A/N: This chapter is a recap of the first chapter of OOTP with a small flashback at the beginning. I'm setting the timeline up, next chapter we get a bit more original. This is a female Harry story. There will be some AU eventually. I don't have a beta so feel free to correct any errors in grammar, etc...

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I'm just obsessed.

The hedges of the maze were at least twenty feet high, and the twists and turns looked never-ending and daunting. Willow stood next to Moody. He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.

"You're almost there, Potter. You're almost to the cup." She met his eyes, the blue one met her right back, while the magical eye seemed to look even deeper. She nodded, her mouth completely dry and her eyes slightly unfocused.

"IN FIRST PLACE—a tie—POTTER AND DIGGORY WITH 85 POINTS!"

Willow looked to her left to meet Cedric's gaze. He smiled nervously at her. His kind eyes soothed her in an indescribable way. She nodded back to him, giving him a tight smile. The other champions, Viktor Krum and Fleur Delacour, started after them, as they were in third and fourth place. She was too nervous to meet the terrified eyes of Hermione, Ron, and the Weasleys. If she saw the fear on their faces it would consume her. She knew Malfoy and the Slytherins were somewhere in the stands, wearing their 'POTTER SUCKS' badges and praying for her demise.

"IF YOU ARE UNABLE TO CONTINUE, OR NEED RESCUING, ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS SHOOT THE RED SPARKS INTO THE AIR AND ONE OF OUR PATROLLERS WILL COME RESCUE YOU—" The voice of Ludo Bagman echoed throughout the Quidditch pitch. Hagrid, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Moody all stood at the edge of the maze, waiting for a champion to throw in the towel.

Anything could be in there. Willow took a deep breath, the maze was ominous and looming. She could do this, she'd made it this far as the youngest champion there'd ever been. She ignored a nagging feeling of suspicion clawing at her stomach, telling her something wasn't right. She stared into the dark opening in the hedge and took a deep gulp. The cheering in the stands whomped in her ears, and then she heard the horn sound.

She stood still for a moment.

"Move, Potter, go!" Moody nudged her fiercely towards the entrance to the maze and she took off in a sprint, completely numb and deaf to her surroundings. Her wand was out and at the ready. She briefly turned around just in time to see the maze sew itself back up and trap her inside, her last view of the outside Alastor Moody's deeply scared face.

She lay hidden from the world behind a hydrangea bush, flat on her back in her aunt and uncle's flowerbed. It was the hottest day of the summer in Little Whinging, not a soul was out braving the sun except for the small black haired-girl with the oversized spectacles and strange lightning bolt scar.

And even if they did, nobody dared approach the Potter girl. They had all heard the stories of how she attended a school for troubled youth, and her scruffy clothing didn't do much to draw them in either. The residents of Privet Drive stuck their noses up at the girl, displeased with how Willow Sage Potter put a scuff mark on their quant little neighborhood.

However, nobody stuck their noses up quite as much as her Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and wretched cousin Dudley. Willow thought it was entirely clever of her to be hiding so stealthily, quite literally under her aunt and uncle's noses. If they were to look directly underneath their bedroom window they would see their niece laying there squinty eyed, ears perked up in hopes of catching any news.

Listening to the news was the only activity that had kept Willow sane all summer, as none of her friends had written her any letters regarding anything substantial that was happening in her world.

"Normal teenagers aren't interested in the news," Vernon Dursley scoffed, referring to his burden of a niece who had been lurking around the television all summer. "Where is the girl, anyways?"

"I don't know," Petunia Dursley dully, "Not in the house."

Willow wished they would stop talking, their voices were drowning out the sounds of the television. The sweat soaking the back of her t-shirt didn't help her frustration. She fanned herself with her hands to no avail.

"I'd like to know what she's really up to," Vernon spat, "Dudley hasn't the faintest idea what's going on. It's not like there would be anything about her lot on our news."

Petunia let out a half-shriek, "Shhh, Vernon, the window!"

"Right, sorry dear . . ." Her aunt and uncle were quiet for a moment, which Willow cherished as she listened intently to the television, only to realize a jingle for cereal was playing. She sighed quietly and picked at the grass.

Mrs Figg, Willow's strange cat-loving neighbor tottered by, and Willow hid herself deeper into the flower bed. She had spent too much time with old Mrs. Figg growing up. when the Dursley's took Dudley somewhere fun, Willow had been left with Mrs. Figg and her cats. The old woman had been asking Willow to come over for tea all summer, and she was running out of excuses.

Petunia and Vernon prattled on about how their beloved Diddykins was at tea with the Polkisses, his almost equally as horrible best friend's Piers house. Willow smirked, knowing full well Dudley and his friends didn't have tea, they had whiskey and cigarettes before heading out to vandalize the town and terrorize the neighborhood children.

Finally, the music opening the nightly news began to play, causing Willow to go remain still as a statue and listen intently. Her stomach did a somersault as she waited to hear anything of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

However, the first story reported was one involving stranded holidaymakers. Surely death and destruction would be stated first? Willow let out the breath she was unaware she was holding.

All summer had been a constant anxiety. She would wait for the bad news, only for nothing to be reported day after day. She had seen Voldemort return herself, so why wasn't he making a move? Was he waiting for something? She lay in the grass still completely still, listening to the rest of the news for anything out of the ordinary. However, the rest of the news was all muggle related and trivial.

Willow began to move out of her pinstraight position when a resonating CRACK burst through the silence of Privet Drive, as loud as a plane or a gunshot. A cat nearby ran out from under a car, screeching loudly and the sound of breaking glass in the Dursley residence rang in Willow's ears. She jumped up in alarm, slamming her head against the window frame, causing Petunia to shriek even louder.

Willow whipped her wand around, trying to find the source of the crack, her eyes watering and head pounding from the collision with the window. She felt two meaty hands close around her throat.

"Put that damn thing away — now! Before the neighbors see it! " Her uncle hissed furiously.

"GERROFF ME!" Willow choked out, wrestling briefly with her uncle before he released his choke hold abruptly, gasping as if receiving some sort of painful shock. She angrily waved her wand around again, looking around for whatever caused the loud crack. Whatever it was now was long gone, so Willow clumsily shoved her wand in her pocket and glared back the neighbors peering around at her from their windows with sour expressions.

Lovely evening!" She heard Uncle Vernon shout to a frowning neighbor, "The car just backfired, did you hear it? Gave us quite a turn!" The Walrus-like man grinned psychotically, his face beat red, until all the neighbors averted their gazes and went back to their business.

"What the devil do you mean by making that horrendous noise, girl?" Vernon's voice quaked with anger.

"That wasn't me." Willow said flatly, looking around still.

Petunia's horsey face appeared in the window, "Why were you under our window?" She asked, teeth gritted.

"Excellent point, darling. Yes, why were you under our window?" Vernon repeated, his walrus face purple with anger.

"I was listening to the news." Willow sighed, preparing herself for the rage that was to come.

"The bloody news! Again?"

"It changes everyday, you know." Willow said smartly, pissing off her aunt and uncle even more.

"I want to know what you're really up to! Don't be clever with me, girl, you know perfectly well your lot wouldn't be on our news!"

"Shhh, Vernon," Petunia hissed, her eyes darting around the yard anxiously.

"That you know of." Willow replied, rolling her eyes.

"You nasty little liar," Petunia said, scrunching her nose up at Willow, she lowered her voice, "What are all those owls—" she spat the word out as if it tasted foul, "doing if they're not bringing you news?"

"Aha," Uncle Vernon said, "Find your way out of that one, girl. We know those birds bring—" he lowered his voice, "—your lot their news."

"The owls… aren't bringing me news." Willow replied after a moment, hiding her frustration and disappointment in this fact.

"Well I don't believe it." Aunt Petunia said instantly.

"Nor do I." Uncle Vernon said loudly, his bushy eyebrows narrowed.

"You're up to something funny," Petunia said snottily, glaring at her niece.

"We aren't stupid, you know." Vernon huffed.

"Well that's news to me," Willow said irritably before stomping away from her aunt and uncle and out the driveway before they could call out to her again.

Willow paced anxiously around Little Whinging, her thoughts racing over the noise that was surely someone Apparating or Disapparating. Perhaps Dobby was following her around Privet Drive? Maybe even right now? She glanced around curiously. Dobby wasn't able to become invisible, and he would surely have shown himself by now.

Maybe she was going crazy, and the sound was something muggle related. It was possible that she was so deprived of information that she was hearing things. Sure, she had a prescription to the Daily Prophet. However, as none of the idiots writing the paper seemed to realize that Voldemort was back, it was quite pointless for her to read anything other than the front page.

Hermione and Ron had been no help whatsoever. She couldn't help but feel jealous that they were in the loop, and more than anything they were together, while she rotted away at Privet Drive with her head stuck in the sand. Their letters had consisted of nothing but rubbage excuses for keeping her in the dark. "We're quite busy but I can't give you details here. . . ." "There's a fair amount going on, we'll tell you everything when we see you. . . ." Hermione had scribbled on her birthday card that they'd being seeing each other soon. But when? And why were Ron and Hermione busy while she did nothing all summer. Hadn't she been the one to battle Voldemort not once but three times and survive? Surely she was capable of handling whatever her friends were. The thought made her stomach turn with annoyance.

The only person who seemed to realize how she felt about being left in the dark was her godfather, Sirius. Although his letters were just as vague and meaningless.

"I know this must be frustrating for you. . . ." "Keep your nose clean and everything will be okay. . . ." "Be careful and don't do anything rash. . . ."

How was she not supposed to do anything rash, Sirius? She'd kept her nose clean thus far but many times had she considered packing her things and flying her Firebolt to The Burrow under her invisibility cloak. However, it was quite appalling that a man who had broken out of Azkaban and then escaped the dementors on a stolen Hippogriff was telling her not to be rash.

She felt so betrayed and angry at them all. Couldn't she be trusted? She was the one who saw Voldemort return. She was the one who saw Cedric murdered after being forced into a deadly competition of dragons, singing golden eggs, and surprise portkeys. Surely she deserved to be part of whatever was going on more than Hermione and Ron did.

She felt a lump in her throat as she saw the flash of green light and Cedric's empty eyes staring up at her. Willow had managed to block out the pain of losing Cedric Diggory by obsessing over Lord Voldemort's return and the thought of killing Wormtail for destroying all her chances of happiness and family.

However, she couldn't escape her dreams. Her dreams were only of Cedric and long dark corridors, all ending in locked doors and dead ends. Dark circles were a permanent part of her appearance since Voldemort's return and Cedric's death. She couldn't cry anymore. The sadness had all been replaced by rage.

How was she supposed to destroy Voldemort if she was being kept in the dark. Nobody would give her the smallest lick of information, and she was going absolutely insane. In fact, she had stopped writing them back as of late, due to the fact that not even Hedwig's incessant pecking she had ordered had made anyone crack with the slightest bit of news.

Willow plopped down onto the only unbroken swing at the neighborhood playground. Dudley and his ghastly friends had broken the remaining swings, as well as the teeter-totter.

Speak of the devil, a group of boys on loud racing bikes came into view. Willow recognized them immediately as Dudley and his gang of brute-like boys. She couldn't mistake the large-as-ever figure of her cousin, who had been even more violent and menacing to the neighborhood children after joining the boxing team.

Willow wanted nothing more than to torment Dudley and his friends, knowing deep down Dudley was scared of her because of various events, including Hagrid giving him a pig's tail when they were eleven, and Willow blowing up their Aunt Marge two years ago.

She sighed, watching as they drove by, half hoping they'd turn around and see her. Surely they'd harass her, as always. There you go, Sirius. Nothing rash. She thought bitterly, knowing damn well that her godfather wouldn't have taken the high road and never had a day in his life.

She got up from the swing and began the walk on Magnolia Road, towards Privet Drive. She scuffed her feet irritably against the sidewalk, lost in her angry thoughts. It was better to walk at night, when Willow didn't have to listen to the neighbors muttering about her delinquency.

When she reached the entrance to Magnolia Crescent, she saw Dudley and his friends saying farewell. She hid behind a tree and eavesdropped to their conversation about jumping a neighborhood kid.

"Later Big D!" One of Dudley's friends shouted as they all headed home, leaving Dudley alone with a hidden Willow. She walked behind Dudley for a moment before racing to catch up with him, all thoughts of keeping her nose clean flying out of her head.

"Hey Big D!" She yelled sarcastically, causing her cousin to turn in surprise.

"Oh," he grunted, "You."

"Me," Willow replied mockingly, "How long have you been 'Big D'?"

"Shut it," he snapped at Willow, turning away from his cousin.

"What a cool name," Willow grinned, enjoying bating Dudley. "You'll always be Ickle Diddlykins to me though."

Dudley's large meaty hands curled into fists, "I said SHUT IT, Potter."

"Oh, so the boys don't know what your mummy calls you, Big D?" Willow continued, still grinning in amusement as her cousin's face turned a purple similar to his father's. A look they both seemed to reserve for Willow.

"Shut your fucking face."

"Poppy? Dinky Diddydums? How about those? You don't tell mummy to shut her face, do you?"

Dudley didn't reply, however the shade of his face gave away that he was trying very hard not to hit his cousin.

"So who'd you beat up tonight?" Willow said, changing the subject. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago." Her smile twisted darkly.

"He was asking for it!" Dudley snapped, "He cheeked me!"

"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on it's hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Diddydums, that's facts. . ."

Dudley's jaw twitched furiously, giving Willow satisfaction that she was so obviously getting to him. She was using her cousin as an outlet for all her anger at the wizarding world and her friends.

They began walking down a narrow alleyway serving as a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was where Willow had first seen Sirius and mistaken him for the grim. There were no streetlights and it was very dark.

"You think you're so big and bad carrying that thing." Dudley said suddenly, causing Willow to smile slyly.

"What thing?" She asked.

"That—thing that you're hiding." He said.

"You're not as stupid as you look huh, Dud? Though I suppose if that were the case you wouldn't be walking and talking at the same time." Willow grinned and pulled out her wand.

"You aren't allowed," Dudley said immediately, staring at it out of the corner of his beady eye. "You'd get expelled from that freak school."

"Maybe the rules have changed." Willow said, eyeing her cousin amusedly.

"They haven't." Dudley said sharply, although his tone was unsure.

Willow chuckled.

"You're too scared to say shit to me without that thing, aren't you?" Dudley snarled.

"Says the one who needs four mates to back him up when jumping a ten-year-old," Willow snapped back, raising her brow.

"You just wait until I tell Dad you had that thing out in the open—"

"Typical Diddykins, running to daddy. Is the ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty little Willow and her big bad wand?"

"Not this brave at night, are you Willow?" Dudley said softly, changing the subject.

"Um, Dudley, this is night. That's what we call it when it gets all dark outside." Willow said slowly, as if talking to a child.

"I mean when you're in bed," Dudley said, his face morphing into a triumphant look when Willow stopped walking abruptly. "That's right, Potter. I heard you talking in your sleep last night. Moaning."

Willow froze, "What'd you mean, fatass?" She said. Last night she had dreamt of the graveyard, like she had every night.

Dudley let out an obnoxious laugh and mimicked Willow's voice in an exaggerated high pitched tone. "Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric! Who's Cedric—your ickle boyfriend?" He grinned.

"You're lying." Willow responded, dully. How else would Dudley know about Cedric. He had to be telling the truth.

"Save me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo-hoo!"

"Shut the fuck up, Dudley. I'm warning you." Willow said, her tone dangerously quietly.

"Come help me, Dad! Mum, help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to—' DON'T YOU POINT THAT AT ME!"

Willow had whipped out her wand and was holding it firmly to Dudley's throat. She backed him up against the alley wall. She hated Dudley, she could feel fourteen years worth of anger and abuse flowing through her veins, she wanted nothing more than to send a nasty jinx at him.

"Don't you ever talk about that again." Willow said, her tone deadly. "Do you understand me?"

"GET THAT AWAY—"

"I said, do you understand me?"

"POINT IT SOMEWHERE ELSE!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING—"

Dudley let out a strange shivering moan, as if being hit by a cold thrust of wind. Something had changed in the air, Willow could feel it. It was pitch black, the stars and moon were both gone. The air was icy, it had went from deathly hot to deathly cold in a matter of seconds.

Had she done accidental magic? No, that was silly. She didn't have the power to make the stars vanish. Willow peered her eyes, unable to see anything but complete darkness.

"S-stop it!" Dudley exclaimed "W-whatever you're doing, s-stop!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Willow hissed, "Shut up and stop bloody moving!"

"I-I've gone blind! I—"

"I said shut up!"

Willow was shivering uncontrollably and goosebumps spread up her arms. She had only felt this way in the presence of—they couldn't be here. It was impossible.

She listened for a sound, for anything, she'd be able to hear them first. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her spine was convulsing from intense shivers.

"I-I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered, "Where are you? Willow?"

"Dudley please shut the bloody hell up," Willow snapped, "I'm trying to listen—"

Willow fell completely silent as dread filled the pit of her stomach. How was this possible? Something was in the alleyway, breathing loudly and hoarsely, something inhuman. The air was freezing. If she could see, she knew she'd be able to see her breath.

"Cut it out!" Dudley cried "I-I'll hit you, I s-swear!"

"Dudley, shut—" A ham-like fist smacked the side of Willow's head, knocking her to the ground and her wand flying out of her hand.

"You fucking moron, Dudley!" Willow screeched, grasping around frantically in the dark for her wand.

Dudley's loud footsteps resonating through the alley as he ran directly towards the creatures.

"DUDLEY, STOP!" Willow bellowed, as she heard Dudley smack into the alley fence.

"Wand—wand where's my—" Willow finally felt her most prized position and fumbled it into her hand, "okay," she said, trying to calm herself, "okay—lumos!" The tip of Willow's wand ignited and she frantically spun around to face exactly what she was dreading.

The large black hooded figure was gliding directly towards her, it's dark robes shading its face as it hovered above the ground sucking the light straight out of the night.

She stumbled backward, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Willow bellowed, her spell only producing a small silver thread which briefly expelled from her wand before evaporating into the air. Panic flooded Willow's mind she needed to try again.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" She yelled desperately, her spell only slightly stronger than the last. The dementor reached its scabby long fingers towards her, attempting to grab her flesh. She needed to think of something happy. The creatures cold putrid breath was on her face, she was completely void of all happiness. She was going to die, she could hear the high-pitched laughter in her head as the dementor leant down to kiss her.

She would never see Ron and Hermione again.

She let her friend's faces fill her mind and cast the spell a third time, just as the Dementor's long gray hands closed around her throat.

"EXPECTO—PATRONUM!" Willow cried, and the enormous silver stag that was her patronus and her father's before her, shot out of the tip of her wand, causing the Dementor to drop her flat on her back immediately as the stag chased it away. "THIS WAY!" She yelled at the patronus, leading it down the alley towards her cousin. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!" She stood up and ran towards her cousin who was curled up in a ball on the floor of the alley, whimpering softly. The second Dementor was crouched over him, gripping his wrists and leaning its hooded face down to kiss him…

"GET IT!" Willow yelled, ushering the stag towards her cousin. The deer's antlers collided with the Dementor as it was inches from Dudley's face, just barely chasing the creature away in time. The dementors disappeared into the night, along with the stag.

The stars, moon, and neighboring streetlights returned, leaving Willow alone in the alley with a collapsed Dudley. Willow stood in complete shock for a moment, her mind reeling from dementors being in Little Whinging. Did Voldemort send them?

She began to bend down to see if Dudley was able to stand when footsteps sounded behind them.

"Don't put it away!" Mrs Figg bellowed at Willow, as she went to hide her wand from the old woman, "What if there are more? I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

The old woman was dressed in her slippers and night clothes, her frizzy grey hair pinned up on her head. Willow stared at her, unmoving. What the hell?

"What?" She responded dumbly after a moment of silence.

"He left!" The old woman continued, oblivious to the state of shock and confusion Willow was in, "to see someone about some damn cauldrons that fell off a broom! I told him I'd flay him if he left you unwatched! And now look, dementors, in Little Whinging! By Merlin, Dumbledore's going to kill him!"

"Dumbledore," Willow repeated immediately, "You know Dumbledore?"

"Of course I know Dumbledore, child. Who doesn't know Dumbledore? We have to get out of here, come along girl."

Willow remained rooted to the spot, "Are you a witch?" She asked, in awe.

"I'm a squib." Replied Mrs. Figg impatiently.

"Hang on," Willow said, "This Mundungus bloke was following me?" She said angrily, "He's the one who Disapparated in front of my house?"

"Yes," Figg said, "That bastard I warned him! He left you completely without cover—get up you useless lump! Get up!" The old woman began dragging on Dudley, who remained in a ball on the ground, making moaning noises. "He knew I'd be no help in a situation like this!" Figg continued angrily, still prodding at a whimpering Dudley. "Luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr. Tibbies came and warned me, but by the time I got to your house you had left!"

Willow continued to stare at Figg, her jaw on the ground.

"Don't just stand there! Help me get this boy up!" The old woman said hysterically, "Hurry up!"

Willow helped Mrs, Figg hoist up Dudley and the two of them began to drag his limp body back to Number Four Privet Drive.

"Keep your wand out! Don't worry about the Statute of Secrecy now, there's already going to be hell to pay. This is exactly what Dumbledore was worried about! Damn that Mundungus!"

Dudley was incapable of moving by himself, so Willow continued to drag him the entire way home, and was panting violently by the time they reached the next street.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a squib? When I'd go over to your house all the those times?" Willow asked quietly.

"Dumbledore's orders." Mrs. Figg replied, "How am I supposed to tell Dumbledore what happened! We have to act quickly, the ministry will know already Mark my words," she said darkly. "Where is Mundungus?! He was supposed to be here until midnight and I can't apparate—"

They were interrupted by a loud crack and the smell of alcohol and stale tobacco.

"MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" Figg screeched at the man who had just appeared. He was squat and unshaven with long straggly ginger hair. Willow thought he deeply resembled a basset hound because of his bloodshot droopy eyes.

"S'up Figgy," The man said before eyeing Willow and Dudley warily, "What happened to staying undercover?"

"Undercover!" Figg cried, "I'll give you undercover! Dementors you useless, conniving sneak thief!"

"Dementors?" Mundungus repeated, "Dementors, here? In Little Whinging?"

"YES! Yes, you worthless pile of bat dug, dementors here, attacked the girl on your watch!"

"Blimey—" the man looked from Figg to Willow, "Blimey I—"

"Didn't I tell you not to leave! Didn't I! Stolen cauldrons!"

"I—well—it was a very good business opportunity—"

Figg began hitting Mundungus with her hand bag repeatedly.

"GERROFF!" He yelled "You mad old bat! GERROFF ME! Somebody's got to tell Dumbledore!"

"YES—THEY—HAVE—AND—IT—BETTER—BE—YOU!" she continued smacking him relentlessly.

"Keep your 'airnet on I'm going—I'm going!" He stepped out of range of Mrs. Figg disappeared with another loud crack.

"I hope Dumbledore murders him." Figg said seriously, shaking her head at the spot where Mundungus just stood.

With that, Willow continued carrying a half conscious Dudley, her arms weak under his weight. She panted loudly the entire way back to the driveway.

I'll take you to the door," said Mrs. Figg, "Just in case there are more of them around. . . . Oh my word, what a catastrophe . . . and you had to fight them off yourself . . . and Dumbledore said we were to keep you from doing magic at all costs. . . . Well, it's no good crying over spilled potion, I suppose . . . but the cat's among the pixies now . . ."

"So," Willow let out a strangled breath, "Dumbledore's . . . been having . . . me followed?"

"Of course he has," said Mrs. Figg impatiently, fed up with Willow's questions. "Did you expect him to let you wander around on your own after what happened in June? Good Lord, girl, they told me you were intelligent. . . . Right . . . get inside and stay there," she said as they reached the front door. "I expect someone will be in touch with you soon enough."

"What are you going to do?" asked Willow frantically.

"I'm going straight home," said Mrs. Figg, looking around in the darkness and shivering. "I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I want to know —"But Mrs. Figg had already set off down the street, her carpet slippers scuffing the pavement.