It was amazing how much they could say with their silence; Morag studied him, in her careless, unsubtle way, over the top of her bitter. She tried to understand what brought him pause, not knowing how easily she could have sympathised if they'd just been honest with one another. Each day that passed made her less comfortable with the Wizarding world at large. Each day, she asked herself what she was doing there. Each day, she found a new answer.
But she was an auror, not a psychiatrist, and she assumed Miles's discomfort was a simple matter of new rules, new restrictions. She wouldn't have blamed him.
"Wouldn't hurt to try it out on a few old codgers in the Leaky. Pass it off as original music." She winked.