Righteously pissed, wrongly accused Sara Moon sat in her desk after class in detention twirling her quill. She was writing, well, suppose to be writhing the exact sentences her so-called cohort was. She was tempted throw the quill in her hand across the room but she decided she had taken enough points from her house today. Along with the initial twenty each that were subtracted from her and her "accomplice", Sara had gotten another fifteen for saying her mind in a rather indignant "That's total bullocks!". Sara knew where to draw the line. Not saying that she didn't want to draw said line on the Gryffindor head of house's forehead.
And really, it wasn't even her who did anything! Damn Pansy and Draco, how did they manage to get away with bloody everything? Bloody king and queen of Slytherin...Anyways, it couldn't have been Sara, she had been to busy trying to drone out Theo's annoying bragging and actually pay attention to the lesson. Sometimes, actually most of the time, she wanted to strangle him. She couldn't believe that that was the boy her parents had arranged her to marry. She hoped he would at least learn to tame his hair before he graduated. Bedhead was not a good look for him, as hard as he tried.
Sara looked over to her detention companion. Tracey Davis. She didn't know really anything about the girl, well besides they were in the same house. But for some reason, Sara seemed pulled to her and pushed away at the same time. She quickly looked back down to her paper when she saw Tracey's eyes turn towards her. Why was she looking at her? Don't even think it Moon, it's not worth the risk... She sighed.
Following Tracey with her eyes as the girl stood up, she watched as she handed her paper in. Sara had to bite her lip to keep from snickering at Tracey's tone and the professor's indignation. Old hag... When McGonagall told her to follow, she put on a voice lace with sickly sweet sarcasm, "But I'm not done Professor."
McGonagall turned with a frown, "The same goes to you, Miss Moon. I don't have time to babysit your slow penmanship. Get up and follow me."
Sara rolled her eyes and stood, handing her unfinished parchment to her professor as she followed her to the closet, hands stuffed in her pockets. Entering it, she scowled at the amount of work set out for them.
Looking at McGonagall with her scowl still on, she grudgingly gave away her wand and watched as she left.
As the door shut, Tracey turned to the rats in their cages. She poked at them and watched them scramble over each other. "I don't think anyone does. Well, besides Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent. People are just afraid of them." she murmured, still goofing off with the mice. Like hell she was going to do work fit for a house elf.
With a sly glance, she managed to sneak a look at the blonde. Sara bit her lip and turned back to the rodents.