Persephone staggered toward a comfortable bench, holding her rumbling stomach. She knew the Three Broomsticks was not yet open, so Persephone took a seat and waited, ruffling her short mop of hair. Stupid hair. No matter how much of it I chop off, it seems to get worse and worse when I sleep in Diagon Alley. It was true, it had been a few days since she had found someone to house her for a night or two. I'm getting to the point where I'm going to be the poor Slytherin girl who doesn't live up to her blood status. The longer she sat there, the more anxious she became. She held her stomach and closed her eyes, hoping that she'd somehow turn invisible. That, or attract food faster. That was all she thought about these days. Her next host, and food. She missed her own bed, her wardrobe past her current tanktop and cudoroy pants, and her shorts and long sleeved shirt. contained in her satchel. "Tergeo." Persephone whispered, cleaning the stained mud off of her satchel.