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"Fine! Damn the Timeline and dangers! I'm going to spill the beans-"
"Spill the Dirigible Plums," interjected Luna.
"-spill the Dirigible Plums about Voldemort!" Rhea finished.
***
Rhea Arquette and Luna Lovegood- the Golden Trio's...
Rhea was staring incredulously at Harry, while he cradled his scarred hand. Hermione and Ron looked between them as though it was a tennis match.
"You know I'm right," Harry said in a strained voice, wrapping a handkerchief over his hand. "Doesn't matter if I report it—the teachers have no control over Umbridge."
"Those are blood quills!" Rhea hissed, looking scandalized. "Padma came to the dorm with a bloody hand—"
Harry grimaced, remembering how Padma had defended Harry earlier and had consequentially ended up in detention.
"Is she okay?" Ron asked worriedly.
"She's fine, but shaken." Rhea answered, running a hand through her hair distractedly. Not aware that the back of her hand was exposed.
"What's that?" Harry asked sharply, yanking Rhea's hand and turning it over to look at the faint scars. He felt a wave of nausea, knowing that their connection was to blame for this. "Melrin, I'm so sor—"
"Don't be," Rhea waved him off, "Worry about the kids, though," she said, nodding towards a certain first year who was crying silently, touching her sore hand which was red from the scars.
"She's evil," Hermione said in a hollow voice. "Pure ev—"
"We know." Ron said weakly. "But we can't do anything about it."
And Hermione brightened, as though she had just had a stroke of inspiration.
Rhea glanced at her wearily. "You've got the 'I'm planning something' look on your face. And I'm not sure if I like it."
Hermione tutted at her, but leaned forward to close the gap between the quartet. "I have just the plan to thwart Umbridge's system."
"And here goes our fifth year of risking expulsion." Ron said resignedly.
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"About time," Minerva McGonagall's sharp voice brought them to their senses as the Marauders, Lily, Rhea, Marlene and Mary stepped into her class. "Any later and it would have been detention."
"Good morning, Minnie," Sirius winked at her, and James bowed respectfully. "How are you on the lovely day, Minnie?"
McGonagall's nostrils flared, but she said nothing. Any comment from her side would only encourage the unnaturally rogue beasts. Their policy was amusing in the least: keep the shenanigans to the bare minimum and face no consequences.
