyes began to water; causing her makeup to run and making her look even more hideous. She crossed her arms and pouted (well, tried to) as she stared out the window. Draco didn't feel any sympathy for the whimpering Pansy, for he knew that she only fancied him for his amazingly good looks and great wealth. He had grown up over the years, and she wasn't the only one to notice his big change.

They remained in silence until the carriage stopped and Draco reversed the sewing spell that he had placed upon Pansy's lips. They went inside the castle, hearing everyone speaking of how great it was to be back at school. He entered the Great Hall, where the four House tables were positioned in even rows. Upon them sat white tablecloths, polished silverware and very clean dishes.

Draco made his way to his usual spot at the Slytherin table. Crabbe and Goyle (two fools that Malfoy had finally been able to get away from) were nowhere to be seen, and Pansy sat a ways down the table. Draco smiled internally at the thought that no one would bother him tonight. The feeling lasted only a few short seconds when he looked down the hall at the group of first years huddled by the doors, and he saw her.

Tristan McQuerie. The instant he noticed her felt his face redden. He was very embarrassed to be looking at her, since a girl had never punched him and caused him to bleed before. He also found her really attractive, so that didn't calm his nerves either. Professor Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, stood up from the teacher's table and tapped his glass with a spoon to begin the welcoming ceremony. He began his usual start of school greetings, nothing of which anyone found of interest except the first year students. Nothing was appealing, except for one announcement which made Malfoy's ear to perk up.

"I would like to announce the arrival of our new exchange student, Tristan McQuerie. She will be beginning her 6^th year here at Hogwarts, and she is formally from the Leyerona Academy in Santa Fe, New Mexico, United States of America. Please make her feel welcome here at our school."

A soft buzz of murmurs began spreading around the great Hall as Dumbledore put his hand up to silence everyone again.

"I would like, after Professor McGonagall explains the rules of the Sorting Hat, for Miss McQuerie to be the first sorted into her house, thank you."

He sat down as McGonagall stood up with a scroll of parchment in her hands. Soon enough, Tristan was sitting upon the stool with the Sorting Hat on her head.

After a few brief moments, the hat shouted out, "SLYTHERIN!" and she made her way towards her new house table.

"Oh no," Malfoy muttered as she walked towards him.

He ignored the cheering from his housemates, for his day had just hit the zenith of dreadfulness...that is, until McQuerie sat down in the empty seat next to him.

"Just leave me alone," Malfoy thought as he heard her say, "Hello," and felt her nuzzle his leg with her foot.

He feared for what was going to happen next. She smoothly ran her hand up his thigh, near his groin. He was afraid that she might make him too excited, causing him to feel even more flustered. Suddenly he felt an immense amount of pain in his shin, for she had kicked him, very, very hard.

"You are such an asshole," she muttered to him under her breath. She gave him an evil grin.

As he grabbed his aching leg, he said quite audibly, "Bloody, Everlasting, Hell."