Angelica backed away, and into a doorway she hadn't noticed was there. She was startled and feeling nervous. "What's going on?" she thought uncomfortably. "Where did this door come from?" she wondered, turning around to look at the entry back onto the street. She turned back to the room to take in her surroundings. The room was too dark, and some of the people in the tiny restaurant looked oddly dressed. She noticed a woman cleaning plates at a table, and went up to her.

"'Scuse me." she started timidly. The woman didn't pay her any notice.

"Umm. hello? Ma'am? Could you tell me where I am?"

"It's no use, little girl. She can't hear you-she's deaf." Angelica jumped at the voice from behind her.

"Huh? Who are you, then? Could you tell me where I am?"

"My name is Tom, and this is my cousin Alice. I am the owner of this place. Am I correct in thinking you are lost?"

"Yeah. I want to find my daddy. Could you help me?"

"Of course I'll help you find him. Come with me."

"Oy-Tom! A heavyset man called. "I need some more firewhisky! You don't wanna let me be dry for this long, or I'm going to get angry! Pay attention to your customers and let the muggle brat find her own way home."

The man briefly entertained thoughts of cursing the troublesome drunk as he passed. He went back into the kitchen and called out to the cook.

"Iris!"

The woman looked up from the table where she was looking at a cookbook and stirring a pot of soup. "What'ya want?"

"Patrick is getting bothersome again", he replied. "Could you come out and get him his drinks?"

She scowled. "Tom, why the hell don't you just toss that old (insert epithet here) out of the establishment? Day in, day out, you're always way too soft on the hoards of drunks that decide to haunt this place."

"I've told you this before, money is money. I want to be able to pay my rent."

"Well, I've told you: throw out the lowlifes that crowd this place, and then this will be a far more respectable establishment. Now *that's* what'll draw the big spenders for ya."

Outside of the kitchen, Angelica was getting increasingly hungry and nervous. Tom and Iris came out after a few minutes. Tom returned to talk to her.

Another shout came from Patrick's table. He was loudly greeting a friend. Tom, meanwhile, addressed the small girl. "What is your name", he asked. "Maybe I'll be able to find your Mum and Dad."

"I- I'm Angelica. Angelica Pickles."

Tom thought to himself for a moment. "Pickles? That's an odd name. I know I haven't heard anyone with that name-but then again, she is a muggle, and a foreigner."

"You come from America, don't you?"

"Uhh. I think so."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I don't know how to help you. I think we might be able to let you stay here for a little while. Could I get you anything to drink?"

"Yes! I'd like an apple juice."

"That I can do. I'll be back in a moment." In fact he had nothing of the sort, but he went into the kitchen and conjured some for her.

"There you go."

"Thank you, Mr. Tom", Angelica said.

He had already returned to his work when Angelica finished her juice and started to get curious about her surroundings. She glanced around and observed the patrons. "Everybody dressed weird here", she thought. Some of them, indeed, didn't look quite human. Odd little things seemed to suggest that conclusion. One man sitting near a fireplace seemed to have fangs. "This place is *very* weird", she concluded to herself.

It seemed that some of the people in the little pub had gotten the same idea about her. Most everyone was staring at her more or less. But the attention of the patrons soon distracted when a chime sounded, signaling a new arrival. She turned to see Tom greeting two people coming in the door- a massively oversized man who was accompanied by a nervous-looking young boy next to him.