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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...
"Anthony, you're one of my best friends and all, but please stop being an arse."
Rhea, Anthony, Isobel, Lisa, Padma and Micheal were in Herbology. The second years had to re-pot mandrakes, something that was very hard and dangerous.
"Why d'you look sour?" Anthony asked brightly, "Is it because your pals Harry and Ron drove a car to school?"
Rhea huffed out a laugh. "Of course not. Though, that was dumb of them to do that. Anyway, I'm moody because we've got potions later; I don't think Snape has considered starting the term off on a nice note."
"Don't worry about that," Lisa dismissed. "Worry about the mandrakes; they're like the spawns of Satan himself."
"Who's Satan?" Isobel Macdougal, a pureblood, asked.
"Never mind that," Padma said loudly, gesturing towards Professor Sprout who was handing over earmuffs to everyone. "Can you believe their cries can knock you out? Why are we studying them at SCHOOL?"
"I think you're forgetting that we're at Hogwarts," Micheal said reasonably. "Besides, I have a feeling that the Mandrakes are going to be crucial for us this year."
"Last time he had such a feeling," Anthony remarked lightly, "he told us that the third floor corridor had something dangerous lurking in it. Turns out he was right."
"Yes, because Astrologer Corner knows everything." Lisa said sarcastically.
But they didn't have enough time to talk—Sprout had given them their earmuffs, and before they could put them on, Rhea asked timidly, "Professor? Can we swear if the mandrakes bite us?"
"No," was the Professors reply, and then she herself put on her earmuffs.
When Anthony and Rhea were sure Sprout's earmuffs had covered her ears well, they grinned at each other, plucked the mandrakes from their pots and yelled when the mandrakes lashed out on them. "SON OF A FUC—"
"Rhea! Anthony! Language!"
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Rhea didn't know why there was an ant continuously trying to drown itself in her goblet of pumpkin juice.
Come to think of it, she couldn't remember why what her purpose in this life was, anyway. Maybe the stress overload was to blame.
"Look here, ant, I don't appreciate you dying in my pumpkin juice," Rhea said seriously, taking her goblet to eye level and peering down at the ant. "Maybe you're just thisty? Here—" she put a drop of the juice on the rim of the goblet, but the ant stubbornly crawled down the goblet to drown itself.
