Young rivalry PV Pre-hogwarts Finished?

Leonard did not want to be here.
He did not want to be in the sun, playing with children who ate sand and thought learning the alphabet meant they were geniuses. He had plans, and in order to carry out those plans, he needed to have his time to do the plans, and plan even more. His life was plans, mostly. Plans to take over the world (possible), plans to be a world famous painter (slightly more possible), plans to have the best life he could.
He did not plan on being here.
Leonard was not a sociable creature, not by any means. He was more of an anti-socialite, who took joy in being alone in dark rooms and pushing away other people.
And so, he did it. Not exactly pushing, but making sure that should he go near them, they’d push him away.
Why did he want enemies? He hadn’t any idea, he’d admit.
In his defence, she was reading the book he’d left there. Sat next to the bushes. Alone.
It was perfect material.
“Hey. Why’ve you got my book?”
His tone was perfected, his snarl would make the fiercest of police dogs whimper, and everything was according to plan.

“Hey. Why’ve you got my book?”

Althea's mind groaned in the face of a soon-to-be argument. She disliked having to argue over an abandoned book, especially with a boy that says things which screams 'trouble'. She peered up at the boy that spoke, squinting because of the blinding sunlight, seeing that he was looking down at her with a smug look on his face. The boy had chocolate brown hair that was similar to her own and matching brown eyes, the typical appearance you would see in crowds. The only thing that Althea found peculiar about him was his approach. A snarl that made her want to fling the book back at the boy in panic. She didn't want to have a brawl with a random kid in the playground, she would never hear the end of it from her mother. So, she decided to take a calmer approach to this matter.

"You left the book in the dirt, so I assumed it was no one's," Althea mumbled, closing the book and putting it out in the air for the boy to take, "My bad." She continued to stare up at the other, continuing to speak, "What's your name, book-boy?"

”You left the book in the dirt, so I assumed it was no one’s. My bad. What’s your name, book-boy?”

“Leonard to you, thief,” he said, snatching the book with enough force to make it seem he was trouble. After all, he was trouble. Touch anything of his without permission, and you’d might as well have unleashed a dementor.
She didn’t seem shaken, a surprise to him. Most children would’ve ran to their mummies. Though, when Leonard looked around, there was no daddy to tell the mean boy off to, or mummy to sob about the scary child she’d met in the playground. If he couldn’t be trouble, he’d at least like her to get in trouble. Again, why he wanted to make enemies was a reason unknown to him. A challenge, perhaps. Something that he couldn’t plan for, but would end up perfecting the art of anyways. That would be fun.
(Leonard had a different definition of fun than most six-year-olds did, or indeed, most eleven-year-olds did.)
“You thought nobody owned this book?” He continued, opting for a furious expression. From his own experience, furious elicited fun reactions from others, such as wetting one’s own pants. “This is a playground, not a library. Keep to your own toys.”
(What fun.)

“Leonard to you, thief,” The boy said, snatching the book forcefully out of her hand. Althea felt irritation ripple through her, retracting her hand in response of his rough action. She was now most definitely sure that Leonard was trouble, and she knew she had to resolve this quickly. The chances of a brawl happening seemed high, but she did not want to be in one because of some dumb book.

"Althea Valeden," Althea murmured as she got up. She stared at the boy for a moment before continuing her words of defense. "I don't see your name on this, Leonard, so it's no one's." She finished with a pout.

Leonard seemed surprised just now, and Althea guessed why. She might seem like an easy target, but she was not one to whine or cry like most of the other children. She grew up with her demanding, control-freak of a mother, so she had no intention to run to her crying. In fact, she was taught to solve her own issues unless it involved money. So, here she was, 'solving' this soon-to-be mess.

“You thought nobody owned this book?” Leonard continued, opting for a furious expression. Althea nodded, taking a cautious step back in response of the frightening expression. She wished she hadn't provoked him. “This is a playground, not a library. Keep to your own toys,” The boy finished, clearly not backing down. So, Althea decided the only way to finish this was to do the same.

"Why bring a book out then. This is a playground like you said," Althea challenged with a nervous smile, "No?"

”Why bring a book out then? This is a playground, like you said,” sneaky, sneaky. “No?”
That was unexpected, to say the least.
This was making out to be simultaneously less and more fun by the second. It was like an injection, Leonard supposed. The way it was confusing as to why it was happening, and the way it might be worth it in the end. No matter, this would be valuable information. That some kids who looked like sitting ducks were not, in fact, sitting ducks. Surprising, indeed.
Why was this so hard? Usually they’d be running to the other corner of the playground, if not having some sort of guardian to run to. Maybe she was like him, in a way. The way they both wouldn’t back down. The way they could defend themselves. Leonard could respect that. But from this interaction, that seemed to be the only quality he could respect.
“Well, Althea,” he needed more reaction than a step back and a nervous smile. It was almost frustrating, how calm she was. But there was no need to get upset; a mind such as his loved a challenge. “Some kids, like me, assume that when they leave their books, they won’t get stolen. So they don’t put labels on the books. And some kids, like me, like different types of play. Anyways, you can’t judge me. You’re the one who’s sitting alone in the bushes. At least I don’t look pathetic when I read.”

“Well, Althea,” Leonard began once more. Althea hummed, showing that she was listening. She wanted to end this quickly, but it seemed like the other boy had other plans. Although she was more than glad to finish this argument by themselves, she was running against the clock at the moment. The second her mother sees her causing trouble, she was in hot soup.

“Some kids, like me, assume that when they leave their books, they won’t get stolen. So they don’t put labels on the books. And some kids, like me, like different types of play. Anyways, you can’t judge me. You’re the one who’s sitting alone in the bushes. At least I don’t look pathetic when I read," Leonard said, causing a light pink blush to burn her cheeks. She should have been offended by those words, but the boy speaks truth. She does look rather pathetic, and she should have chosen to sit on a bench instead of sitting beside a bunch of bushes.

"Y-You know, the world isn't all rainbows and kindness, Leonard," Althea retorted, still slightly flustered, "Just so you know, the fresh oxygen that the leaves give out is rather nice. So much better than breathing the same air as kids who eat dirt. Oh wait, do you even know about photosynthesis? "

Althea felt stupid, trying to use random pieces of knowledge in her puny brain to use to justify her strange actions. But, at least her words didn't come out as bad as they seemed in her head.

“Y-you know, the world isn’t all kindness and rainbows, Leonard. Just so you know, the fresh oxygen that the leaves give out is rather nice. So much better than breathing the same air as kids who eat dirt. Oh wait, do you even know about photosynthesis?"
Honestly, Leonard could have laughed at the girl’s words. Yes, he did know about photosynthesis. He paid attention in Science class, like any student who’d like to get to the next year did. No, he had not been aware that other kids ate dirt (honestly, he’d never really required that rather disturbing information). Yes, he knew how plants made oxygen out of carbon dioxide, he’d gotten good marks on that quiz. And yes, he knew the world wasn’t made of rainbows and cupcakes and sugar and kindness. There were several quizzes in History dedicated to that.
“Yeah, Althea, I know the world isn’t all kindness and rainbows,” he mocked her tone, much higher pitched than it was. He returned to his normal voice, saying, “In fact, I’m pretty sure I know it better than half the kids here. I know there’s the colour brown. I know the colour grey exists. I also know that some people don’t respect other people’s things, such as books. Don’t know how I thought of that example.”

“Yeah, Althea, I know the world isn’t all kindness and rainbows,” Leonard spoke in a mocking high tone. Althea puffed out her cheeks, clearly offended by the boy's mockery. "I don't sound like that, dummy," She muttered under her breath.

Althea was home-schooled throughout her five years on this Earth, and she never had to deal with any interactions with others apart from her childhood friend, Alex, before she met Leonard. She didn't know what to do, now that she got herself tangled in this mess. She finally understood why her mother complained when her clients would mock her and jab at her pride.

“In fact, I’m pretty sure I know it better than half the kids here," Leonard continued once again but in his normal tone, "I know there’s the colour brown. I know the colour grey exists. I also know that some people don’t respect other people’s things, such as books. Don’t know how I thought of that example.” Leonard said that probably with the intention to make her feel bad. It definitely did its job of making her feel guilty.

"I thought I apologised, Leonard, and I didn't disrespect your book," Althea shot back with a slightly whiny voice, "And plus, just because you know colours doesn't mean you are smart, you dumbo. I even know periwinkle and silver." She made sure to add the last sentence for extra measure, to make sure that she could challenge the boy, even if it was about colours.

“I thought I apologised, Leonard, and I didn't disrespect your book. And plus, just because you know colours doesn't mean you are smart, you dumbo. I even know periwinkle and silver."
Leonard smiled at her slightly whiny tone. Finally, some results. Though it was slight, it was something. And sure, she’d called him the elephant from that animated film he’d never seen, but that was a ludicrous insult. He put the book in his other hand, and back, again and again, wondering how he could one up her this time.
Honestly, it really wasn’t that difficult at all. Silver wasn’t a very advanced colour.
“Oh, god, periwinkle? I’m so scared,” he said, not even bothering to sound anywhere near scared. “Besides, sometimes apologising isn’t enough. And we seem to have different meanings of disrespect that we’re using. I’m using the correct one, while you’re using the one for nitwits.”
Leonard paused then, thinking of what to say next. This really was fun, being the cause of trouble rather than being pushed around by it.
“Actually, I do agree with one thing you said. That, just because somebody knows colours, it doesn’t mean they’re smart. I mean, you’re living proof of that.”