Meanwhile, in Slytherin, a petite young girl stared at the portraithole. Her huge turquouise eyes, neatly accentuated with make-up, were narrowed.
She didn't know the password. This would be a problem.
Tossing her black braid over her shoulder, she screeched.
"LET ME IN, GOD DAMMIT!" And despite the fact that she was about five feet tall, she had the lung power of.. several people.
Inside the common room, Draco Malfoy started. A faint shout had come through the portrait, and he stood.
"Whozzat?" Goyle stared dumbly at the back of the portrait, as if expecting a ghost to come gliding through.
"I don't know," Draco snapped, "I haven't open the portrait yet." He swung it open and stared down at the girl.
She was quite curvy, and this was emphasized by a sparkly blue halter top and black jeans. She smiled prettily up at Draco.
"Oh, there you are. I was wondering how to get this thing open."
"Ooohhh!" Suddenly, Draco's mild daze was interrupted by a squeal. Pansy Parkingson dashed over.
"You must be Jezebel Zion~" she squeaked.
Draco's nerves frayed like an ahfgan blanket.
"Deal with this.. person," he said in a clipped voice, and stalked back to Crabbe and Goyle.
Jezebel proceeded to grin like a maniac.
"Yes, I'm Jezzie. You're Pansy?" She sniggered softly.
Pansy looked rather confused and settled on just nodding.
"Goooooooood doggie. Carry this." Jezebel shoved her trunk into Pansy's arm and began to saunter up to the girls' dorm.
Pansy looked affronted, but obviously had no choice but to follow. Thus, she did.

-----------

Later, Jezebel was again down in the common room. She had succeeded on attracting most of the boys in Slytherin, and they had discovered she was a stray exchange student from America. Why she was there, she refused to disclose.
Draco watched her with a sneer. She had no class and no taste -- her clothing was downright trashy, and .. what the HELL was she doing now?
The full-figured young lady had skidded onto a table and begun to sing. She had a rather nice voice, wild and cigarette-husky. Someone had cast a spell for music, and the tempo was hard and rough.

"She paints her nails and she don't know,
He's got her best friend on the phone,
She'll wash her hair and his dirty clothes
Are all he gives to her..
And he's got posters on the wall
Of all the girls he wishes she was,
And he means EVERYTHING to her!"

She was using an amplifying spell so everyone could hear her better. Draco got the impression she was singing this from experience, as if she knew how this poor neglected woman in the song felt. He did not, however, feel any sympathy for her. If she had been stupid enough to be manipulated, well.. she'd obviously gotten over it. She continued to sing, gyrating to the music with such intensity he thought perhaps she was going to do something drastic. Or if she kept that hip-shimmying thing up, he was going to do something drastic. Like haul her off the table and to his quarters.

"Her boyfriend, yeah, he don't know
Anything about her
He's too stoned, nintendo?
I wish that I could make her see..
She's just the flavor of the weak!"

She took a deep breath and grinned, her black braid swinging like a whip.

"It's friday night, she's all alone..
He's a million miles away,
She's dressed to kill
The TV's on
He's connected to the sound..
He's got pictures on the wall
Of all the girls he's loved before
And she knows all his favorite songs!"

Jezebel tossed on a random hat, pulling the bill low over her eyes. She definitely had the sexual charisma thing down.

"Her boyfriend, yeah, he don't know
Anything about her
He's too stoned, nintendo?
I wish that I could make her see..
She's just the flavor of the weak!"

Her tone got softer, sexier, and her movements slower and more deliberate. Intended to appeal to the male gender, and Draco could swear her eyes flickered over him for half a second.

"Her boyfriend..
He don't know..
Anything..
About her.."

Again her voice got harsh. Angry.

"He's too stoned!
Too stoned!
Too damn stoned!
Her boyfriend, he don't know
Anything about her
He's too stoned! Nintendo?
I wish that I could make her see..
She's just the flavor of the weak!
Yeah, she's the flavor of the weak!"

Then with a soft sexy whimper, so pitiful it almost made Draco feel bad for her -- almost, but not quite --

"She makes me bleed.."

Breathlessly, she fell off the table, flat on her back at Draco's feet. He leaned over in his chair to stare at her.
He couldn't help but noticing how pretty she was -- her heart-shaped face was golden-skinned, her eyes bright and shocking against dark hair. Her cheeks were flushed.
"Yo, what's uuuup mah homie~?" She beamed up at him, and the momentary visage of loveliness was lost.
"You're on my feet," he said distastefully. She frowned and sat up.
At that precise moment, the bell rang for dinner.