DOORWAYS || MARAUDERS ERA

ϟ8: DIRIGIBLE PLUMS AND YOU-KNOW-WHOϟ

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Clutching her pillow tightly, lying face down on the familiar bed, Rhea felt a sense of unfamiliarity. Why? Well, the scent of the bed sheets was different, the curtains were ridiculous and the arrangement of the books in the dormitory was different. The Ravenclaw dorm which was so often the epitome of comfort, now simply oozed emptiness. 

It was all too much to handle. They had been so close to destroying the hocruxes, so close to having a slight chance of winning the war, and suddenly, she was catapulted back in time. 

With no way to go back. 

She'd never see Harry, Hermione, Ron, Anthony, Padma and her other friends she'd left behind. Here she was, in a completely foreign timeline, utterly forgotten by her friends. Not only would they have to fight in the war again, but also all their hard work and endless suffering would have been for nothing.

It was all so unfair that Rhea wanted to scream.

She heard the door open, and groaned. She truly didn't want to face Luna; it was Rhea's fault Luna was here. Away from her father and her friends. Only because Rhea was stupid enough to call Luna for help in finding the diadem.

"Luna, I want some quiet. Leave me alone."

The blonde ignored the cranky witch and stepped inside. Her curious silvery blue eyes looked around thoughtfully, sparing a concerned glance at Rhea. Neither was in a state to acknowledge the monumental twist in fate they'd just witnessed. 

"It's different here," Luna commented casually. "It smells like Dirigible Plums," she added in an excited tone.

"The ones your father gro—will grow?" Rhea asked, her voice muffled by the pillows, remembering his sign to keep off the Plums in their garden. The isolation of their run had rendered her quite clueless in keeping track of time, and it seemed like only yesterday that Rhea, Ron, Hermione and Harry visited Xenophilius Lovegood. 

"Yes," Luna said with great happiness, and she began humming, examining the room in interest.

"What do you want?" Rhea asked irritably, with a resigned sigh. Even though she knew it wasn't fair on her part to take her anger out on Luna, the past few months had taken a huge toll on her, leaving her short tempered, anxious and irritable. 

In fact, Rhea wouldn't be surprised if the months they'd spent wearing the locker had tapmered with her temper permanently. For the life of her, she couldn't bring herself to speak nicely even to Luna—it was like she'd forgotten how to behave like Rhea Arquette altogether. 

All those months they'd spent on the run, the energy and time they'd wasted....all for nothing. 

And her friends wouldn't even remember her.

"It's rather rude to run out of the Headmaster's office when he clearly had more instructions for us, you know," Luna said serenely, turning her gaze towards Rhea. As much as Luna too had been held hostage in the Malfoy Manor with no one but Ollivander for company, she still possessed the miraculous ability to stay optimistic even during tough times. Rhea envied her buoyant attitude.

"It's rather rude, you know," Rhea mimicked childishly, and winced when it reminded her of Bellatrix. Mentally, she berated herself for her insensitive remark. 

"Real mature," Luna snapped, sounding suddenly like Hermione. Months of captivity in the Malfoy Manor made her resentment towards Bellatrix Lestrange grow, and even hearing a weak imitation of her voice made Luna shudder. 

"What do you want?" Rhea repeated, emphasising each word and avoiding Luna's eyes. 

Luna sighed, and for the first time she looked extremely exhausted. Her eyes had lost the curiousness she once had, and Rhea felt immensely guilty. It must have truly been a traumatic experience for her to live at Malfoy Manor. 

"I'm sorry, Luna," Rhea whispered sincerely. "I swear I didn't want to bring you into this, I swear—"

"Wrackspurts wreak havoc wrought wrath, Wrackspurts wreak havoc wrought wrath, Wrackspurts—"

"Damn it, Luna! I'm apologising, so sincerely, and you don't even have the courtesy to—"

"—wrought havoc," Luna finished.

"Wrought wrath," Rhea immediately corrected.

Luna smiled.

"Fine, you forgive me," Rhea allowed grudgingly. "But it isn't going to be easy here, Luna. Everything is going to change. We will meet people who are either dead in our time, or are Death Eaters, we will never meet Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny and the other Weasleys."

"But we can change their fates," Luna said softly.

Rhea stopped ranting, and looked at Luna blankly. Suddenly she sprang up from her bed. "No," she hissed. "Didn't I tell you? Bad things happen to those—"

"Who meddle with time," Luna continued airily. "But, you see, we won't be doing it intentionally."

Upon Rhea's confused look, Luna carried on. "What if we are not here by accident? What if we were meant to be here?" she wondered out loud.

Taking Rhea's silence as a 'go-on' signal, Luna spoke, "What if the Doorway was meant to take us here, to save the past, set our mistakes right?"

"That's a lot of 'what-ifs', Luna" Rhea sighed tiredly, and sat down on her would-be bed.

"Yes," Luna said reluctantly. "But I think Dumbledore has realized that altering this timeline won't damage the fabric of other timelines."

"Because our timeline is destroyed," Rhea realized in horror. "So it won't be fatal if we do alter the past."

"It's just my theory," Luna reminded her.

"I believe your theories," Rhea said dismissively, and Luna, touched, beamed brightly at her.

"But I don't think a Crumple-Horned Snorkack exists," Rhea added, and Luna scowled. Shrugging innocently, the former continued, "It was the Erumpent horn that exploded in your house, Luna—"

"Rubbish—"

She cut herself off when a bright Phoenix entered the girls dormitory, its silvery glow brightening the room further. 

"Miss Arquette, Miss Lovegood... I believe we have some more talking to do."

"I shall expect you in my office in half an hour,"

"With some Chocolate Frogs and Lemon Drops for lunch"

The Phoenix faded, and Luna and Rhea looked at each other, before Luna stated solemnly, "Chocolate Frogs aren't enough for lunch."

"It's the password," Rhea muttered, distracted.

Huffing, Rhea Arquette announced, "Fine! Damn the Timeline and dangers! I'm going to spill the beans—"

"Spill the Dirigible Plumes," interjected Luna.

"—spill the Dirigible Plums about Voldemort!" Rhea finished.