“Certainly not you.” Greg said stupidly. John bit his tongue to stop from screaming at him to keep his mouth shut.
“Sorry ma’am, but we were just wondering when Greg could play quidditch again.” John said, trying to keep his voice calm and collective as she stared down at them.
“Very secretly I see.” She pointed out.
“Well we didn’t know if you’d really want to see us, you kind of seemed ticked off with us in the locker rooms.” John shrugged. Her toad eyes scanned each of them, trying to find a clue to what they were actually doing and trying to detect any sarcasm.
“Well, Mr. Lestrade, I just want proof that you aren’t in a relationship with Mr. Holmes.” She pointed out. Sherlock took a big step away from Greg, looking disgusted.
“So this is what this is about? I can assure you that I would never…”
“Mr. Mycroft Holmes.” Umbridge corrected. Sherlock cracked a smile, his hair all shaken to the side, making John avert his eyes.
“Mycroft, in a relationship with Greg? Sorry Mrs. High Inquisitor but obviously you’re mistaken, he’s going out with Anthea , a Hufflepuff in seventh year, black hair, likes to kiss way too much if you ask me it’s disgusting. Mycroft can never shut up about her, it’s all Anthea did this, Anthea did that, I can’t eat this because Anthea said it’s gross, it’s awful I assure you.” Sherlock defended. Umbridge didn’t look too convinced, but smiled assuring.
“Well then, I’ll go visit this Anthea tonight then, get her side of the story.” Umbridge decided.
“Go ahead but I doubt you’ll be able to talk while she babbles about her ‘perfect little Mikey’.” Sherlock rolled his eyes and for the first time John thought he saw doubt flash in Umbridge’s eyes when Sherlock didn’t budge at her threat.
“What proof do you need that I’m not with Mycroft?” Greg asked.
“I guess I just need no proof that you are with him for a long time.” Umbridge shrugged.
“That’s not very fair; it’s innocent until proven guilty.” John defended.
“They were seen by numerous witnesses dancing together, and I call that proof.” She pointed out.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I only did that to try to get him to get McGonagall to give me a better grade? There was nothing to it except stupid tricks that I thought might bump me out of failing grades.”
“And did he fall for it?”
“Of course not, he’s way too good of a person to do that apparently.” Greg groaned.
 “But he did express interest?”
“No of course not, we danced once and then he told me that he had he was about to ask Anthea to dance.” Greg defended.
“And that was how the whole thing ended?” She asked.
“And how I was tortured to listen about all of Anthea’s problems for the rest of my miserable days.” Sherlock grumbled.
“Then I shall talk to this Anthea and then I will let you off the hook, but only if she is convincing enough.” Umbridge pointed out.
“Yes well, have fun listening to that!” Sherlock decided, and with that lead the small group out and away from her eye. To be safe they just walked back to the Ravenclaw common room, they didn’t need noise and butterbeer at the moment, they needed to find out how to talk to Anthea. When Sherlock let them in, (the annoying doorknocker’s question would’ve locked anyone else out), he lead them past them to a secluded table in the corner. The Ravenclaws didn’t even look up once, they just continued studying and talking quietly. Honestly it disgusted John to see so much dullness in a house; compared to them Gryffindor looked like they were all sent straight from hell. John and Sherlock sat down, Sherlock putting his feet on the table, right in front of John’s face and making him frown a bit. Maybe Sherlock wasn’t so different after all. Greg was pacing in front of them, pacing nervously.
“Well, I guess we got ourselves out of trouble for now, but even more in trouble later.” He decided with a groan.
“We just need to get to Anthea before she does.” Sherlock pointed out.
“How? We just prance right into the Hufflepuff common room?” Greg growled, glaring at Sherlock with annoyance.
“I’m pretty sure you can get in my saying please.” Sherlock muttered, rolling his eyes with boredom.
“Oh that’s rubbish!” John defended. Sherlock just shrugged and leaned back in his chair once again, letting his head fall over the back and his curls hang loosely in the air. John felt like he could stare at him all day, but looked back at Greg to make sure no one picked up on anything between them.
“Sherlock where have you been?” Mycroft swooped out of nowhere; pushing Sherlock’s head back up but being attacked with a hug by Greg before he could say anything more.
“Where the bloody hell have you been!” Greg demanded, holding him at arm’s length my the shoulders to make sure he wasn’t hurt or anything. Sherlock pretended to throw up, making John crack a smile but was really more focused on where the heck Mycroft had been hiding for a while.
“Library, what’s wrong with that?” he asked, looking at John and Sherlock with confusion.
“We couldn’t find you anywhere, we thought Umbridge took you, we went spying on her and got caught!” Sherlock pointed out, a big frown on his face.
“Well, I’m here, I’m fine.” Mycroft pointed out.
“And you’re also dating Anthea, or that’s what Umbridge thinks now.” John sighed.
“Oh god no, she never shuts up!” Mycroft groans.
“Do you know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room?” Sherlock asked dully.
“I’m Head Boy, of course I do.” Mycroft said, rolling his eyes as if his brother was stupid or something.
“Umbridge is going to go ask her about you two, and Anthea needs to tell her the same story.” John pointed out, making Mycroft frown again.
“When is Umbridge going to talk to her?” he asked.
“I don’t know, she said now, but I doubt she’ll be that proactive to be honest. Probably tomorrow morning, so that gives us tonight to get her in on the whole story.” Sherlock guessed.
“Oh course, perfect brother dear, now we wrapped a pour girl into this also. Do I honestly have to spend time with that awful girl now?” Mycroft complained.
“Well if you want to stay in this school I suggest you do.” John decided.
“Why couldn’t you just keep your mouths shut?” Mycroft groaned.
“We thought she was torturing you!” Greg pointed out.
“Speaking of Umbridge, why’d you leave the quidditch game?” Mycroft asked curiously.
“I guess I was ‘guilty until proven innocent’, and banned from quidditch.” Greg groaned.
“What a freaken hag.” Sherlock decided.
“Should we get going? You said you can get into the common room, I guess we have to now.” John pointed out.
“What are you wearing?” Mycroft asked. John groaned, looking down at the banner tied around his neck.
“Oh, it’s a cape I guess.” He shrugged. “But that’s not the point, we need to go.”
“Do I seriously have to; this seems like more of their problem to be honest.” Sherlock groaned.
“But you’re the one that made the lie up!” Greg defended.
“So you should be the one to end it. You and Mr. Cheesecake can go find Anthea, explain it, and come back; John and I can wait here and make fun of Umbridge while we wait. We shouldn’t scare her more than we have to with my presence. It must be very degrading to find out you have to pretend to be attracted to…” his eyes flashed at Mycroft, “That…” Mycroft scowled, but Greg looked even more insulted. John held in his laughter, but Sherlock just smiled sarcastically up at his older brother as if trying to ask what he was going to do about it.
“So you two are going to sit here while we work?” Greg asked with annoyance.
“It seems that it’s more of your problem really.” Sherlock pointed out.
“And if Umbridge finds a big group of us, she’ll definitely think we’re plotting something.” John agreed.
“What if she finds just the two of us, wandering the corridors at night? It’s a bit suspicious don’t you think?” Greg debated.
“Tell her that you were looking for me; say I was just wandering around the castle for some thrills.” Sherlock shrugged. “It’s quite believable.” Mycroft glared at him, but obviously the battle had been won.
“Fine, but if we get caught it’s all on you.” He decided.
“Be careful you two, and please focus.” John agreed.
“Oh what would make you think differently?” Greg said with a laugh, taking Mycroft’s hand and dragging him back to the door. Once they left it was silent, John sighing and looking around this odd looking common room. There were book cases everywhere, and above them was domed glass windows, shining the light from the night sky into the room. It was almost completely silent, something that very much bothered John. Now that Mycroft and Greg were gone, Sherlock seemed to lose his nerve, not saying much and levitating a quill left on one of the tables.