Hufflepuff. She could envision herself bundled in a scarf of yellow in black, but would it look any good? She has dark hair, blue eyes, and a fair complexion - she couldn't imagine a warm color complimenting her features. (Not that she imagined many of the other color combinations - except maybe Ravenclaw's - might do any better.)
One thing was certain: Flora Mulciber did not want to spend the next seven years of her life a walking, talking fashion disaster. There was also the placements of the common rooms to consider, and admittedly Flora did not know very much apart from what she'd read while scanning a few books here and there.
"I guess you're right - I'll have to wait," she huffed, a sudden wave of restlessness overcoming her. "I must know, Merriweather," she prompted once more, unable to resist the temptation to keep pestering her brother with questions, "have you ever been in detention? Is it true they hang you by your ankles? And is it true that you could get detention for something as silly as writing too slow?"
One thing was certain: Flora Mulciber did not want to spend the next seven years of her life a walking, talking fashion disaster. There was also the placements of the common rooms to consider, and admittedly Flora did not know very much apart from what she'd read while scanning a few books here and there.
"I guess you're right - I'll have to wait," she huffed, a sudden wave of restlessness overcoming her. "I must know, Merriweather," she prompted once more, unable to resist the temptation to keep pestering her brother with questions, "have you ever been in detention? Is it true they hang you by your ankles? And is it true that you could get detention for something as silly as writing too slow?"
