"No," she said. "We're in Hogsmeade." And then, in case it somehow wasn't evident that they were standing in a richly appointed room at the moment. "Wellingtonshire, specifically."

She didn't know what to do[i] here. She looked past the man--Mr. Carmichael--toward the windows. If the floo wasn't working, he couldn't leave the way he came, and she wasn't going to send someone, even a stranger, out in [i]this. She was perfectly aware of what could become of a person caught in such weather.

And well. He didn't seem like he was going to do her bodily harm. "You might as well have a seat."

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