An Opposite is a Perfect Match (MC x Garreth Weasley)

Leander's Missteps

"You know how those Slytherin purebloods are. Always lording over the rest of us," Rosaline barely caught the end of Leander's sentence, just as she was about to round the corner near the Defense Against the dark Arts Classroom. "I thought Gaunt and Sallow were bad, but the new Wintrell girl is just as awful. I tried having a chat with her in Herbology the other day and she was wholly uninterested."

Rosaline had heard that Leander often ran his mouth, Sebastian and Ominis attesting to the Gryffindor's inability to support his venomous words with actions. She had thought she would be prepared for the first time his words were turned towards her, having had a taste of his ire when he commented on Sebastian's wayward Bombarda in their first DADA class. But to hear him spewing such vitriol after only speaking to her once had a righteous anger rising in her chest. She rounded the corner, fully intending to let Leander have it, when she caught sight of his companion; Garreth Weasley. His face was, for once, set with a serious countenance as he nodded along with his fellow Gryffindor, one hand on his chin.

"I know what you mean. After she refused to help me with my last potion experiment, she gave me immensely unhelpful advice. If she was going to help at all, I would rather have gotten the Fwooper feather."

Now, Rosaline had no misunderstanding about her relationship with Garreth Weasley. Since their encounter in potions, They had been amiable enough. Sometimes nodding to the other in the halls, co-existing peacefully in their shared classes. They were nowhere near friends, she would barely consider them acquaintances, but she did think their relationship was based on a modicum of respect for the other. She had admired Gareth's ingenuity with potions, she often experimented with her grandfather, and not everyone was successful, but she also knew that patience and basic potion theory made a world of difference, and the classroom, especially during a lesson, was not the time for tinkering with unknowns.

"Arrogant, the lot of them," Leander continued, "They get worse the more their pride goes unchecked."

Rosaline's face grew hot as she passed the boys into the classroom, their voices grew quiet as she approached, and remained so long after she had pushed her way through the door. She didn't feel betrayed or sad by Garreth's gossiping, but she did feel angry that he would do so blatantly without ever having tried to know her better. She would never gossip about a person's character, especially based only on one interaction. That irritation lasted nearly the whole class period, and she channeled it into her spell work, sending Professor's Hecat's training dummy flying with a well-balanced incendio before sending the charred wood into the floor with a very powerful descendo which splintered the dummy's wooden wheels.

"Very good, Miss Wintrell. Points to Slytherin for demonstrating that will and intention are just as necessary as proper form and wand movement when on the defensive." Professor Hecat nodded at her before beckoning the next student forward. The intensity of spell casting certainly improved as the class continued, but no one could match Rosaline's ferocity.

***

Garreth was watching her. After Defense Against the Dark Arts, Rosaline had left quickly, despite a few of her classmates calling after her, inquiring about her outburst. She refused to look at either Garreth or Leander, having marched past them with her head high and eyes forward. Since then, however, the unnatural pricking sensation from his own eyes seemed to never cease. In class, in the halls, during meals; it seemed like hair on Rosaline's neck was always prickling and anytime she looked up it was his gaze she caught. He tried to play it off though, often re-directing his gaze or playing that he was lost in thought, but Rosaline saw the way his throat bobbed when she met his eyes.

Rosaline had taken to the common room, spending most of her time reading before the fire or completing schoolwork in front of the great windows that gazed out into the murk of the black lake. She became close with Imelda during this time, who often tried to give her tips on flying and quidditch. The game was not a popular one at Beauxbatons, and much of the high-class student body took to using Pegasus drawn carriages to travel. Rosaline flew well enough, but she did not enjoy it overly much. She found it chaffed her legs and sent burning aches up her back after too long.