all sorts of hell | rosie and damien
"You two are two of my top students; you will get along with each other, or you will not participate within this club. Should this cause an issue, you will not participate; should I hear of this becoming an issue, you will not. Complaining will get you nowhere and I will not hesitate to remove you from the roster should I hear any complaints regarding your behaviour. Do you understand?"
Damien stands before Professor Zabini, the club’s listing slapped on the board behind him. He makes no move to agree nor protest, though his expression was one of extreme distaste and his eyebrow had risen to a ridiculous height throughout the lecture. It’s somewhat more pointed towards him rather than the elder Gryffindor beside him, considering his anti-social tendencies and attitude.
Zabini sighs and rubs at his forehead. “This will do you both good, as well the others under your tutelage. I’m leaving you two in-charge, don’t make me regret this.” He exits, leaving him and Rosie to do as they will for the club.
Irate beyond belief, Damien does not waste time setting up the cauldron. Rose Weasley and him are to both head the potions club; he rather leave the club than suffer her overbearing mannerisms as joint heads, but he knows that should he, it will end in a shambles under her lone guidance. Not to mention the fact that Grayson would be disappointed in him, as they had both signed up together and the Gryffindor even convinced him to lend his talents for the school’s orchestra.
The meeting has not yet started, as the other members are just now filling in, and Damien glances across to Rose. “What,” He demands, “are you doing.”
She tries her best to keep her face impassive, though inside she's positively boiling. Stood before Professor Zabini, being told she has to share the post of student leader of Potions Club with a fifth year--inconsiderate, intolerable Damien Richards, no less--she's absolutely livid. She bites the inside of her creek to stop herself scowling.
In primary school, all her progress reports had been marked with does not play well with others.
Rose mumbles a dejected yes, sir as Zabini leaves, moving to the ingredients cupboard to pull out what they'll need. Knarll quills, exploding ginger eyelashes, newt spleen, ptolemy, valerian. Making a face at Damien, she sets the bottles and vials on the desk, and shoots him a glare.
"What are you doing? We need a larger cauldron for the laughing draught."
