A/N: I've actually written a rough draft of this! Please R/R!
Disclaimer: All this belongs to JKR
Harry Potter stopped and wiped his forehead with a gloved hand. Leaning against his rake he surveyed the Dursleys' yard.
"If there's a leaf on that yard when I get back home, you'll be in your room for weeks!" Aunt Petunia had shrieked before leaving with Dudley for a dietician's office. Apparently the grapefruit diet hadn't lasted a year, and Dudley had gained another fifty pounds. After making a comment about sumo wrestling, Harry found himself charged with every chore in the house. The murderous godfather scare hadn't lasted too long, although they did allow him to write letters to his friends.
Harry's eyes wandered from the yard and came to rest on old Mrs. Figg's house. Ever since Dumbledore had mentioned an "Arabella Figg" as a member of the "old crowd," Harry couldn't shake the notion that old Mrs. Figg was, indeed, a witch. He hadn't been forced to stay at her house in a year, but he could still remember the cats.
Thinking of cats reminded him of Crookshanks. With a grin Harry returned to raking the yard. His bushy-haired friend Hermione Granger, Crookshanks's owner, had gone to London over the summer and was spending the last days of her vacation at the Burrow with Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley. Ron had recently written, although it sounded as though Hermione had badgered him into it. Harry reached into a pocket to read it:
Harry—
Hello there! I'm at the Burrow and absolutely nothing interesting has happened except that Crookshanks tried to eat Pig. Luckily Hermione stopped him. Oh, yes, all the garden gnomes have left because Crookshanks has eaten three of them. That cat is about as crazy as his owner. Can you believe Hermione thinks it's important to owl your friends every other day? I swear, the girl's insane! She's also trying to get me to finish my homework, as if it's due tomorrow. I try to tell her we've got two weeks to finish it and she acts like I've announced the Apocalypse is tomorrow and I'm not going to say good-bye to anyone! Honestly! The only up side to her presence is that I have someone to play chess against. She'll never beat me. There, I feel better now.
Anyway, all the girls in this house (Ginny, Mum, and Hermione) say I shouldn't waste time telling you what's going on in the wizarding world, but Dad says you ought to know. You-Know-Who (I know, I know) has been in hiding. All the reporters reckon he's up to some giant plan to take over the world. Oh, did I mention they interviewed Trelawny? HA! Blathering on about how you're doomed and then by your death we'll all be happy and all other sorts of b.s.
Hermione's yelling at me now about cursing and all sorts of other things I don't give a bloody damn about. Ha, I got a good reaction from that. Well, I suppose I'll go drive her crazy now. I do enjoy doing that.
Your friend,
Ron
Harry laughed and folded the letter up. Tucking it into his pocket, he reflected that no matter how annoyed he sounded, Ron was quite happy to have Hermione at his house. He wondered if there was more going on than Ron was letting on.
With Ron thusly occupied, Harry wondered how Ginny was faring. According to Ron they'd always been rather close. Funny, how thinking her name could set all sorts of ideas running through his head. He sighed and tried to push the redhead girl out of his mind. With another sigh he glanced at Mrs. Figg's house again, then picked up his rake and went back inside.
***
Ariadne Figg dropped the curtain she held and turned to her mother. "He's gone back inside. They can come now."
Arabella Figg nodded and threw a silver powder into the fire. Ariadne left the sweltering room before the Order arrived. Her mother never allowed her to be present during these meetings, allowing only that if she heard what they discussed, she would become a target herself.
After a moment the doorbell rang, showing that they had arrived. Ariadne pressed her ear against the closed door and wondered if her mother abandoned her 50-year-old woman pretense when she was around the other witches and wizards. When Ariadne realized the living room had been spelled to be soundproof, she sighed and slid to the floor, considering her limited options. Finally, she stood, went to her room, opened the window, checked the street, and pulled herself through. She landed heavily on the ground, then stood and brushed herself off, contemplating her freedom.
Whenever people saw her with her mother, she was quickly explained away as a niece, a part she fitted nicely, either when her mother was disguised or normal. Arabella's masquerade consisted of grey eyes and grey hair; in reality she had golden blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Ariadne, on the other hand, had straight ebony hair and bright, disconcertingly blue eyes. She had long ago realized and accepted that she took after her father in looks and that she would probably never find out whom he was. In a way, it was useful; nobody but Albus Dumbledore knew that Arabella Figg had a daughter and it had to stay that way for both their sakes.
Shaking her head, she took off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, breathing in the autumn air. Privet Drive was in a nice neighborhood, even if all the houses looked very much the same. Her sharp eyes took in everything; after living as a Secret Keeper's daughter, her suspicion levels were very high.
"Hey!" called a voice from behind her. Ariadne froze and slowly turned around. A lone figure stood in front of Number Four Privet Drive, waving. Regaining her calm, she strolled back.
"Hello," she said. "Harry, isn't it?"
The young man in front of her grinned. "Do my aunt and uncle yell that loud?" After laughing at his joke, he added, "I've seen you around…"
"Ariadne," she supplied. "I'm Mrs. Figg's niece."
"She looks old enough to be your grandmother."
"Well, you know." With a shrug she looked around. "What're you doing?"
"I was raking the yard." He sighed. "You don't see any extra leaves, do you?"
"No."
"Good. I'm under a threat of being locked in my room until school starts. But that's only two more weeks!" he added brightly. "September first!"
"Same here. Why would they lock you in your room?"
He shrugged. "My aunt's my mum's sister. They didn't like each other very much."
There was a lapse in conversation, as each considered this, which ended when Aunt Petunia's car pulled up in the driveway. Beady-eyed, she inspected her yard while Harry, Ariadne, and Dudley watched silently. Ariadne scrutinized her with revulsion.
Finally, she came back to Harry. "You got everything," Petunia said grudgingly. With a fake smile she turned to Ariadne. "Hello, dear. Would you like to come in for tea?"
"Sure," the girl replied with the same sickeningly sweet smile. Petunia steered Dudley into the house and seated her son and her guest at the kitchen table.
"Boy," she snapped at her nephew. Harry nodded dutifully and set the water on the stove. Petunia left after nudging Dudley and glancing at Ariadne. The black-haired boy finished the tea and served everyone. Ariadne sipped her tea, watching Harry over the rim of her cup. Half the girls in her year, and then some, would give everything to sit in her spot. She considered writing about the experience in second person and selling it at school. If she did that, she would have to pay attention. Harry's bright green eyes were staring into the distance and his tousled hair had been flattened very carefully on his forehead, making it nearly impossible for Ariadne to see his famous scar.
"So," said Dudley, breaking the silence with a nasty look at his cousin, "where's the cake?"
"You probably shouldn't have any," Harry retorted.
"I'll tell Mum."
`"And she'll say 'you can't wear the school knickerbockers anymore, so you can't have any cake.'"
Dudley's face purpled as he slunk off, leaving his half-drunk tea on the table. Harry sighed and cleaned it up, apparently unaware of Ariadne's eyes following him.
"Why do you put up with it?" she said finally.
He shrugged, his back to her. "I can't leave."
Ariadne knew why he couldn't. She had overheard Dumbledore talking to her mother and to Arthur Weasley, and she knew that Harry was only untouchable from his aunt and uncle's house. An unfair price to pay, she decided. Still, he seemed to survive. She smiled when he rummaged around in the cupboard and found a chocolate bar, which her offered to her genteelly. She took it, broke it in half, and handed half of it back to him. He sat down and started to eat his half, being very obvious about his stare.
"You're funny," he said finally.
Ariadne swallowed and lifted an eyebrow. "How so?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure, but there's something about you that reminds me—" Abruptly he stopped his eyes wide and his skin pale. One hand automatically went to his scar while the other gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Are you all right?" she said, concerned.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. Under his breath, nearly out of her hearing, he added, "He must be close."
Ariadne stood, dread rising in her stomach. "Perhaps I should go home," she said politely.
He nodded. "I'm sorry, but—"
"It's all right," she assured him. On impulse she kissed his cheek in a sisterly manner, hoping to distract him from his pain more than anything. Waving, she backed out of the kitchen, let herself out the front door, and set back to her house at a dead run. At the last second she remembered that she had to enter through her window. She slowly dropped to the floor and stood up, grabbing her wand. She snuck forward, out of her room, and arrived to find the sitting room door unlocked and open. She peeked in to see an empty room, and was just about to search the rest of the room when something caught her eye. Looking around cautiously, she studied the floor and gasped. The Dark Mark, its skull face leering at her as the snake crawled out, had been etched into the hardwood floor. She closed her mouth to hide her scream and left the room, running back to the Dursleys'.
As she ran, she calmed herself by deciding that the Order of the Phoenix had only been kidnapped, not killed, because otherwise their bodies would have been unceremoniously strewn across the room…Taking a deep breath, she pushed the image out of her mind, only to have names begin running through her head: Mundungus Fletcher, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Arabella Figg, Arthur Weasley…Weasley…Ginny, her closest friend at Hogwarts…She burst through the front door and into the sitting room, where the Dursleys were watching TV and ignoring Harry, who had also snuck in to watch.
"Ariadne?" Harry said.
She opened her mouth, intending to explain what had happened, but instead all she could say was, "They're gone. He got them. They're gone. They're gone."
"Who's gone?" Mr. Dursley demanded, enraged at the young hooligan who had burst into his sitting room during his favorite program.
"The Order," she managed.
Harry's face went blank. "The Order—?"
Suddenly the room was filled with popping. Twenty wizards appeared, including the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who first spotted Harry and went over to him.
"Thank God you're alive," he said, settling a hand on his shoulder, relived.
"Yeah, I'm all right," Harry said, bewildered. "My scar hurt a minute ago." Pointing at Ariadne, he added, "She's not okay."
Fudge turned. Ariadne had regained enough composure to shut her mouth, but she could now only stare up at the Minister—someone her mother regarded with an amount of distaste—with blank eyes. She had never been so frightened. Before Fudge could ask anything, the fireplace exploded and all the Weasleys except Charlie and Bill appeared, accompanied by Hermione Granger.
"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley gasped in relief.
"I'm sorry for interrupting Minister," Hermione added formally, "but Mr. Weasley's clock hand went from 'meeting' to 'mortal peril' and we thought we should come check on Harry."
"Where's Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, grasping Harry's hand.
"Gone," Ariadne broke in, regaining her senses. "They're gone. Harry said his scar hurt and I knew something was wrong so I went home and I climbed in through the window and went into the sitting room and when I got there everyone was gone and the Dark Mark was on the floor and I ran back here and—and I'm sorry!"
"Ariadne!" Ginny exclaimed, running over and throwing her arms around her friend's neck. "I didn't realize you and your aunt lived down here!"
"Uh, Ginny? Who is this?" Fred said.
"Explain yourself," Fudge said simultaneously.
"I'm Arabella Figg's niece, sir, Ariadne."
"She's in my year, in Gryffindor."
"I've met her, Minister, and I'll vouch for her," Mrs. Weasley added.
Fudge didn't look quite convinced, but Ariadne didn't care. One of the wizards tapped him on the shoulder and whispered something. Fudge nodded and straightened.
"Can you show us the scene of the crime?"
"Sure." Ariadne shrugged. Turning, she led them out of the house and back down to her house. Ginny ran to catch up.
"Hey! Mum's getting Harry' stuff. He's going to come stay with us."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll have lots of fun," Ariadne said knowingly. Ginny punched her lightly in the arm and blushed.
"Well, you know. Anyway, do you want to come too?"
She shrugged again. "I don't have anywhere else to go. The rest of my family is Muggle. Aunt Bella was the first witch." She opened the door to her house and immediately went to her room, refusing to look at the sitting room. Ginny followed her and helped her pack her trunk, watching her friend with concern.
"Will you be okay?"
Ariadne glanced over at her. "I guess—Aunt Bella's like my mother, you know? She's all I've got." After a pause, she added, "What about your dad?"
Ginny set her shoulders firmly. "I'll be all right. They're bound to find them soon, right?"
Ariadne nodded. "Right. Help me get this out of here." They dragged her trunk into the sitting room to find the rest of the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Fudge, eight of the wizards, and a large black dog. He was whining and sniffing around on the ground as two wizards guarded him.
"That's Snuffles, a neighborhood stray. He hangs out in our backyard," Ariadne said, frowning. "Can I bring him?"
"Sure," said Mrs. Weasley after a swift, undecipherable look at Harry and Ron. "Do you want to go first, dear? It's 'The Burrow.'"
Ariadne nodded and threw Floo powder into the fireplace. Pushing in her trunk, she grasped the dog's fur, walked into the fire, and shouted, "The Burrow!"
Disclaimer: All this belongs to JKR
Harry Potter stopped and wiped his forehead with a gloved hand. Leaning against his rake he surveyed the Dursleys' yard.
"If there's a leaf on that yard when I get back home, you'll be in your room for weeks!" Aunt Petunia had shrieked before leaving with Dudley for a dietician's office. Apparently the grapefruit diet hadn't lasted a year, and Dudley had gained another fifty pounds. After making a comment about sumo wrestling, Harry found himself charged with every chore in the house. The murderous godfather scare hadn't lasted too long, although they did allow him to write letters to his friends.
Harry's eyes wandered from the yard and came to rest on old Mrs. Figg's house. Ever since Dumbledore had mentioned an "Arabella Figg" as a member of the "old crowd," Harry couldn't shake the notion that old Mrs. Figg was, indeed, a witch. He hadn't been forced to stay at her house in a year, but he could still remember the cats.
Thinking of cats reminded him of Crookshanks. With a grin Harry returned to raking the yard. His bushy-haired friend Hermione Granger, Crookshanks's owner, had gone to London over the summer and was spending the last days of her vacation at the Burrow with Harry's best friend, Ron Weasley. Ron had recently written, although it sounded as though Hermione had badgered him into it. Harry reached into a pocket to read it:
Harry—
Hello there! I'm at the Burrow and absolutely nothing interesting has happened except that Crookshanks tried to eat Pig. Luckily Hermione stopped him. Oh, yes, all the garden gnomes have left because Crookshanks has eaten three of them. That cat is about as crazy as his owner. Can you believe Hermione thinks it's important to owl your friends every other day? I swear, the girl's insane! She's also trying to get me to finish my homework, as if it's due tomorrow. I try to tell her we've got two weeks to finish it and she acts like I've announced the Apocalypse is tomorrow and I'm not going to say good-bye to anyone! Honestly! The only up side to her presence is that I have someone to play chess against. She'll never beat me. There, I feel better now.
Anyway, all the girls in this house (Ginny, Mum, and Hermione) say I shouldn't waste time telling you what's going on in the wizarding world, but Dad says you ought to know. You-Know-Who (I know, I know) has been in hiding. All the reporters reckon he's up to some giant plan to take over the world. Oh, did I mention they interviewed Trelawny? HA! Blathering on about how you're doomed and then by your death we'll all be happy and all other sorts of b.s.
Hermione's yelling at me now about cursing and all sorts of other things I don't give a bloody damn about. Ha, I got a good reaction from that. Well, I suppose I'll go drive her crazy now. I do enjoy doing that.
Your friend,
Ron
Harry laughed and folded the letter up. Tucking it into his pocket, he reflected that no matter how annoyed he sounded, Ron was quite happy to have Hermione at his house. He wondered if there was more going on than Ron was letting on.
With Ron thusly occupied, Harry wondered how Ginny was faring. According to Ron they'd always been rather close. Funny, how thinking her name could set all sorts of ideas running through his head. He sighed and tried to push the redhead girl out of his mind. With another sigh he glanced at Mrs. Figg's house again, then picked up his rake and went back inside.
***
Ariadne Figg dropped the curtain she held and turned to her mother. "He's gone back inside. They can come now."
Arabella Figg nodded and threw a silver powder into the fire. Ariadne left the sweltering room before the Order arrived. Her mother never allowed her to be present during these meetings, allowing only that if she heard what they discussed, she would become a target herself.
After a moment the doorbell rang, showing that they had arrived. Ariadne pressed her ear against the closed door and wondered if her mother abandoned her 50-year-old woman pretense when she was around the other witches and wizards. When Ariadne realized the living room had been spelled to be soundproof, she sighed and slid to the floor, considering her limited options. Finally, she stood, went to her room, opened the window, checked the street, and pulled herself through. She landed heavily on the ground, then stood and brushed herself off, contemplating her freedom.
Whenever people saw her with her mother, she was quickly explained away as a niece, a part she fitted nicely, either when her mother was disguised or normal. Arabella's masquerade consisted of grey eyes and grey hair; in reality she had golden blonde hair and dark blue eyes. Ariadne, on the other hand, had straight ebony hair and bright, disconcertingly blue eyes. She had long ago realized and accepted that she took after her father in looks and that she would probably never find out whom he was. In a way, it was useful; nobody but Albus Dumbledore knew that Arabella Figg had a daughter and it had to stay that way for both their sakes.
Shaking her head, she took off down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, breathing in the autumn air. Privet Drive was in a nice neighborhood, even if all the houses looked very much the same. Her sharp eyes took in everything; after living as a Secret Keeper's daughter, her suspicion levels were very high.
"Hey!" called a voice from behind her. Ariadne froze and slowly turned around. A lone figure stood in front of Number Four Privet Drive, waving. Regaining her calm, she strolled back.
"Hello," she said. "Harry, isn't it?"
The young man in front of her grinned. "Do my aunt and uncle yell that loud?" After laughing at his joke, he added, "I've seen you around…"
"Ariadne," she supplied. "I'm Mrs. Figg's niece."
"She looks old enough to be your grandmother."
"Well, you know." With a shrug she looked around. "What're you doing?"
"I was raking the yard." He sighed. "You don't see any extra leaves, do you?"
"No."
"Good. I'm under a threat of being locked in my room until school starts. But that's only two more weeks!" he added brightly. "September first!"
"Same here. Why would they lock you in your room?"
He shrugged. "My aunt's my mum's sister. They didn't like each other very much."
There was a lapse in conversation, as each considered this, which ended when Aunt Petunia's car pulled up in the driveway. Beady-eyed, she inspected her yard while Harry, Ariadne, and Dudley watched silently. Ariadne scrutinized her with revulsion.
Finally, she came back to Harry. "You got everything," Petunia said grudgingly. With a fake smile she turned to Ariadne. "Hello, dear. Would you like to come in for tea?"
"Sure," the girl replied with the same sickeningly sweet smile. Petunia steered Dudley into the house and seated her son and her guest at the kitchen table.
"Boy," she snapped at her nephew. Harry nodded dutifully and set the water on the stove. Petunia left after nudging Dudley and glancing at Ariadne. The black-haired boy finished the tea and served everyone. Ariadne sipped her tea, watching Harry over the rim of her cup. Half the girls in her year, and then some, would give everything to sit in her spot. She considered writing about the experience in second person and selling it at school. If she did that, she would have to pay attention. Harry's bright green eyes were staring into the distance and his tousled hair had been flattened very carefully on his forehead, making it nearly impossible for Ariadne to see his famous scar.
"So," said Dudley, breaking the silence with a nasty look at his cousin, "where's the cake?"
"You probably shouldn't have any," Harry retorted.
"I'll tell Mum."
`"And she'll say 'you can't wear the school knickerbockers anymore, so you can't have any cake.'"
Dudley's face purpled as he slunk off, leaving his half-drunk tea on the table. Harry sighed and cleaned it up, apparently unaware of Ariadne's eyes following him.
"Why do you put up with it?" she said finally.
He shrugged, his back to her. "I can't leave."
Ariadne knew why he couldn't. She had overheard Dumbledore talking to her mother and to Arthur Weasley, and she knew that Harry was only untouchable from his aunt and uncle's house. An unfair price to pay, she decided. Still, he seemed to survive. She smiled when he rummaged around in the cupboard and found a chocolate bar, which her offered to her genteelly. She took it, broke it in half, and handed half of it back to him. He sat down and started to eat his half, being very obvious about his stare.
"You're funny," he said finally.
Ariadne swallowed and lifted an eyebrow. "How so?"
He shrugged. "I'm not sure, but there's something about you that reminds me—" Abruptly he stopped his eyes wide and his skin pale. One hand automatically went to his scar while the other gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Are you all right?" she said, concerned.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. Under his breath, nearly out of her hearing, he added, "He must be close."
Ariadne stood, dread rising in her stomach. "Perhaps I should go home," she said politely.
He nodded. "I'm sorry, but—"
"It's all right," she assured him. On impulse she kissed his cheek in a sisterly manner, hoping to distract him from his pain more than anything. Waving, she backed out of the kitchen, let herself out the front door, and set back to her house at a dead run. At the last second she remembered that she had to enter through her window. She slowly dropped to the floor and stood up, grabbing her wand. She snuck forward, out of her room, and arrived to find the sitting room door unlocked and open. She peeked in to see an empty room, and was just about to search the rest of the room when something caught her eye. Looking around cautiously, she studied the floor and gasped. The Dark Mark, its skull face leering at her as the snake crawled out, had been etched into the hardwood floor. She closed her mouth to hide her scream and left the room, running back to the Dursleys'.
As she ran, she calmed herself by deciding that the Order of the Phoenix had only been kidnapped, not killed, because otherwise their bodies would have been unceremoniously strewn across the room…Taking a deep breath, she pushed the image out of her mind, only to have names begin running through her head: Mundungus Fletcher, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Arabella Figg, Arthur Weasley…Weasley…Ginny, her closest friend at Hogwarts…She burst through the front door and into the sitting room, where the Dursleys were watching TV and ignoring Harry, who had also snuck in to watch.
"Ariadne?" Harry said.
She opened her mouth, intending to explain what had happened, but instead all she could say was, "They're gone. He got them. They're gone. They're gone."
"Who's gone?" Mr. Dursley demanded, enraged at the young hooligan who had burst into his sitting room during his favorite program.
"The Order," she managed.
Harry's face went blank. "The Order—?"
Suddenly the room was filled with popping. Twenty wizards appeared, including the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, who first spotted Harry and went over to him.
"Thank God you're alive," he said, settling a hand on his shoulder, relived.
"Yeah, I'm all right," Harry said, bewildered. "My scar hurt a minute ago." Pointing at Ariadne, he added, "She's not okay."
Fudge turned. Ariadne had regained enough composure to shut her mouth, but she could now only stare up at the Minister—someone her mother regarded with an amount of distaste—with blank eyes. She had never been so frightened. Before Fudge could ask anything, the fireplace exploded and all the Weasleys except Charlie and Bill appeared, accompanied by Hermione Granger.
"Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley gasped in relief.
"I'm sorry for interrupting Minister," Hermione added formally, "but Mr. Weasley's clock hand went from 'meeting' to 'mortal peril' and we thought we should come check on Harry."
"Where's Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley demanded, grasping Harry's hand.
"Gone," Ariadne broke in, regaining her senses. "They're gone. Harry said his scar hurt and I knew something was wrong so I went home and I climbed in through the window and went into the sitting room and when I got there everyone was gone and the Dark Mark was on the floor and I ran back here and—and I'm sorry!"
"Ariadne!" Ginny exclaimed, running over and throwing her arms around her friend's neck. "I didn't realize you and your aunt lived down here!"
"Uh, Ginny? Who is this?" Fred said.
"Explain yourself," Fudge said simultaneously.
"I'm Arabella Figg's niece, sir, Ariadne."
"She's in my year, in Gryffindor."
"I've met her, Minister, and I'll vouch for her," Mrs. Weasley added.
Fudge didn't look quite convinced, but Ariadne didn't care. One of the wizards tapped him on the shoulder and whispered something. Fudge nodded and straightened.
"Can you show us the scene of the crime?"
"Sure." Ariadne shrugged. Turning, she led them out of the house and back down to her house. Ginny ran to catch up.
"Hey! Mum's getting Harry' stuff. He's going to come stay with us."
"Oh, I'm sure you'll have lots of fun," Ariadne said knowingly. Ginny punched her lightly in the arm and blushed.
"Well, you know. Anyway, do you want to come too?"
She shrugged again. "I don't have anywhere else to go. The rest of my family is Muggle. Aunt Bella was the first witch." She opened the door to her house and immediately went to her room, refusing to look at the sitting room. Ginny followed her and helped her pack her trunk, watching her friend with concern.
"Will you be okay?"
Ariadne glanced over at her. "I guess—Aunt Bella's like my mother, you know? She's all I've got." After a pause, she added, "What about your dad?"
Ginny set her shoulders firmly. "I'll be all right. They're bound to find them soon, right?"
Ariadne nodded. "Right. Help me get this out of here." They dragged her trunk into the sitting room to find the rest of the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Fudge, eight of the wizards, and a large black dog. He was whining and sniffing around on the ground as two wizards guarded him.
"That's Snuffles, a neighborhood stray. He hangs out in our backyard," Ariadne said, frowning. "Can I bring him?"
"Sure," said Mrs. Weasley after a swift, undecipherable look at Harry and Ron. "Do you want to go first, dear? It's 'The Burrow.'"
Ariadne nodded and threw Floo powder into the fireplace. Pushing in her trunk, she grasped the dog's fur, walked into the fire, and shouted, "The Burrow!"