Arabella Figg
Book #4 |
COMPILED BY WILLOW SEVERN
willowsevern@yahoo.com |
Harry had never been camping in his life; the Dursleys
had never taken him on any kind of holiday, preferring to leave him with
Mrs. Figg, an old neighbor. However, he and Hermione worked out where most
of the poles and pegs should go, and though Mr. Weasley was more of a hindrance
than a help, because he got thoroughly overexcited when it came to using
the mallet, they finally managed to erect a pair of shabby two-man tents.
Harry bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt his jaw drop. He
had walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three room flat, complete
with bathroom and kitchen. Oddly enough, it was furnished in exactly the
same sort of style as Mrs. Figg's house: There were crocheted covers on
the mismatched chairs and a strong smell of cats.
"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping
between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's
attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you
to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus
Fletcher - the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact
you there."