Diana leaned back a little against his arm, but didn't otherwise resist ducking into the pub; she, after all, had been there with him, when he had been checking for magical traces, and she, too, knew it was safer to talk inside the pub. Still however, she, too, leaned in closer to James to whisper back, "Yes, in fact, I did! Answered him, even-- under wards, of course! I mean, I still signed my name to the comments... but even so... he remained anonymous to me, because he wouldn't want to trust a Death Eaters' whore!"
She said this last a little too loudly, considering her closeness to James's ear, and was quick to apologise when he flinched, "Oh, I am sorry, sweetie! I just... get so heated about this whole bloody business, and -- well -- what he said to me didn't help me much...!"
She looked about the pub for herself, searching for Aberforth's distinctive beard -- until, that was, she realised that he must have shaved it off by now, to blend in with the Muggles! She wondered, if only vaguely, how she might be forced to change her appearance in order to disappear from the wizarding world. Blonde hair, perhaps? She could certainly live with that; after all, her brunette mane was a constant reminder of what her papa was to her-- namely, her papa, her own father!
She at last supposed that she wouldn't even recognise Aberforth's face without the telltale beard, and so she gave up eying the other patrons -- instead looking back to James, to see if he noticed his old comrade-in-arms somewhere inside this crowded pub...