The Three Broomsticks
Life certainly was never boring. If it wasn't one thing, it was another. Or, as in recent history, if it wasn't one problem, it was another.
The unsolved murder spree at Hogwarts despite the presence of the Imperium Guard and its captain, Markus von Wolfram, was such a problem. It had loomed over her since Williams had abdicated not all that long ago. Teague, while still leaving much to be desired in her opinion, was doing an alright job, but Delilah still felt she had to take on the brunt of politics. The tracker had no mind for politics--not enough to keep them afloat, so as his press secretary, she had released several statements to the eager media on the subject.
Last night had been another sleepless night for Delilah as a result. Perhaps it was nerves. No matter how much she and Soren had discussed everything, she seemed to come up with a new question or what if that needed answers, and even if she could logic out most, it didn't help relax her mind. She was taking a huge risk, one that could end in death for all of Hogwarts' occupants and then some. She might not be alive to have to live with that guilt, but Teague would have to handle it all on his own. How would he fare with that? Would he be able to survive that backlash or would Hunt get the better of him in that moment?
Delilah leaned back against the corner made by the booth and the wall and hugged her arms closer to her body, her thumb stroking her arm despite the fact she had her winter robes on. It was raining outside right now, seemingly a light mist, but enough for her to notice on the window pane. She almost wished it would actually rain. The sound would be calming, wouldn't it?