AN: I am so sorry about the delay. I will upload more frequently in the future, but I have not had time to even breathe these past few months. Enjoy the new chapter! (as always with me, feel free to point out spelling/grammar mistakes and if I stray from canon, as long as you're civil about it!

After the talk with Dumbledore, Morag didn't know what to make of anything anymore. Apparently, her visions were uncommon, but not, as he had said, "unheard of." Some of the things she could do still confused him, like how she could focus on one person, and see their past as well as their presence. He had not been angry when she had accidentally peeked at his past, but emphasized that she should try to avoid it.

It had pained her to keep quiet, as she wanted nothing more than to comfort Dumbledore, tell him that it wasn't his fault, and that he should forgive himself. But he knew that he had seen it, and he also didn't talk about it, so she kept quiet. All of this was floating around in her mind as she entered the hidden pub Dumbledore had told her to seek out.

Whatever Morag had imagined the wizarding world would be like after her talk with Dumbledore, this certainly wasn't it. The small room she was standing in could only be described as improbably filthy, and in one corner a bunch of obnoxiously loud men were playing a game of cards, only they seemed to have moving pictures. Morag could have sworn the King of Spades yelled at one of the players for being "the most dim-witted hooligan ever to play cards!"

Morag went up to the barkeeper (Dumbledore had said his name was Tom) and sat down by the bar.
"Excuse me?" the barkeeper turned, and Morag vary nearly succeeded in not raising her eyebrows at the sight. The barkeeper was very old and mostly bald, and Morag couldn't help but think he somewhat resembled a toothless raisin. If he noticed her slight reaction, he said nothing of it. "Yes, my dear? How may I help you?" Just then one of the wizards in the corner yelled some very disturbing profantities to the Queen of Diamonds, as she had apparently tried to escape while the man was dealing. The toothless gave the group an annoyed look, but otherwise ignored them.

"I was told to come here, sir, and wait for a Hogwarts teacher, I need to do my shopping, so can I just sit here until he shows up?" Morag said, all in one breath. She would rather get out of here as soon as possible, and the bar scene made her uneasy. But Tom simply smiled at her.

"Yes, of course." He lifted a glass, pointed at it and it instantly cleaned itself before he put it back in its shelf. He kept on with the task while talking to her. "So, shopping with a teacher. Muggleborn, then, huh?" Muggleborn? Was the man being rude?
"Excuse me, what's that?" she said in a fiery tone. The man set a glass back in its shelf and smiled at her, as if reassuring her he was not trying to insult her. "It means your parents aren't magic." Morag let her eyes find the floor. It really was very filthy. "I wouldn't know sir, I grew up in an orphanage. They might have been."

"Oh," the man simply said. When she dared look back up, it wasn't sympathy she saw in the man's face. Nor was it regret for bringing up the subject. It was... fright? Why would the man be scared of her simply because she was an orphan? Curiosity got the best of her, and even though Dumbledore had told her not to, she took a dive.

Images flew through her mind. A young boy of her age entering the pub alone, calling himself Tom. The same boy, slightly older, surrounded by admiring peers as they marched through the pub. A man – was he really the same as that young boy? - red slits for eyes, flat face, laughing a piercing laugh as walls came crashing down around him, women screaming and children crying.

She clawed her way back to reality, and her face was a mirrored look of terror to what the barkeeper had displayed before. Her heart was beating its way of her chest, and she wanted nothing but to back away from the man and run, but she was afraid her legs might give in. At that moment, the barkeeper seemed to shake it off as the door opened.

"It seems your teacher has arrived, miss."

Morag turned, and she could not help but to let out a gasp. The man in the doorway was bigger than any man she'd ever seen in her life! He was crouching beneath the ceiling, and he was five times as wide as a regular man. His face was hidden by a wild, bushy beard and his clothes were a bit ragged. But upon meeting his eyes, Morag let out a sigh of relief. He was a good man. Big and scary-looking, but good. She didn'y know how she could tell, but she could. She always could.

"I take it yer miss MacDougal then, eh?" He smiled at her. "Tom been keepin' you busy? Sorry I'm late, I had some... er, trouble getting' ere. Well, anyway, we best get goin', then!"