An repugnant locale. That was all she had to opine about the scenario, which was otherwise routinely and utterly necessary, in her opinion. Some may have gone far to call Helena Morgan overcautious and too thorough, but one really could not ever be too thorough. Of course, there was that she had in this project a personal interest, being the safety of her daughter, who had proven to be unwise in her choice of companionship. Oh, the Rumor Rag did not irk her, she barely swam in social circles enough to be affected by its outcome, whatever it may have been, but there were implications of an acquaintance that her younger daughter had no notion about, or so she was sure. Irrelevant as that was to the current matter at hand, which was related strictly to work, centered only incidentally around the protection of the school that her daughter happened to attend.

But really, the Hogs Head it was most objectionable, though she could certainly not create an issue over where their discussion was to be held, even if it did seem unprofessional and rather disgusting. It was not known for its dcor, certainly, as much as perhaps it was known for the abysmal lot of uncouth personages that made it a habit to drop in. Helena could not personally see any reason why this discussion could not be held within the school itself. Children running around were almost as irritating at the sleazy clientele of the Hogs Head, but they were something of a minor improvement. And it only made sense to discuss matters of the school at school, but apparently there was some sort of discrepancy in her opinion on that matter and whosoever had decided on this location. Probably Dumbledore. Her respect for her old Transfigurations teacher did not extent to his choice of rendezvous points, that was for sure.

It was not however her place to object, and she did not raise an eyebrow when she was informed. It made no great difference to her. She still arrived at the scene exactly on time, Apparating to the street outside the Hogs Head in her neatly ironed robes and her perfectly pulled back hair, looking as pulled together as she would have at any place, though perhaps here it may have been inappropriate. No matter, though. Stepping inside, she acknowledged the young Hit Wizard, the Headmaster and the tiny professor with a brief nod. Auror Leathan is on his way, she said, and refrained from adding a derisive presumably to that sentence. Needless to say her personal grudges towards her colleague could be safely left out of this matter. That it left little room for conversation was of no consequence to her, her social skills at their most terse. Taking up a seat, she sat down, cold gaze falling on the setting, mild disdain creeping onto her face.

Very, very dubious.

No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.