Delilah looked about as undignified as one could get for the French. Her hair was messily thrown across her shoulders and her dress looked more like a black slip than an actual dress, but classes weren’t running at the moment and she had more important things to attend to. Like people watching, and gnawing away at her apple. It wasn’t lady like, and her mother would be scolding her for hours about it. But her mother wasn’t here, gratefully and so she wondered the halls of Hogwarts, her arms swinging casually.














