DOORWAYS || MARAUDERS ERA

ϟ78: BITTERSWEETϟ

"What would you like to drink, Mr. Potter and Miss Arquette," she said, smiling still more widely. "Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

Rhea glared witheringly at Umbridge, while Harry responded coldly, "Nothing, thank you."

"I wish you to have a drink with me." Umbridge's voice was dangerously sweet. "Choose one."

Rhea pursed her lips. "Coffee." she answered shortly. "And I don't like sugar with coffee, just for the record."

"Tea." Harry said stiffly. Umbridge smiled widely at them, before making an extravagant show of preparing the cups of tea and coffee.

So, naturally, Rhea let her legilimency absorb Umbridge's thoughts: brats...Dumbledore's plans....Sirius Black...veritaserum....

Oh, Merlin. 

"There," Umbridge said, handing the cups to them. "Drink it before it gets cold, won't you? Well, now. . . I thought we ought to have a little chat, after the distressing events of last night."

"You mean the great escape of Albus Dumbledore?" Rhea asked flatly. She didn't touch her coffee, and nor did Harry. "It was quite a splendid display of style, don't you think?"

Harry smirked, while Umbridge took a deep breath to calm her temper. "You're not drinking up!" Umbridge trilled annoyingly.

Rhea snorted. She was quite sure Snape had given her fake veritaserum—if Dumbledore's trust was anything to go by. Rhea was going to put this theory to test.

She just hoped it wouldn't backfire.

"Okay." Rhea sighed, lifting her cup and taking a sip of the coffee. Harry cast her an alarmed look, warning her to stop at once.

Umbridge looked like a toad preying on a fly.

The moment the coffee touched her lips, Rhea cringed at the sweetness—Umbridge must have added at least seven spoons of sugar into it.

She spat the beverage onto Umbridge's desk.

"This isn't coffee." Rhea snapped, wiping her mouth harshly. "Are you trying to give me cavities, Professor?"

Umbridge's smile fell. "Of course not." She bit out through gritted teeth. "But enough of this." She drew herself straight, staring right at Rhea. Harry inhaled sharply.

The pink toad leaned forward intimidatingly, and asked in a chilly voice, "Where. Is. Albus. Dumbledore?"

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Rhea reckoned Hogwarts' creativity of assigning detentions sucked.

The only forms of punishment were: brewing a potion, sorting potions ingredients, cleaning hospital bedpans, sorting files, writing lines and cleaning trophies. Maybe an occasional visit or two to the Forbidden Forest, but that was all.

"This is your fault, Lupin. I could've been doing something more productive instead of organizing books in alphabetical order without magic."

Remus rolled his eyes at her, but Rhea could make out the cheeky grin threatening to break out. He'd been sporting a smile ever since the start of detention.

And Rhea'd been sporting a scowl from the start. It was like he took pleasure in making her exasperated and angry.

"And what's the point of arranging this anyway?" Rhea continued, slamming a book on the shelf and coughing when the dust entered her nostrils. "We're magic folk for Merlin's sake, a simple accio can help summon it..."