rosalinewintrell

[rosalinewintrell]

Most of the characters in hogwarts legacy would have been alive during the sinking of the Titanic. Thats it that’s the post.

[rosalinewintrell]

Hey everyone! Long time time no....type! Sorry for my extended absence, I moved and a lot of crazy things happened because I moved but!

Fear Not! I will be back soon! And guess what? I decided to wrote for more characters because like a DUMBASS I thought I was gonna be okay just writing for Garreth and Rosaline but that is not the case.

So! Soon I am going to creat a HL dedicated blog where I can post all my things and not just the Rosaline x Gar stuff (but don't worry Ros and Gar will still be there!)

So look out for that! See you soon! Xxx

[rosalinewintrell]

A few of my own personal Garreth headcanons that no one asked for 😌❤️🦁

Did I factcheck anything related to Garreth before posting this? Hell no. All these live in my head illegally and rent-free regardless of canon.

He's a middle child! Of a household containing at least four other children, but my personal thought is five to six.

It's easy to get lost in the crowd at his house while growing up. Or at least that's how he felt. His love for potions actually started out as a begrudging last-ditch effort to garner his parents' attention. When the first miscreation worked, he ran with it. It was hard to ignore a kid who seemed to always create an explosion by dashing whatever he could into a cauldron.

This also bleeds into his school life. At school he struggled to find "individuality" in his fellow students'/teachers' eyes because "Oh look! Another weasley. Same shit, different face".

But the one time he actually (miraculously) made something successful, it was the first time he'd ever felt like he was something. That's when he really began actively trying to be good at it.

He's actually colorblind. It's hard for him to discern if his mixtures have turned into the appropriate colors or not, which is the leading cause of over 80% of brew failures and subsequential explosions.

But he doesn't tell anyone because he already gets enough kids making fun of him for his red hair, freckles, and hand-me-downs. He doesn't need another reason for them to whisper and giggle.

He writes all of his trials, errors, and experimentation ideas inside of a leatherbound notebook that his Aunt Matilda gave to him on Christmas one year

During his free periods he's always outside in the woods, gathering ingredients. Or reading potion books.

He loves Herbology (because it goes hand in hand with potion-making, after all), but Herbology does not love him. The boy can't keep a plant alive to save his life- hence the gathering.

Doesn't bend pages and sees no point in purchasing bookmarks. Marks all his places in books with whatever wildflower or pretty leaf is growing bearby. Forgets to take them out after he's done, too. If you happen to borrow a book from him and flip through the pages they'll fall out like confetti.

A master of the sneak. He'd actually be in detention far more than Sebastian of he wasn't. Owes everything he knows in that regard to his oldest brother (he taught him how to get the cookies off the top of the fridge without so much as creaking a floorboard- and he even has to walk past his parents' bedroom to get there)

He's a morning person. First to rise, and he's up before even the sun is. But he's awful at staying up late. He always tries his best but the poor thing is yawning and dozing off in the Common Room by seven.

Heavy sleeper. Have to be, in such a noisy house.

He doesn't snore, but he does hog all the blankets. Poor baby gets cold easy.

And if he's sleeping next to someone he's the biggest cuddle monster to ever live. Beware!!!! Not nessassarily intentionally, but it always ends up with him hugging you like an octopus all the same.

Left handed

A flirt. Hella flirt. He isn't overtly loud about it like Sebastian is, but that doesn't mean he isn't always doing it. He's cheesy af. Aaaallllll the terrible pickup lines and will not hesitate to make himself look silly in front of others just to make you laugh or put a smile on your face

That's all for now but I'll add more whenever they pop into my head 😌

[rosalinewintrell]

Christmas at Hogwarts Part One

I'm back! I know I'm a little late but I'm gettkng ready to move next week so between my job and packing I'm booked!

Anyway! Here is Part one of a Christmas at Hogwarts. It was getting long so I split it!

A few days before Christmas, Rosaline is bundled up, sitting inside The Three Broomsticks with her grandparents. Her grandmother, Silvia Alexandra Wintrell, was reviewing their small Teatime menu, her grandfather, Reginald Beaumont Buchanon Wintrell II, reading over her shoulder, gaze flickering to the clock on the wall. “My dear,” Reginald says, “They will be here any minute, you must choose something.” His voice is slightly gruff, but there is humor in his words, an adoring, appeasing twinkle in his eye.

They are both dressed warmly and smartly. Silvia, in a pale blue suit made of soft wool with white lace and pearl embellishments, a white, fur trimmed capelet covered her shoulders. Her dark grey hair was pulled into an elegant twist at the back of her head. Reginald was dressed in a pressed suit, a sharp black wool coat over top. His hair was white, but still full, slicked back and curling at the nape of his neck, and well-groomed mustache, curling with the shape of his smile as he regarded his wife.

“Get the Light Tea with the Big Red Robe Oolang tea.” Her grandfather said, pointing at it on the menu. “We all know that’s your favorite.” He glanced at Rosaline and winks, playful smile on his face as he teased his wife.

“Oh hush, you,” Her grandmother responds, smacking her husband’s arm away, her own teasing smile curving at her lips. But indeed, when Sirona stopped bye for their order, the inn keeper’s charm quickly endearing her to the elder Wintrell couple, Silvia ordered the Light Tea with a sample of dark Oolang tea.

“Thank you, dear,” Silvia smiled at Sirona, as the woman walked away to put the kettle on. Reginald rolled his eyes playfully behind his wife’s head, an amused smile still alight on his face.

Then, the door to the inn opened, allowing a gust of snow and wind to fly through the space. Rosaline shivered, despite still being wrapped in her coat. She saw Garreth walk in, rubbing his arms. He is quickly followed by his father, a tall man that shared his son’s head of fiery hair. She could the bright strands peeking out from under his flat brimmed cap. They were both bundled in wide-collared wool coats and matching gloves.

After a cursory glance around the inn, Garreth spots Rosaline, sending her a wide smile before walking over with his father close behind. The three Wintrells stood as the pair approached the table, Reginald reaching his hand out towards Garreth’s father.

“Reginald,” He said, smiling politely. “Reginald Wintrell. A pleasure to meet you.”

Garreth’s father returns the handshake, grip firm. “Gregory Weasley. The pleasure is mine.” he says. He then puts a supportive hand on his son’s shoulder. “This is my son, Garreth.”

“It’s an honor, sir,” Garreth says, shaking Reginald’s hand. No one comments if his voice cracks just a little.

“Ah, young Garreth!” Reginald says, smile widening, “I’ve heard many things about you.”

“Oh, really?” Garreth says with genuine surprise, glancing at Rosaline and noting the slight pink hue of her cheeks. “All good, I hope.”

Reginald chuckles and nods. “Yes, I would say so.” He doesn’t seem to notice his granddaughter’s embarrassment, but Silvia is watching Rosaline with an amused smile.

“Gregory, this is my wife, Silvia, and my Granddaughter, Rosaline.” Reginald introduced, motioning to the two women.

Gregory leaned forward to shake hands with both, a smile on his face. “It is a pleasure to meet you, young lady,” he said to Rosaline. “My son has spoken of you often, as well.” The older man flicked a teasing smile towards his son, Garreth now sporting his own faint blush.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Weasley,” Rosaline said with her own smile.

“Call me Gregory, please,” Gregory said. “Shall we sit?”

Everyone but Rosaline’s grandmother removed their outer wear now that they would all be sitting together. Silvia was quite sensitive to the cold, so she chose to leave her capelet on, begging forgiveness, which was quickly waved away by Gregory. Both Gregory and Garreth were wearing simple suits, tweed vests over linen shirts. Gregory wore a brown bowtie to match his olive vest. Garreth wore a long tie cobalt in color matched with a burgundy vest. Both jackets were of a similar style and brown.

Rosaline wore a light pink cotton skirt and jacket combination, a ruffled cream shirt peaking out from the between the lapels, the collar secured with a small bird shaped pin. The sleeves of the jackets were puffed by the shoulder before tapering at the wrist. Cream lace overlays on the end of them matched the draped lace across the front of her skirt. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck.

She exchanged quick smiles with Garreth as they sat before Sirona approached, a small, tiered tray in hand, a simple white tea set floating on a tray beside her. The tiered plates hosted an assortment of Salami and ham sandwiches as well as a selection of fruit scones and tarts. The set included pots of clotted cream and butter.

“So Garreth,” Reginald said, buttering a scone, “Rosaline tells me you alerted her the the issues regarding this potions shop?”

“Yes sir,” Garreth affirmed, “I asked Rosaline to look inspect it a few months ago.”

“And why was that?” Reginald asked, eyes now trained evenly on Garreth’s face. Sitting back in his chair, white slicked hair, pinstriped suit, a cup of tea poised in his hand, he looked every bit the wealthy, powerful ma he was. Tea had barely begun, and he was on to business.

“I… I’m sorry sir?” Garreth glanced at his father, but Gregory only nodded at Garreth, allowing his son to navigate this first part of the conversation.

“Why did you seek Rosaline out for her help? Why not involve a professor? Your potions professor, perhaps?”

Garreth shifted in his seat as Reginald elaborated on his question. “Well, we attend the same potions class sir, I had seen her knowledge at work I knew she would be able to help me.” Garreth hesitated. “I’m afraid I don’t have the greatest relationship with Professor Sharp.”

“Unfortunately,” Gregory interceded, tight smile on his face, “My son has a bad habit of performing experiments in class.” His voice was tight, a bit of defeat stressing his words.

“Ah, an inventor, are you?” Reginald asked Garreth, a small spark in his blue eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Garreth replied, glancing quickly to Rosaline. She smiled at him and nodded slightly in encouragement. “I’m currently working on a recipe for Fizzing Whizbeer.”

“Oh!” Reginald said, before Garreth could continue. He his stroking his moustache between two fingers, eyes wide, voice interested. “Based on those wonderful little candies at the sweets shop? I tried one this morning, they are quite delightful!”

“Yes sir,” Garreth nodded, smile bright on his face. He leaned forward just a bit in his excitement. “I’ve nearly perfected it, I’m just having issues with—”

Gregory’s hand on Garreth’s shoulder quiets him. The elder Weasley pulls his son back into his seat. “Now son, I don’t think Mr. Wintrell is interested in your… hobby.” Gregory says this not unkindly, but it is clear he isn’t a big fan of Garreth’s preoccupation with potion making.

“Oh, call me Reginald please.” Rosaline’s grandfather said, though his gaze was a bit more serious as he regarded Gerald now.

“Rosaline dear,” Silvia said then, a soft smile on her face, “why don’t you and Garreth run over to Honeydukes, grab your grandfather a box of that candy. I haven’t seen him so taken with a sweet in decades.”

Reginald spluttered at his wife a little, claiming he is not taken with anything, and he enjoys sweets on a healthy basis thank you!

Rosaline chuckled at her grandparents, but wordlessly grabbed her jacket. Throwing it over her shoulders and walking out of the Three Broomsticks with Garreth in tow. There wasn’t much else they could do after such a blatant, if polite, dismissal.

“I suppose they’ll be talking about us,” Garreth said once the door was closed behind them. They took slow steps, allowing the adults their time to discuss amongst themselves.

“No doubt,” Rosaline said, huffing a small laugh. She glances at him, hiding her gaze under her lashes, but Garreth still feels the prickle of her attention.

“What is it, Rosaline?” He asks plainly.

“Does you father disapprove of your potion making?” She replied plainly in turn.

Garreth sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not the potions making he disapproves of. The failures, the explosions, and messes and… detentions—he doesn’t approve of the trouble I get into or the time I spend in the potions lab rather than studying. He thinks of it as just a hobby he—he doesn’t understand…”

“That it’s more than just a hobby,” Rosaline finished for him, her expression full of sympathy for him as he nodded, seeming a bit dejected about the whole thing. “I’m sorry Garreth.”

Garreth shook his head with a sigh. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says, turning to look at her with a smile. “Your grandad is awesome. Terrifying, but awesome.”

“He is his own kind of person, certainly,” Rosaline said with a chuckle. Her grandfather always tipped the scales of emotional range, His eccentric sensibilities just as apparent as his more serious countenance.

“He seems nice though, overall.” Garreth added as he stepped ahead of Rosaline so he could open the door to Honeydukes for her.

“He likes you, I knew he would, though.” Rosaline grinned, noting the pink flush on his cheeks and the silly smile on his face.

“He likes me? You think so?” His voice is now light and giddy, like a small child after seeing a puppy for the first time. 

“Definitely,” Rosaline wandered through the aisles, she grabs a box of Fizzing Whizbees for her grandfather. “He’s getting these to help with your research, after all.”

Garreth looks between Rosaline and the box of candy in his hand. Mouth open, eyes wide in disbelief.  “He is not!” he cried, shock and an underlying giddy hum in his voice. Rosaline’s smile widened as Garreth’s excitement grew. “I don’t—I can’t, Rosaline I cannot believe this.”

She chuckled, stepping up to the register, paying for the sweets quickly before trailing Garreth out the door. “You’d better believe it,” Rosaline said, “You’ve quite impressed him between your observations of J. Pippins and” Rosalie paused here, nearly choking on the force of the words. She cleared her throat and shook her head. “Never- never mind.”

But her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, embarrassment clear on her face. Garreth smiled mischievously as he watched Rosaline try to act around her slip. “Between that and what, Rosaline?” He inquired, playful, teasing voice ghosting across her ear.

Caught, Rosaline looked away, cheeks still hot. “I… might’ve written about you. Once or twice.” She admitted, trying and failing not to look at his smiling, nearly smug face.

“Ah what wonderful praise it must have been,” Garreth placed a light a hand on her lower back and leaned closer towards her, “If he is truly so impressed by me, as you have said.” His words were teasing, but eyes were bright as he watched her face, flickering from her eyes to the pink staining her cheeks.

“I—I merely said you are quite… skilled with potions is all.” Rosaline insists, clasping her hands behind her back averting her gaze to her feet. Garreth continues to smile down at her, eyes trailing over the curl of her blonde eyelashes, the line of her nose, down to her lips which were pouted just a bit. Her hair is fastened back by a ribbon, most of it draping over shoulders, some straggling strands framed her face.

“I have not yet said so but,” Garreth reaches out and cups her jaw lightly, turning her head up so he could see her face fully, soft olive eyes meeting wide, onyx orbs. “You look quite beautiful today.”

Rosaline’s heart fluttered, Garreth’s eyes and easy smile regarded her, his warm fingers on her chilled skin. “You look quite dashing, yourself.” Rosaline responded, voice stuttering a little.

“You think?” Garreth asked, eyes crinkling with his widening smile. “Mum tried to put me in a suit from my brother’s wedding. Paps insisted this would be sufficient.” Garreth looked down, giving his attire a quick once over before looking back at Rosaline. “I’m glad he was right.”

“Yes I—I am glad too.” Rosaline said quietly and Garreth stepped away, offering her his arm for the short walk back to the Three Broomsticks. They walked quietly together, nodding their heads in greeting to a few passersby before reentering the inn.

The adults were still stalking, thought it seemed like the topic at hand was friendly and light, Silvia watching the two men chat amicably with a small smile. “Ah, your back, dear. I assume things went to plan then?”

Rosaline handed her grandmother the box of sweets before shedding her coat and sitting once more. “Oh yes, I do believe that’s them.” Silvia said, glancing over the box and then passing it to her husband. “Here Reginald, look.”

“Ah yes,” Reginald said, pulling a pair of reading glasses out of his breast pocket and perching them on his nose to look over the box himself. “Quite a fun little treat, I think. Tell me, Garreth,” Reginald says, glancing at the boy, “Will your potion also cause levitation, or simply replicate the taste?”

Garreth glanced over at his father, expecting the elder Weasley to stop him from discussing his experiments. Instead, Gregory nodded his head in approval, though his expression remained neutral. “That would be the best outcome, sir,” Garreth explained, “I’m still having trouble finding a levitation recipe that remains stable once the flavorings are added.”

“Yes, I am sure you are.” Reginald said, almost to himself. “And the flavor recipe… that is your original recipe? Just based the flavor of these?”

“Yes, sir I have probably eaten about twenty boxes worth,” Garreth cringed a bit when his father sighed upon the admission, but it had been for research. Now that he had his flavor recipe perfected, he hadn’t even touched one.

Reginald simply laughed, shoulders shaking in delight, “A sign of true dedication, certainly!” Rosaline glanced over at Garreth as her grandfather laughed, offering him a reassuring smile and nod.

“I am asking you these things, Garreth, because I see a great deal of untapped potential in you.” Reginald said after sobering himself. He now regarded Garreth with a kind, but serious expression, his hands folded on the table in front of him. “Your father has agreed to my offer to oversee your potioneering outside of the classroom, culminating in a two week stay at my home during your summer holiday, where I will instruct you personally.” The Wintrell patriarch said with a small smirk, continuing before Garreth could interrupt. “There are a few conditions to this opportunity and if you accept the offer, you will be agreeing to these as well.”

Garreth didn’t need to think twice, he was being offered an apprenticeship with one of the most famous potioneers in modern history, he wouldn’t allow himself to get in his own way. “Of course, sir,” he said quickly, “anything.”

Rosaline hid a smile behind her hand as she watched Garreth’s eyes go wide and his smile brighten to epic proportions, rivalling even a child’s expression when first entering a toy store. She also spies a delighted twinkle in her grandfather’s eyes. She was a good pupil, took to his tutelage gratefully, but she did not have the raw, experimental talent Garreth did. He would make for a much more engaging apprentice.

She was happy for them both.

[rosalinewintrell]

Hey Friends!

I am feeling really stuck with thisbpartnof the story and struggling with a bit of burn out on top of it. I'm going to take the first half of this week off and post the next part on Friday.

I just feel like I am not producing top quality content for you guys and I'd rather take a break then slog through and bring you less than satisfying writing.

Thanks for understanding:)

[rosalinewintrell]

Winter Break

Hello everyone! Part fifteen is here offering a look into this new dynamic between Rosaline and Garreth. We also get a bit more information about Rosaline's family dynamic.

I hope you all enjoy! Please like, comment or reblog if you do!

Winter fell over the school quickly, snow falling heavily once it began, draping the grounds in fluffy sea of white. Rosaline found herself bundling up more, even inside the castle, often attending classes with a scarf wrapped tight around her shoulders. She didn’t venture out very often either, apologizing to Imelda every morning as the dark-headed Slytherin tried and failed to convince her to go out for flying sessions.

Most often, she could be found in the Slytherin Common room, wrapped in cardigans and sweaters with thick wool socks on her feet either reading or staring blankly into the flames. She’d always hated winter.

This was where Tollie, a house elf tasked with handing out mail to any Slytherins in the common room, found her about two weeks into December.

“A letter for you, Miss,” The elf said, handing the white envelope to her.

“Oh, thank you, Tollie,” Rosaline said as she took it, making sure not to touch the elf’s hands with her own freezing fingers.

Turning the letter over revealed familiar handwriting, the letter sealed with red wax, imprinted with a Gryffindor lion. A smile tugged at Rosaline’s lips as she carefully pooped the wax seal and pulled out the parchment inside.

Garreth’s letter was simple, but rambling, he wrote the same way he spoke. His father had agreed to make a day trip out to Hogsmeade to meet with her grandparents two days before Christmas. Everything seemed to be set. The group would meet at the Three Broomsticks for tea and a chat, and that would be that. Though, knowing her grandfather there was sure to be more to his visit than he initially disclosed. She wouldn’t try to make sense of his thoughts though; it would be a futile exercise.

She lingered on his closing, fingers running over the dried ink.

Yours, he had written, and the image of him writing that word, on a letter intended for her made her heart skip a beat, and a bit of heat to flush up her face.

She’d thought about the way he had kissed her and then…the way he hadn’t that day in Hogsmeade, over and over again. She didn’t know him, not well, not enough to justify her melancholy over their new distance.

Perhaps distance was the wrong word. Garreth still went out of his way to see her, to converse with her in and out of classes, but their interactions always felt heavy, stifled by some unseen weight that now dangled between them. At least, it was something she noticed. She wondered if Garreth noticed it too.

“You look like somebody killed your kitten,” Imelda said, falling into the couch cushion beside her.

“I don’t have a kitten,” Rosaline said coolly, though a small smile appeared on her face.

“What else am I supposed to say? Hey, Rosaline, you look like shit, want to head to lunch?”

Rosaline laughed at Imelda’s dramatics. The quidditch prodigy had spent most of the morning packing for the winter holiday. She would be leaving that evening right before dinner. They had planned to have lunch together before Rosaline said her farewell.

“You might be my best friend, but I am not walking all the way to the station and back in this weather.” Rosaline had told her the day before, giggling at Imelda’s affronted look. 

“Do I really look that bad?” Rosaline asked, smile spreading on her face as her friend sat and pretended to ponder the question.

“I guess not,” Imelda finally said, “But you do look like a kicked puppy.”

Rosaline huffed and shook her head, “I’m just…thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.” Imelda snorted, shrieking indignantly when Rosaline launched a throw pillow at her. “It’s true!” she cried, “You’re a serial overthinker.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to hear about it!” Rosaline laughed, helping Imelda tame her now mussed hair.

“You need the reminder! Get out of your head. It’s where all your bloody problems start!”

Rosaline sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. “What am I going to do without you for two weeks?”

“Probably decide the answer to your problems is mass murder.” Imelda supplied, sarcasm dripping from her words. There was a moment of silence, and then another throw pillow came thwumping into Imelda’s chest. “Okay, I deserved that one,” she laughed.

***

By the time dinner rolled around, the castle felt dreadfully empty, the difference in atmosphere a bit of a shock to her. She had never been in the castle when it was so empty. Sure, she’s had her own post-curfew adventures, but even then, she’d known that hundreds of students were lurking about somewhere. Knowing she was one of only a few people in the immense building almost made her feel uncomfortable.

It was a welcome relief when she turned a corner in the defense against the dark arts tower to find Garreth, standing in front of a set of large windows, watching fat, heavy snowflakes whirl quickly to the ground. It was daylight, but the light of the sun was muted by the dense clouds packed in the sky. The cold light that poured through the window washed over him, highlighting the patterns of the freckles spread over his face. His eyes are bright, soft jade irises flickering from one snowflake to another as he watched them sink. He is wearing a Gryffindor sweater over a white collared shirt and burgundy tie, his hands tucked into his trouser pockets.

He heard her steps and, upon making eye contact, smiled brightly at her. “Hey Rosaline,” he said, voice carrying through the empty hall. He frowned as he took in her appearance; she had just come from the Owlry, she had her family their Christmas presents. Her mother, brother, and father were staying in London for Christmas, the location more advantageous for its access to the Ministry and distance from the Auror Academy.

The walk had been long and honestly dreadful.

Rosaline’s hair was wind swept, cheeks and nose a deep pink from the cold and wind. She was wearing a long woolen coat and gloves, a long scarf embroidered with the Slytherin Crest wrapped around her shoulder, neck, and chin. Still, she shivered.

“What happened to you?” Garreth said closing the space between them and placing his hands on her arms, rubbing them as though to help warm her. “You’re frozen solid!”

Garreth leads her towards a small sitting area, a warm fireplace crackling, two large chairs in front of the hearth, a table bearing a tea set, already supplied with dark, steaming tea between them. He helps Rosaline remove her wet coat and deposits her in on of the chairs, kneeling in front of her to continue rubbing her arms, trying to work some warmth back into her limbs.

“What were you doing out in this kind of weather anyway?”

Rosaline shivers, teeth chattering just a bit. “I- I ha-had to mail s-s-some gifts,” she managed as she curled into herself to conserve some heat. Garreth sheds his cloak, pulling it around Rosaline’s shoulders and clasping then around her neck. His warmth and scent engulfed her immediately, earthy, and warm, with the slightest hint of vanilla.

“Sending gifts? To who? Why now?” he asked as he clasped his robe around her, before looking up at her. Hos brows are furrowed, concern and confusion warring equally on his face.

Rosaline takes a moment to warm up, her shivers slowing, before answering his question. Garreth waits patiently, watching her face while his hands rubbed her knees in warm circles. “I forgot to mail my family’ Christmas gifts, if I didn’t send them today, they wouldn’t make it to London in time.”

“London? I thought your family was coming to Aranshire for the Holidays.”

“My grandparents are coming to Aranshire. My father and brother are staying in London, not far from the Ministry and Academy. My mother is joining them.” Rosaline explains watching the flames scatter shadows over the edge of his jaw.

Garreth’s hands stopped, “I… I thought you’d be seeing your whole family was coming for the holiday.”

Rosaline shook her head, “My father needs to be close to the Ministry for work, Aranshire if much too far. And… I haven’t seen my brother at Christmas for the last two years.” She shrugs again. “I’m just happy to be seeing my grandparents.”

“So,” Garreth said slowly and quietly, “They just, decided to see each other without you?”

Rosaline furrows her brows at him, not quite understanding his concern, a lot of student stayed at the school over the holidays rather than going home, why was this different. Her father’s job needed to come before pretty much everything, especially now that he was in contention to become High Warlock.

“I don’t understand why you’re so concerned over this,” Rosaline said blankly and with a small bit of confusion.

“It just… it just sounds a little lonely is all.” Garreth said.

“But why are you so concerned about me not seeing my parents. Most of the students here aren’t either. You aren’t, I know that.”

“I mean, aren’t they choosing London over you? Aren’t they choosing each other without you.?”

“No! Goodness no, my father cannot leave the city. He’s working on something to do with the Goblin Uprising, he needs to stay there in case anything happens. By brother is already at the academy and my mother… I would never ask her to leave him for so long.” Rosaline is watching his face, he hasn’t looked at her once since sitting her down, focusing instead on where his hands are trying to rub heat into her arms. But now he looks up at her, surprise clear on his face.

“Are they… really that close? Your parents?” He asks, thinking about his own parents, about the obvious love and care they show for each other, but he couldn’t imagine them being so inseparable.

Rosaline’s lips curve up in a soft, sweet smile, the gentle happiness she feels when ruminating n her parents’ long, fraught story. “They were star-crossed lovers, actually.” Rosaline says. The retelling of this story, while tucked into her mother’s side as a child had created a bit of a romantic in Rosaline.

“My parents had met while my father was apprenticing in France, they quickly became lovers, secretly of course, her family… had their own plans for her. They were going to marry her off to a man twice her age. He was known for his mean streak, and string of dead wives.”

Garreth listened intently as Rosaline spoke about her parents, her eyes soft and light, a smile on her face the whole time. He had never heard such an utterly romantic story before, not one that was true anyway, and he almost doesn’t believe what he’s hearing, but he knows Rosaline, knows she would never lie about something like this.

“She ran the night before the wedding, used a locket charmed as a portkey by my grandfather. Once she was on the Wintrell grounds… there was nothing her family could do without starting an outright feud so, they disgraced and disowned her, not that she was ever truly upset about it.” Rosaline shrugs as she discusses her mother’s family. She had never met or even seen a member of the Rupusé clan, and she never wanted to.

“Wow,” Garreth said after a moment of silence, “It’s like they came straight out of a romance novel.” He understood now, Rosaline’s acceptance of what he thought to be lonely Christmas plans, even though she didn’t necessarily choose to spend her holiday away from her parents.

Rosaline nodded her agreement. She had stopped shivering, but her cheeks were still red and raw, her hands freezing when Garreth reached down to take them in his own. “You’re going to catch a cold like this,” he said, “Come on, I’ll take you back to your common room.”

Garreth helped Rosaline stand from the chair, tucking her hand into his elbow and grabbing her coat. The trip to the dungeons was quiet, but comfortable, Rosaline leaning a bit closer to Garreth to soak in some of his natural warmth. When they reached the Slytherin Common Room, He turned to her, serious look on his face.

“Make sure you change into some dry clothes and take a warm bath! You don’t need to be getting sick.” he said sternly, and Rosaline couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Okay, I will, I promise,” she said.

“You better,” Garreth said, a bit of humor now leaking into his voice, “Or I shall be very cross with you.” Then, he let her go, watching her disappear into the serpentine door, waving as she glanced back at him one more time.

[rosalinewintrell]

Hey All, I think I am gonna have to push tonight's upload to tomorrow. Work jas been busy this week and I just haven't been able to finish the next part.

Sorry! But I'll see you tomorrow!

[rosalinewintrell]

The Letter

You guys! It's Wednesday! I forgot what day it was! This isn't my favorite chapter, and I know it reflects in my writing, but I just couldn't figure out a way to cut it and make the next little arc make sense. There is a possibility I'll revise it in the future.

I hope you enjoy!

A few weeks later, Garreth and Rosaline were in potions together, though they sat at separate stations now. Things had remained comfortable between them, even if some of Garreth’s longing looks were more than simply friendly. He seemed to be keeping his word, about taking a step back, for now.

It saddened Rosaline a little. She had truly enjoyed Garreth’s company and his easy manner, but it seemed like this distance was something he wanted, or needed, in order to prove something to himself, and far be it from Rosaline to try and stand in his way. They were still friends, of course, it was hard to stop being Garreth’s friend once you began after all, but she couldn’t say she didn’t miss the closeness they had shared for a little while.

And now, to make things even more complicated, she had received a letter from her grandfather regarding Garreth’s concerns over the stock at J. Pippins Potions it read:

Dear Rosaline,

Thank you for alerting me to the questionable quality of the School’s closest potions shop—J. Pippins you said? I recall the name, but I remember it being such a well-run shop I never thought to inspect it before deciding to move you to Hogwarts.

I sent a proxy to look over the place last week and they indeed reported that the quality and quantity of the shop’s inventory was quite lacking. It is of great importance that we remedy this as quickly—and cordially—as possible. That being said, I am planning on moving the Family to the Ainsworth Estate for the Christmas Holidays so we might all go and see about this issue ourselves.

Before we do so, however, I would like to meet the young man who alerted you to the issue. I believe you said his name was Garreth Weasley? They are a good family; I am not surprised one of their ilk discovered what was going on.

Please prepare your friend to meet with your grandmother and I over Christmas break, along with one of his parents. It wouldn’t do to interview the boy without some support after all. I will send another owl once I have more details regarding our travel.

With Love,

GrandPapa

The letter had arrived two days prior, another containing her Grandparents’ travel had just arrived that morning and now Rosaline had no reason to put off telling Garreth. She wasn’t worried about his reaction, but she also didn’t want to interrupt his own plans for the Christmas break. She agonized over what she would say to him the entire class, her eyes glancing towards him as he concentrated on his own notes. She was lucky they were taking theory notes today. She might’ve blown something up otherwise.

She was able to catch him before he left the room, stopping him with a quick tap to his shoulder. “Garreth, could I have a moment?”

“Of course, Rosaline,” the Gryffindor said brightly, “Anything for you. Walk with me?”

She explained things as best she could as they walked, trying to stay quiet as they walked through the halls. She wasn’t discussing anything remotely secretive, but she still didn’t want people to know about her business. She was a private person by nature, and that was only compounded by her family’s political fame. “They’d like to speak with you and one of your parents around Christmas, if they could. If it won’t interrupt your holiday, of course.”

Garreth shook his head with his normal nonchalance despite the news, simply shrugging and looking down at her with a smile. “I’ll send a letter to my parents tonight, but it shouldn’t be an issue. I stay here Christmas usually anyway.”

“And…your parents won’t mind travelling?” Rosaline inquired. She really was concerned about upsetting Garreth or his family.

“Nah, especially if only one needs to make the trip. My Pops will probably come so Ma can stay with Emmeline—my sister.”

“You…really aren’t upset by this? At all?” She asked.

Garreth shook his head and shrugged. “What’s there to be upset about? If anything, I am absolutely ecstatic! I mean, your grandfather is a legendary Potioneer. I’m lucky to breath the same air as him, let alone speak to him personally.”

Rosaline chuckled and shook her head. She knew that Garreth looked up to grandfather, it wasn’t a surprise given the boy’s own passion towards the subject, and, in a way, that made the boy’s idolization of her grandfather less irritating. Most people admired him for his political status, Garreth admired him for his skill and ability. It certainly made their conversations about him more interesting.

“I hope he lives up to the legend.”

Garreth scoffed and stopped in front of the entrance to his next class. “If he’s anything like you, I know he will.”

And here they were again, in one of those moments where Garreth gazed down at her, such longing and affection shining in his eyes, smile wide and soft as he regarded her.

“Well,” Rosaline said, glancing over Garreth’s shoulder to see the room behind him filling with more students. “I suppose this is where I leave you.” She smiled softly.

“Oh, right,” Garreth said, shoulders drooping just a little. “I’ll catch you later, Rosaline!” He recovered quickly and his smile brightened as he turned with a wave.

“Bye,” Rosaline whispered, hand raised in farewell.

[rosalinewintrell]

Why do you tag your works as "x you" if you write about an OC?

I tag things based on what I think people like. I suppose. For myself, I like reader xyou and xreader stories as much as I like xOC or xMC...

I just want ans many interested parties to see my work as possible, and if someone comes across this and isn't interested well...it's easy enough to ignore.

[rosalinewintrell]

Starting Over

Part Fourteen of Opposites are a Perfect Match is here! I really really loved writing this part and I hope you still like me at the end of it.

As always, please enjoy and like, comment, or reblog if you do!

The next morning Rosaline received Sharp’s list of supplies during breakfast, a smart little Tawny owl with remarkably dark coloring swooping over her head and dropping the envelope directly onto her eggs. It was still rather early in the morning, especially for a weekend, so Rosaline was one of very few students sitting in the Great Hall. Professors Weasley and Ronen were sitting together on the raised dais at the front of the room chatting quietly over their own plates.

She chewed slowly, reading through the list as she enjoyed her last few bites of her breakfast. It wasn’t too extensive, but Rosaline was still impressed with its length. It included seeds, ingredients, equipment spellcrafts, and even a few cauldrons of very specific size. A shrinking charm and a little creative packing and she should be able to fit nearly everything in her satchel. The shops would only just be opening at Hogsmeade, and Rosaline thought she had a few moments before she would need to head back to her dorm to change into more presentable clothes before heading out for the day. She was hoping to beat the weekend flood of students that often left the quaint village an absolute mess on Saturdays.

Rosaline took a sip of her tea, something a bit darker than she would usually drink, though there was a citrusy spice in the flavor she found she quite enjoyed. Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed into her cup, quietly soaking in the heat of the sun where it slanted through the windows and over her form.

The early light lighted her with a halo, a bright lighting shining from around her head, the curve of her shoulder and dip of her back. She was wearing a cream kitted sweater over a pale pink collared shirt. Her black skirt was belted around her waist, paired with cream stocking and comfortable ankle boots. She even wore her hair pulled back in slim pink ribbon, most of it falling over her shoulders. She looked lovely sitting in the morning sun, finger loosely gripping her teacup, staring into the distant nowhere.

She was the first thing Garreth saw when he slipped into the Great Hall.

Most people might assume Garreth Weasley, like many of the members of his house, slept in quite late on the weekends, but the farm hours he kept at home had him waking with the dawn almost daily. Most of the time he lounged around the Gryffindor Common Room until late in the day, often catching up on schoolwork, reading up on experimental potion brewing, or even poring over his own notes.

Today he’d wandered out of the Common Room early in hopes of finding the exact girl he was now staring at. It was not unknown that Rosaline was an early riser, having been seen heading out to the Quidditch pitch with Imelda most mornings. Garreth figured the brown-haired Slytherin was trying to help Rosaline with flying, though he didn’t think it always went well. She didn’t seem to notice him as he approached, continuing to stare at some floating spot far in the distance.

“Good morning,” he greeted quietly, resting a hand between her shoulder blades as he settled himself beside her.

If she was surprised by his appearance, she didn’t show it, turning to look at him, tea still held in her hands close to her chest, a sleepy morning smile on her lips. “Good morning, Garreth,” she replied, “I’m surprised to see you here so early.”

Garreth shrugged, reaching forward to scoop a bit of breakfast onto his plate, “I had a reason to be out of the Common Room early today.”

Rosaline blushed and looked away, eyes focusing into the distance once more. “Oh really?”

“Indeed,” Garreth said, take a quick bite of his eggs, an amused smile curling on his lips.

“And what might that be?”

“You, of course,” he replied, cheeky smirk transforming to a grin as Rosaline’s flush deepened and spread up to her ears. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, though a smile of her own appeared. “What?” Garreth asked, a chuckle in his voice, “Too cheesy?”

Rosaline hummed and shook her head, “Maybe a little, but,” Rosaline finally looked at him again, eyes alight with laughter, “that’s okay.”

Garreth returned to his breakfast, the pair sitting on silence, and though it might have been easy, there was an untouched tension between them, unsaid words, and unknown expectations. It didn’t take the boy long to finish his meal, he had grown up with four older siblings, two of them very quick, competitive brothers. He had learned to eat quickly at an early age. He pushed his plate away from him and leaned his arms on the table, turning his head to look at Rosaline, who was swirling the sip of tea left her cup.

“I’d like to take you to Hogsmeade, if you have time today,” Garreth finally said, causing Rosaline to pause and place her cup back onto its matching saucer.

“It’s awfully last minute,” she said, eyebrow raised.

“I know,” Garreth said, “I thought about sending an owl last night, but I remembered that the only windows on the Slytherin Common rooms are underwater, and birds can’t swim, so,” Garreth shrugged, a flush heating his face as Rosaline giggled and shook her head.

“There is a house elf, Torta, who helps deliver mail if it’s necessary. It doesn’t happen especially often,” she explained.

“Really? There always seem to be owls ferrying notes out of Gryffindor Tower.”

Rosaline offered a small shrug and a tight, subdued smile, “Must not be many sent to Slytherins, I guess.”

Garreth’s smile fell from his face, a heavy breath released through his nose. “I’m an idiot.”

“No,” Rosaline said quickly, “No you’re not. How were you supposed to know?” She tried to offer her companion a light smile, but it didn’t seem to help. He looked at his hands in his lap, shoulders slumped.

“I’ve been an awful friend to you.” He whispered.

“What? No!” Rosaline stuttered, turning in her seat to face him fully and leaning towards him. “You’ve been a fine friend. A wonderful friend, in fact.”

Garreth scoffed and shook his head, “How could I be a fine friend and let Leander do as he does? Let him slander you and your friends.” Garreth paused to take a small quick breath, “How could I believe it?”

Rosaline dropped her hand, a bit stricken by the thin cadence of his voice. It was quiet and not just in volume; the full, robust depth that distinguished Garreth’s voice among the rest, the light bouncing rhythm of his words had vanished. Rosaline wasn’t sure that she would know it was Garreth speaking if she wasn’t watching him. It was this sound that dropped sorrow deep in her chest, weight crushing behind her lungs more than his furrowed brow and drooped, glossy eyes.

Part of her sadness settled deeper as she sat, unable to comfort him because she hadn’t believed it herself. That Halloween night she had retreated to the Slytherin dormitories and sank in a large chair next to a window looking out into the lake. For hours she pondered every moment she had spent with the boy. Combing every word and gesture and breath in search of something that might have suggested she was untrustworthy, that might have caused doubt, that would validate Garreth’s stubborn belief in the things Leander said about other people; about Ominis, about her. She wasn’t an idiot; Leander wouldn’t have been forgiving in his description of their encounter. She was sure he had warped things to make her look exactly the way he saw her; a Slytherin pureblood, a villain in his perfectly crafted inner monologue.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, rubbing her hands under her eyes, wiping away evidence of unexpected tears with a loud sniffle.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Sebastian startled her, his voice playful in its concern, if a bit hesitant. They were fine friends, but they didn’t often spend much time together without Ominis, and never in such serious moments.

“Sebastian!” Rosaline sniffles one last time before turning to face him. “What- what are you doing here?”

“Ah, party wasn’t that great.” He answered, hand scratching the back of his head, “The punch wasn’t even spiked.”

Rosaline nodded, staring at the floor right in front of his shoes.

“Someone giving you a hard time?”

Now Rosaline laughed, the sound harsh and a bit wet in her throat. She could feel the brotherly protection inching into his tone. “No, no. I’m…just being stupid.” Rosaline shook her head and turned away, sinking back into her chair, gazing at her distorted visage in the dark glass. It isn’t long before Sebastian settles into the next chair with a soft breath.

“Is it Garreth?” He asks quietly.

Rosaline’s head whips around to look at him, a confused and almost panicked look on her face. “Wh-what?”

“Oh stop,” Sebastian said, waving his hand at her, “Ominis and I both know how close you’ve gotten with him. I can’t imagine what he has that we don’t,” Sebastian rolled his eyes then, leaning back in his chair with a huff, “but if you have to be friends with a Gryffindor, he’s probably best choice.”

Rosaline is silent for a while, just watching their reflection in the window, the way it rippled with the movement of the water. “We’re all so dreary, us Slytherins,” she finally said, tilting her head to regard him. “Not one of us is happy. Not really. By the time we turn sixteen we’ve been…fucked in one way or another; by other students, by our families, by each other.” Rosaline shook her head and averted her gaze. The low candlelight across her face revealed wide sad eyes, rimmed red and still wet, white, streaky tear stains over the curve of her cheek. She sniffled again.

“I’d never been around someone so…whole before.” A small smile flashed on her face as she regarded the first few interactions with the Gryffindor. He was so innocently sure of himself, pretenses shattered as soon as the introductions were done. “He was always so light, and happy and good, and I—” Rosaline looked away, burying her face in her knees which were pulled into her chest. She took a few deep breaths, heaving them in through her nose and releasing them from her mouth. She forced the gathering of tears to dry. Finally, she turned to look at Sebastian again, a small smile on her face, eyes cloudy and wet, but bright with truth, “He made me feel so joyous. All the time.” Her smile faltered. “He wasn’t like the rest, or at least he wanted not to be, tried not be…but in the end, he’s just like the rest of them.”

As she spoke, Sebastian felt like his own heart was crumbling in his chest. He had never seen the pureblood girl so stricken, so out of sorts, for any reason. He resonated with her, as she revealed her thoughts, but they were still young, their future still waiting for them, but the hopeless quiet of her voice soaked him completely. “Whose them?”

Rosaline scoffed and jerked her head towards the Common Room exit, a clear indication. “Anyone one who sleeps outside these dorms.”

“What did he do?”

Rosaline shook her head again “He believed Leander.”

“What?” Sebastian spluttered, “About what? That you attacked him?”

“That I attacked him, that Ominis tortures muggles for fun, that he would hurt or kill people based on blood status.” Rosaline rolled her head over and looked at Sebastian, mirthless smirk on her lips. “He believed him, over me.”

Sebastian simply nodded, turning stare out into the dark lake, eyes dark. They sat together in silence late into the night, until the bustling of returning partygoers bid them to return to their beds. The next day, Rosaline tried to apologize to him, embarrassed, asking him to forgive her overreaction. Sebastian just shook his head, a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not an overreaction if it’s how you feel.” He hadn’t convinced her. She was still embarrassed about her behavior for the next few days. It didn’t matter how she felt, what mattered is what happened and what was true, and what was true was that Garreth simply didn’t believe her word of Leander’s, but they were best friends; Garreth had only known her a couple of months.

Could she really blame him? No, she had been out of line with her reaction, and Sebastian wouldn’t convince her otherwise.

Now, Rosaline just smiled, trying to catch his eye. “It’s fine, really,” Garreth loved over at her, shocked expression on his face, though the furrow of his grow and down on his lips were edged with disbelief.

“What?”

Rosaline shrugged and stood, wiping down the front of her skirt. “You’ve known Leander since you were young. I shouldn’t have been so surprised you believed him.” She shrugged. “Now, I need to run to the dorm to grab my coat and change—”

Garreth’s hand caught her wrist, holding her firmly where she stood. It tightened just a bit as she tried to question him. His face was almost distraught, as though he didn’t truly believe she was acting this way, that she had forgiven him, that she didn’t care. “Are you—are you sure?”

Rosaline smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, Garreth, I’m sure. Now let me go change!”

“You don’t need to change,” he replied quickly, still holding her wrist.

“Oh I—really?” Rosaline looked down at her clothes, far from an appropriate walking suit, “Even though we’re going out?”

“Godric’s heart, no” he said, “You’re gorgeous as you are.”

Rosaline’s face flushed a deep pink, the color appearing even at the edge of her ears. “O-okay,” she agreed, “But I still to get my bag. Meet me in the Courtyard?”

Garreth nodded and let her go, watching as she jogged away. He had brought his own jacket with him, a thin wool coat with a contrasting collar. “Hey Weasley,” A voice called as Garreth stood. The Gryffindor looked towards the door, seeing Sebastian waving him over. He followed Sebastian into the small hallway outside the Great Hall who allowed the doors to shut loudly before whipping around and corning Garreth against one of the walls, his forearm pressed hard into his collarbone.

“Ow! Sebastian what the hell—”

“What the fuck are you doing?” the Slytherin spat, brown eyes flaming as they locked with Garreth’s wide stare.

“What are you on about, Sallow?”

“I’m on about Rosaline you stupid git.” The Slytherin continued, voice just as venomous upon Garreth’s confusion. “I don’t know what you said to her on Halloween but if I ever find her in such a state again, I will ruin you.”

Garreth seemed to deflate, all fight draining from his muscles, accepting the hard weight of Sebastian’s arm against his chest. “What was she like?”

Sebastian stilled for a moment and then stepped back. Folding his arms as he regarded the Gryffindor, who was rubbing at his chest. “Like she’d just gone five rounds with a Dementor—or a Boggart I guess—like all her greatest fears had all come true, all at once. Like she had no more joy.”

Garreth didn’t say a word, only nodded, his eyes firmly on his feet. Sebastian finally sighed and clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“You better fix it. You’re the only Gryffindor good enough for her.”

Garreth huffed and shook his head, though he flashed a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

***

Rosaline was waiting for him by the Bell Tower doors. She hadn’t changed, but she was holding what looked like a beige knitted cardigan over her arm. She was looking down at her shoes while she waited, but as he approached, she looked up, dark irises meeting his and twinkling with her smile.  

“Are you ready?” he asked, opening the door. Rosaline nodded and took his arm when he offered it. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as they walked over the bridge towards Hogsmeade. The weight of Rosaline’s hand on his arm was the same, as was her light lilac and vanilla perfume. The weather was cooler, and the leaves were falling steadily from the trees now. It would likely start snowing in a few weeks. He couldn’t believe how quickly Christmas was coming. Had it really been two and a half months since he met the girl walking next to him?

Rosaline seemed content to walk with his in silence, eyes roaming over the red and yellow leaves as they fell to the ground. A light breeze hastened their descent. Rosaline shivered and then chuckled, letting go of Garreth’s arm so she could slip her cardigan on. There were small pink roses embroidered into the sleeves, pink petals bright against the green stems and leaves. The yarn was soft and warm where it sat against his skin once she had lopped her arm through his again. He’d rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, the brightening morning sun proving to be a bit warm.

The couple spent a wonderful few hours together in Hogsmeade. Rosaline stopped in a couple of shops, purchasing what she needed using Professor Sharp’s list. Garreth helped her pick out a couple of small cauldrons from Cerridwen’s and handed her ingredients when they were perched on high shelves. They popped into The Three Broomsticks around noon and shared a small plate of fried sweet potatoes for lunch.

Rosaline followed Garreth as he walked her through Zonko’s Joke Shop. His own delight at the silly toys and prank paraphernalia was infectious, and she found herself chuckling along as he told her about a few of the larger pranks he had participated in since starting school. Her personal favorite was learning that he had tossed a potion of unknown effect into the Wyvern bush in the Greenhouse garden. The potion had somehow given the shaped hedge sentience and it proceeded to chase students out away from the gardens for three days before returning to normal.

“I haven’t thought of a practical use for that one yet,” he said at the end of the story while Rosaline laughed.

“Ah, do you mind of we stop in here?” Rosaline asked as they walked by Gladrags Wizardwear. “I noticed my gloves are getting a bit thin.”

“Of course,” Garreth said, opening the door for her. While Rosaline walked towards the counter, inquiring about their selection of gloves, Garreth walked around, finding himself stepping into the metal-and-glass-works shop connected to the boutique. His eyes glanced over the small trinkets and telescopes that lined the walls, they lingered on a display of jewelry behind the counter. Laid on a small velvet pillow, one of a collection, was a small gold-chained flower pendant. Pearlescent pink petals lined with gold spiraled out of a gold beaded center.

“Ah, my wife actually makes those.” The man sitting at a workstation in the corner said before standing and retrieving the pillow so Garreth could see them up close. The boy carefully picked up the necklace, running his thumb over the enamel petals.

“Their beautiful,” he said.

***

Garreth stepped up beside Rosaline as she finished her conversation with the proprietor of Gladrags; a fashionable middle-aged man with penchant to gossip idly with all of his customers. “Find what you needed?” he asked, placing a hand just under her shoulder blades, a bright smile on his face.

Rosaline raised a small bag she was holding with a small smile and a nod. The duo bid goodbye to the man still chatting behind the counter and hurried out the door. They chuckled as they left the store, Rosaline’s arm folded around his as though it was meant to rest there.

They made one final stop at Honeyduke’s.                    

It was nearing teatime, and they both agreed they could share a snack before heading back to the castle. Garreth purchased their snacks, two small slices of a cherry tomato quiche and two berry tartlets to share between them. They also opted to try a Bertie-Botts inspired tea.

“Only the good flavours,” The store clerk promised.

Garreth found them a bench under one of the ever-blooming cherry trees that dotted the gardens around the village. They sat with two cups of tea and their box of treats between them. The food was delicious as usual and the tea…well the tea was alright. Rosaline disliked it outright but Garreth was sure he could improve on it.

It wasn’t long before the two found themselves walking back towards the school, having disposed of their rubbish in one of the many waste bins along the path. The were still high up on the hill, able to see the black lack spread out into the Horizon, the school rising high into the orange-tinged sky. Their daylight was starting to fade. Garreth slowed to a stop, grabbing Rosaline’s wrist.

She turned towards him, face and nose flushed pink from the light breeze and cool air. Garreth had even pulled his light coat on. Her dark eyes were wide, orange sunlight sparking in their depths. He pulled her closer, a hand coming to rest on the side of her neck, thumb stroking along her jaw. The other circled her waist, palm firm against her lower back. He watched her face for a moment, saw her dark eyes flick between his own. Their misty breaths mingled in the air between them.

“I want you, Rosaline.” He finally said, a small, closed lip smile on his face. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything before, and when I kissed you yesterday and when I asked you here this morning, I intended to ask you to be mine.”

Garreth closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. He felt her breath brush his lips and cheek, and he had to resist his urge to press closer, to kiss her once more. Garreth almost expected her to question him during the silence, but she remained quiet, allowing him to gather his thoughts, as patient as ever.

“But I haven’t even been a friend to you.” He whispered, the words bouncing off her parted lips, “How could I ask for more?”

Now Rosaline took a breath, obviously ready to defend him, but he hushed her, his thumb coming to rest over her lips before she could open her mouth. He pulled away just enough to look at her once more.

“You may have been my friend, but I have not been yours.” He said staring into her flickering eyes. “I don’t deserve more. Not right now.” There was a moment of silence as Garreth moved his hands, cupping both sides of her jaw now, tilting her head so he could look down at her fully. “But I swear on Godric Gryffindor’s grave that I will earn the right to love you.” Garreth’s thumbs barely grazed the underside of her bottom lip. “I swear on Godric Gryffindor’s grave that I will kiss you again, Rosaline Sophia Alexandra Wintrell. I swear it.”

Rosaline remained silent, only reaching up to grasp Garreth’s forearms, stroking her own thumbs over the thin will of his coat. She could feel his warmth through it still. His eyes were dark with fierce determination, a shocking switch from the light, teasing softness they usually held. The witch sighed and nodded, just the barest tip of her chin so that she could continue to watch him.

***

Garreth escorted Rosaline back to campus and all the way to the Slytherin common rooms. They chatted lightly, nothing more serious than the next week’s classes as a topic. Garreth even remarked that he hoped they offered something pumpkin flavored for dessert at that evening’s dinner service. Given the time of year, it was nearly certain.

When they reached the dungeons, Rosaline removed her arm, but before she could walk away, Garreth stopped her. He retrieved a white velvet bag from his coat pocket and held it out to her. “I thought this might suit you,” he explained. “I had to buy it. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“Not at all,” Rosaline said with a small smile and taking the small pouch. “Thank you.”

Garreth bid her a quick, but friendly goodbye before leaving, jogging up the dungeon stairs.

***

It was past dinner before Rosaline was able to open the small bag. She was sitting on her bed, brushing through her hair after her bath. She was starting to get cold, but as she was reaching for her cardigan, her eye caught the bag’s shiny ribbon drawstrings.

She tipped the pendant into her hand, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the shiny metal caught her dorm’s low candlelight. A soft smile curved Rosaline’s lips and she clasped the pendant around her neck. The flower laid right between her collarbones, the gold chain winking. Rosaline ran a finger over the petals.

“Is that new?” Imelda asked, having entered the room. Rosaline just hummed, turning toward her roommate. “We’ll com’on Sebastian and Ominis are playing chess in the common room. Things are starting to get interesting!”

Rosaline chuckled, but grabbed her cardigan, throwing it on as she followed Imelda. She could hear Sebastian cursing already.

[rosalinewintrell]

When your silly little job is getting in the way of you writing much more important fanfic

[rosalinewintrell]

The Room of Requirement

Hey Everyone! Sorry for the late upload yesterday got a bit out of hand and I just didn't have time to do uploads. I will make it up to you by having a cute little one shot for you on Weasley Wednesday!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and if you too please feel free to give a like, comment or reblog! <3

Rosaline followed Professor Sharp silently as they walked through the corridors between the Potions classroom and the Astronomy Tower. He hadn’t said anything regarding the position he had found her in, but the silence left her thinking about it on loop. She could still feel the heat from Garreth’s body, the tickle of his breath on her cheek, the scrape of calloused fingers on her jaw. Her cheeks were consistently warm, the blush that had risen on her face spurred with each remembrance.

Professor Sharp slowed to halt in front of the spiraling staircase that led up to the astronomy tower, a reserved sigh slipping through his nose.

“Respectfully, sir,” Rosaline said, “But will you be alright?”

Professor Sharp hummed and started up the stairs, a wood-grain cane with a gold handle appearing in his hand. “I assure you; I have perfected my medley of pain potions over the years, and while I don’t enjoy the overabundance of stairs in this bloody school, I am more than capable of walking up them.”

“Right, forgive me, sir.”

Professor Sharp glanced down at the girl, her head was bowed, and her hands clasped in front of her. She was sharply dressed as ever, her Slytherin uniform immaculate, each seam pressed, shoes recently shined. He sighed again and reached to pinch the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know why he thought taking the young witch under his wing was a good idea. He was jaded, cynical despite his age, he had no idea why he thought he could be helpful to her. Finally, as they stepped onto a large landing between the third and fourth floors, Professor bid Rosaline to wait a moment and sat in one of the two arms chairs pushed under the arching stairway overhead.

“Sit,” He bid her, waving a hand towards the other chair, waiting until she was settled to continue. “I think it’s important we have a small discussion before meeting Professor Weasley.”

Rosaline’s eyes widened and her stomach clenched, a bit of panic fluttering in her chest, “We’re meeting Professor Weasley?”

“Bloody hell,” Professor Sharp cursed, slouching defeatedly into the back of his chair. “Perhaps that I should start by saying that no one is upset with you.”

Rosaline finally met his eye, her own narrowed, a bit of suspicion sitting in them. “Sir?”

“Professors are supposed to remain impartial in their students’ personal issues, but I don’t know a single one who doesn’t think Mr. Prewett didn’t deserve a bit of a thrashing. He’s particularly irritating, even for a Gryffindor, and he’s been known to be increasingly cruel towards Slytherin students especially. If anything, you’ve done your house and incredible service, putting him in his place.” Professor Sharp rubbed his jaw, a small smile on his lips as a reassurance of his own acceptance of her actions. “But because we must at least appear to remain impartial, Mr. Prewett and yourself are required to face some sort of punishment. Mr. Prewett has been left in the care of Professor Ronen, of course.”

Rosaline stifled a giggle, the knowledge that Leander would be taking detention with the head of Slytherin House allowing a moment for giddy reprieve from her rising anxiety. It was snuffed however, as she began to ruminate on the information Professor Sharp was sharing. “So, why was I placed with you for detention?” she finally asked, admitting to herself she didn’t know enough to fully understand her Professor’s point.

“I volunteered.” He stated simply, watching Rosaline absorb the information. She remained motionless; hands perched prettily on her knees. Ever the picture of poise, though he could see her growing concern rubbing away at her indifference.

“If you volunteered why get Professor Weasley involved?”

Now Professor Sharp leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, dark, keen eyes watching her. “We’ve worked rather closely this term, Miss Wintrell, so I feel we can be honest with each other. You are an innately talented witch, keen beyond your years, capable even regarding the tiniest of magical nuance. You work hard, much too hard for a pampered pureblood princess who spent her first four years of magical education rubbing elbows with the elite at Beauxbatons. Isn’t that right?” Professor Sharp looked at her knowingly, and Rosaline suddenly felt irritated, not only because her Professor presumed to know these things, but because he was correct.

Rosaline might have attended Beauxbatons, but she spent most of her time in classes and extracurricular electives, attending lectures on current events to try and follow her father’s work, reading about the Auror Training Program, and appraising her family of her studies while groups of Beauxbaton’s students were relaxing around the grounds or flying Abraxon through the mountains, making strong social connections. There was a reason she wasn’t very well-liked and why moving schools had been easy for her.

Professor Sharp didn’t need her verbal agreement, the seething fire banking in her black eyes a sign his suspicions were correct. “I know what it is like to be the center of immeasurable expectations, Rosaline,” he said, voice soft in a way she never could have expected. “I know what it is like to fear failure, to fear disappointing my friends and family. It is destructive.” The Professor’s cursed leg shifted as he spoke, and though Rosaline resisted the urge to glance at it, she still wondered how much of this was all connected to his accident.

“We are meeting Professor Weasley because you need a space to yourself, where you can exercise your ability without those worries. A place you can fail peacefully, without the fear of other’s seeing it. She happens to know of such a place and will be helping us access it tonight.”

“So, you discussed all this with her?” Rosaline really didn’t want to sound ungrateful, the opportunity to work and practice in a place she wouldn’t feel watched felt Merlin-sent, but the idea that the deputy headmistress knew about her outburst in his classroom on top of her scuffle with Leander made her feel nauseous.

“No,” Professor Sharp replied coolly, “I simply suggested you might benefit from a place you could…spread you wings, so to speak, and she agreed. Even she acknowledges your potential.”

Rosaline examined Professor Sharp, lips still pursed, though most of her irritation had drained. “And it’ll be mine? No one else will use it?”

Professor Sharp nodded, “For the most part. I may move some of our more ambitious lessons there as well, but it would be yours to do with as you wish. Within reason, of course.”

“Of course.” Rosaline agreed.

“Good,” the professor said, “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.” he replied, using his cane to help him stand. “Shall we?”

Rosaline followed the potions master up to the seventh-floor hall where they found Professor Weasley examining a tapestry featuring a rather barmy wizard and a collection of tutu-clad trolls. She turned to look at them as the tapping of Professor Sharp’s cane alerted her to their arrival.

“Ah, there you are!” she called, a warm smile on her face.

“Apologies, Matilda,” Professor Sharp replied, “I am afraid I needed to take a few moments on the way up.”

“No harm done,” Professor Weasley assured I understand the location is inconvenient for you.” Then, the deputy headmistress turned to Rosaline, warm smile still in place, “Now, let’s get things rolling, shall we? The sooner we begin the sooner we shall finish. Now, come along.”

The professor bid Rosaline to think of what she needed, a space where she could work without interruption, while pacing in front of the wall. As she walked up and down the hall, watched by her professors, Rosaline tried to imagine it, but it wasn’t until she heard Professor Sharp engage his colleague in conversation that she was able to manifest a grand series of rooms with high ceilings and plenty of open space, a place she could work, study, or relax as needed. An odd tremor in the floor stopped Rosaline’s walking, and as her Professors began to approach, she watched a wood and iron gilded door appear out of the stonework.

“Ah, well done!” Professor Weasley said and motioned for Rosaline to open the new passageway. A small bookshelf-lined wall opened up into a wide two-story atrium with white marbled floors and walls, a high ceiling lined with windows that allowed bright golden sunlight to flood the room, to the left, there appeared to be another hall. The room was perfect, though completely bare and the group’s steps echoed loudly through the space.

“This is the Room of Requirement,” Professor Weasley said, “It appears before students in great need, transforming into anything the user requires. I discovered it as a student, and with Professor Sharp’s recommendation, am offering it to you so you have a place to work on your extra assignments.”

The deputy headmistress delved into a swift lesson regarding conjuration and transfiguration so Rosaline could fill the space with the necessary equipment to study and experiment. The older witch was quite surprised when Rosaline showed fair use of the more advanced magic, though happy to see her fellow professor’s high praise of the girl was not exaggeration, not that Professor Sharp was known for exaggeration in the first place.

When Professor Weasley left, certain Rosaline would be able to make great use the Room, Professor Sharp turned to his charge, who was looking over the atrium with interest. “I expect you to make a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend to pick up some supplies. A Potions Station and Planting Table for certain, as well as some common seeds and ingredients you should always have on hand. I will send a list in the morning.” Then he pulled a small burlap pouch out of his pocket, the Hogwarts insignia emblazoned on the front. “The school has provided some extra funds to help with cost.”

“I may not be a pampered pureblood princess, sir, but I can pay for supplies,” Rosaline argued.

Professor Sharp sighed, “Please just take it. Matilda insisted and she’ll be irritated with me if I return it. You’d be doing me a favor.”

Rosaline agreed then, taking the pouch, and twirling the drawstring through her fingers. Professor Sharp instructed that their extra lesson for the week, another try brewing the Invisus Elixir, would take place the next Friday in the Room, and she needed to have her equipment ready by then.

“Also, should you ever require anything, a house elf by the name of Dossy has volunteered to help. Simply summon her if you have need.” Professor Sharp turned back to the door and left then, the echo of the door closing behind him loud in the empty space.

Rosaline was soon to follow, slowly making her way from the highest point in the tower to the lowest. The Slytherin Common Room was actually quite full, but she was quick to spot Ominis and Sebastian sat together by the large arching windows, an empty loveseat waiting for her. Her footsteps were silent against the din and chatter of the room, and still Ominis turned his gaze towards her as she approached them.

“Ah, the Slytherin Champion returns!” Sebastian cried, smile wide and teasing.

“That was a rather short detention,” Ominis noted.

“Have I ever said Sharp is my favorite Professor?” Rosaline asked as she sat, stretching her legs over the small couch.

“Well now we know you really are a psycho,” Sebastian responded, disgusted expression on his face.

“No, I don’t think you have,” Ominis said, scoffing at Sebastian’s antics, “But I demand to know everything.”

[rosalinewintrell]

Garreth Weasley relaxing in the sunshine. He likes having his hair stroked 🖤

Based on this little fluff fic, Strands of copper

Commissioned from @cresmoons

[rosalinewintrell]

I REFUSE to believe that Ominis dies young. Absolutely not.

We all know what Harry Potter canon says, but I am ruling it as stupid.

Ominis gets disowned by his family finally in 1927, that's why by the time Tom Riddle is born Marvolo is the only living Gaunt.

He lives a long and happy life down the street from Sebastian.

So it is said, so it shall be.

[rosalinewintrell]

Oh oh! Shout out to EmLexGaunt from Wattpad (I don't know your Tumblr name)!! Thank you for coming and supporting me here too!

[rosalinewintrell]

I Know You

Hey All and Happy Monday! Here is Part Twelve of Opposites are a Perfect Match. I know I labelled this as the Room of Requirement Chaper but it got to long so it's not... but I think you'll be happy with the goings-on of Rosaline, her friends, and her frenemy (?) Garreth.

Enjoy! And please like, comment, or reblog if you do!

Ominis wrote every day he was gone for a full week, attending only those family rituals necessary to remain polite. He was near invisible in the family manor, his blindness rendering him unworthy of a thought to even throw away. That didn’t stop Marvolo from being a right git though. He didn’t seem up for confronting Ominis physically this visit, but he hadn’t such qualms over tormenting his brother in other ways.

“I’ve taken to locking my wand in my trunk.” he wrote the third day. “Marvolo may find endless amusement watching me bumble around the house, but even I am not worth the effort. Anything to avoid his attention.”

“I’m sorry, Rosaline, but I will need you to take me clothes shopping again. Marvolo has decided to use my shirts for… blood rags. He dumped them on the first version of this letter. I had to scrub my desk for hours before I got the smell out.”

“It’s a good thing I left Victoria in your care. Marvolo’s newest acquisition (a cobra of all things) is rather vicious. I wouldn’t put it past Marvolo to have used her for food if she were here.” 

Rosaline had tried to keep her confrontation with Leander a secret from him, until he was back and they could speak properly at least, but Sebastian must have mentioned it in his own letters, and Ominis’ resulting response was at least as scathing as a Howler. She was glad he hadn’t enchanted it to be, he had the ability and cause to, but he knew about her aversion to such scenes and spared her the anxiety inducing horror.

She was certain to be in for an earful once they were tucked safely in the undercroft, though.

Rosaline truly was a verse to large displays in front of crowds. She often attended parties with her parents when she was young, and her mother had an unfortunate habit of putting her young daughter in the spotlight without much warning. Many times, she was forced to perform impromptu piano concerts, sing along with the hired quartet, demonstrate the week’s newest dance.

Her mother was not a bad person. She was a broken person. Meredith Adelaine Fortuna Ropusé Wintrell was exceedingly proud of her daughter, a fact she shared with any ear that would listen. She wanted the whole of Britain to be just as proud, care just as much, but her own childhood, one much darker, one full of different, deeper traumas had left her twisted.

She thought she was encouraging her daughter, the same way her own mother encouraged her.

It took mother and daughter years and many public panic attacks and anxiety breakdowns to understand each other that way. However, the healing of that rift couldn’t undo years of trauma and explosive reactions to anxiety and Rosaline found herself responding to stress with anger and a hair-trigger defense response.

In the last two months she lost control in public twice. She was sure Ominis thought that punishment enough.

***

She was happy when Ominis did return, arriving alone to pick him up from Hogsmeade Station. His train arrived just after lunch, and while Rosaline had a free period, Sebastian had divination and couldn’t make it. The platform was empty except the two of them and they embraced each other, hard and long, heads bent together. They walked in silence all the way back to the school, hands clasped, and retreated directly to the Undercroft after Ominis stored his trunk and returned Violet’s vivarium to his dorm.

“You have some explaining to do,” Ominis said as they stepped into the wide stone room. Rosaline had forced the boys to conjure a fireplace and a few chairs in the cavernous space, and as they entered a fire roared to life and the two sat close together.

“So do you,” Rosaline responded.

“What- what could I possibly have to explain? I’m not the one running around threatening to hex people!”

“Maybe not,” Rosaline said, studying her nails, “But you are the one running around with a new little Hufflepuff friend without telling me.”

“Wh-what does that have to do with anything?” Ominis was obviously becoming annoyed with her. He enjoyed cyclical banter but not when the conversation involved his friend threatening other students.

Rosaline shrugged she had always refused to drop her body’s natural reaction just because Ominis was blind. It was one of the reasons he liked her, Sebastian, and Anne so much. They simply didn’t over analyze their actions around him. “She was there.”

“She was there?” Ominis’ face had softened, and though his brows were still furrowed, his annoyed expression had grown confused. 

“Mhm.” Rosaline mused, watching him closely. “She stood up for you before even I could.”

“Oh,” he whispered, a little pink flush dusting his cheeks, lips relaxing into an almost smile.

“I’m surprised Sebastian didn’t mention it.”

Ominis shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “He was too ecstatic about Prewett nearly pissing himself in front of half the school. And angry about the way he attacked you with your back turned.”

“He didn’t even get a chance to do anything.” Rosaline reasoned.

“It doesn’t matter.” Ominis argued, “He would have struck you while defenseless. It’s a cowardly thing to do.”

“Well,” Rosaline tried to argue her case, but Ominis had begun and was not keen on stopping until Rosaline heard him.

“You shouldn’t have been in that position anyway!” Ominis was becoming irritated again, wildly fluctuating emotions his response to his own familial issues. “Next time someone says something stupid you’d do well to ignore it.”

“That’s rubbish and you know it.”

Ominis scoffed and folded his arms over his chest, glaring at her, “How is my irritation and concern rubbish?”

“That’s not what I’m saying Ominis.”

“I know!” Ominis shook his head. His hair was now hanging across his forehead the way it did when they were young, and the sight made Rosaline smile despite their argument, “It doesn’t change anything though.”

“You would have done the same if you were in my position, Ominis. Don’t be a hypocrite.” She reached out to smooth his hair back for him, but a few strands still managed to escape what was left of the pomade Ominis used.

Ominis sighed, “I know. But I have done sick things the muggles before. I used an unforgivable on one.” Rosaline cupped his cheek and he leaned into it. “I am just as bad as they are.”

Rosaline clicked her tongue at her friend, “You know how I feel about that.”

“Sorry.”

The clicking of the undercroft gate echoed in the cavernous space and Sebastian quickly stepped in. His steps thudded on the stone floors as he hurried deeper in to see his newly returned friend. “Ominis, Rosaline?” he called.

“Back here!” Ominis replied. He offered Rosaline one more heavy glance before pulling away and leaning against the wingback chair casually.

“Everything okay here?” Sebastian asked as he approached, eyeing the way Rosaline was sat forward and the lightly irritated furrow of her brow. `

“Of course,” Ominis said with a wave of his hand. “Just discussing Rosaline’s poor behavior towards Prewett.”

“You should have seen it, Ominis!” Sebastian said just as chuffed about the whole thing as ever, wide eyes and excited grin. “He was positively petrified!”

“So I’ve heard,” Ominis said dryly.

“Man, what a sight. If only he’d pissed himself.”

“Come now, Sebastian, don’t be so vulgar.” Ominis’ face twisted in disgust at the near wistful expression on Sebastian’s face. Eyes alight with the thought of his rival hobbling out of Central Hall, heavy dark stain snaking down the leg of his pants. It induced a cruel sort of satisfaction to spread in his chest.

“Oh, shut up. You think it’s funny too!”

“Just because something is true doesn’t make it not vulgar.”

“Ha! So, you admit it!”

“I have done no such thing!”

“Wow,” Rosaline interrupted, an expression of abashed amusement son her face, “You guys really started right away.”

Sebastian and Ominis looked at her blankly before irritated scowls pulled at their mouths.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Ominis asked, offended by the smallest things now that Sebastian had him worked up.

“Yeah!” Sebastian agreed, just generally irritated.

Rosaline shook her head and rolled her eyes at them. “Never mind,” she stood and dusted off her skirt, “I have detention with Sharp soon, so I’m leaving.” Turning around she grabbed her black and green embroidered blazer and slipped it on before striding out of the Undercroft, the Ominis and Sebastian’s familiar bickering rising behind her.

“Detention?” Ominis cried.

“Yeah! Ridiculous right?” Sebastian scoffed and Ominis growled with frustration.

***

Rosaline hadn’t seen Garreth since their confrontation on Halloween, and though she had been actively avoiding him, it had been a fairly easy thing to do. They didnlt share classes outside potions and they had never sat very close before. She slipped in and out of class with Imelda by her side, the other girl’s intimidating stare and reputation an effective deterrent.

Today however, Garreth caught up with her. She was just turning into the Central Hall, the soothing pining of a lute nearly drowned by the droning buzz of a school day. Rosaline didn’t notice the tap of his shoes on the marble growing louder as he rushed through the crowd towards her, not until his voice rose over the din. He was coming up the stairs against a crowd of students she had been following.

“Rosaline!” His cloak was slung over one of his arms, the other braced against the thick tone railing. He was looking up at her a little, mouth slightly parted, as he breathed heavily. Late afternoon light filtered through the huge windows across the hall, golden light a halo around the mess of curls swept across his head and lit his eyes a near sparkling shade of emerald. His red blazer was unbuttoned, his tie was loose, and the first button of his shirt undone, collar askew.

Rosaline hesitated for a moment, meeting his eyes only briefly before looking away and hurrying her steps as she descended the stairs.

“Rosaline, please,” Garreth whispered as she passed him, his breath on her neck. Heat rose to the tops of her cheeks, but she still didn’t look at him.

“What can I do for you, Garreth?” She replied, voice appropriately polite and even, the tremble in her lungs silenced by a practiced tongue. She saw his face twitch out of the corner of her eye, a thoroughly chastened look crossing his face; her indifference obviously noted.

“Please talk to me,” Garreth pleaded following her down the stairs, hastening his steps to keep up with her as she darted through the crowd.

“I don’t possibly know what we would need to discuss,” She replied coolly.

“You can ignore me Rosaline but don’t dismiss me,” Garreth’s voice had hardened, an irritated edge coating his words. “We’re better friends than that.”

Rosaline scoffed loudly, chest tight and heavy, breaths starting to drag. Her breath was stolen completely as she found herself pulled into the alcove just outside the potions classroom. It was quiet, most potion-related coursework finished for the day. Garreth backed her against the wall, and leaned over her, arms braced where his hands caged her, one on either side of her head. He met her glare with his own, eyes dark and hard where they met hers.

“You can play the cold, aloof witch all you want, Rosaline, but I know you. You care for me, just as I care for you.” Garreth stepped closer to her, hands coming up to cup her cheeks. His fingers spanned the width of them, thumb resting gently by her nose, pinkies curling around her jaw.

“You don’t know anything.” Rosaline hissed, though her heart raced behind her ribs stomach alight with fluttering. His cheeks were red, freckles bright against the flush the spread over his nose, irritation dark in his eyes.

“Try me,” Garreth challenged.

“Fine.” Rosaline agreed.

“I know you like fashion, I know your favorite snack is a berry and crème tart from Honeydukes, I know you love a late-night hot chocolate but only Dossy knows how to make it.” Garreth sighed, a bit of tension melting from him as he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he smelt the honey-light scent of her shampoo. “I know you love potioneering, but that you’d rather be outside in a garden, I know your favorite color is pink, but you will only wear certain shades. I know your favorite animal is the Jackalope, as random as it is. I know you are unendingly patient and kind, I know your hiding some dark, anxious part of yourself from me but I want to know that too.” Garreth pulled away to look down at her eyes, an endless pool of obsidian meeting sparking jade geodes. Her hands rested on his chest as she met his gaze, silent as her mind reeled.

“I know you, Rosaline Sophia Alexandra Wintrell. But Godric’s heart, I want to know more. Please, let me know you.” Garreth whispered against her skin, his breath warm where it brushed the top of her cheek. He continued to gaze at her with soft, dark eyes and pinned by their weight she only nodded, a shaky sigh escaping her lungs.

Garreth closed his eyes and released a sigh of his own as he pressed closer and kissed her, an expression of relief, a soft promise. Her lips were soft, hesitant where they met his. Then she sighed against his mouth and relaxed lightly against him, deepening their relatively chaste kiss.

Garreth pulled away, eyes darting over Rosaline’s face which was pink, eyes shining and dark. He was about to press in for another when someone cleared their throat loudly.

Both students snapped to attention, straightening and turning to face Professor Sharp where he was standing outside his classroom. He regarded them with a raised eyebrow for a moment before speaking. “Miss Wintrell, I believe you have detention—”

“Detention?” Garreth asked, looking down at Rosaline, though she was looking at her feet, hair obscuring his view of her face.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, detention—something you will become familiar with if you do not remove yourself from my presence post haste.” Professor Sharp’s tone had grown irritated and he glar4d down at the boy, usually a sight students found intimidating. Garreth, however, continued to watch Rosaline who shook her head at him.

“It’s fine,” She whispered. Garreth opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by the professor.

“Mr. Weasley,” Professor Sharp warned. Garreth frowned at the Potions Master but nodded.

“I’ll find you later,” He said to Rosaline before leaving with one last glance. Rosaline nodded after him and turned to face her professor to find him locking the door to the potions lab.

“Now, Miss Wintrell if you would follow me. We’ll be headed to the Astronomy Tower for your detention today.” 

[rosalinewintrell]

My usual fictional type 🌑

This mf appearing out of nowhere ☀️