Sara knew better, should have known better, than to talk about the head couple of her house. They always seemed to know about every happening within the Slytherin house. Still, that didn't mean it irked her any less. Only more.
Moving a cup from on top of the cage of rodents to a shelf, Sara saw that as her "helping". Like she was going to do the hags work for her. It wasn't her fault McGonagall didn't know how to organize.
"Probably." She scratched one of the rats back through the bars of the cage. Deciding to risk it, she was mad enough not to care if Tracey ended up ratting her out to Pansy or Draco, she spoke, "It's because their families are the richest." she continued on her statement from earlier, "If they weren't, then the ones who did have the most money would be in the same position." She shrugged. The Moons were luckily one of the quite well off families, almost as old as the infamous Blacks, but didn't manage to quite break that top few.
"She usually give more. Consider yourself lucky." Clicking her tongue, she tried to coax a rat to come to her like a dog. "McGonagall needs to get shagged. Or just take the stick out of her arse."
Shrugging, Sara managed to not roll her eyes at the name. Her betrothed was not something she wanted to talk about with a girl like Tracey. Shut up, Moon. Forget about it.</i. she chastised herself. "It's the 'proper' thing to do with the boy you're betrothed to, right?" she said in a slightly bitter tone as she quoted her mother's speech that she had given Sara before school that year about she was od enough now to really get "connected" with the boy she was to wed.
In an attempt to draw her mind away from it's bordering dangerous territory, she focused on the rats. "Do you think the hag would know if one was missing?" she asked about the rats.