"So... where are we going?" Neville asked, looking out of the window of the taxi. He was in the front seat - Narcissa and Alyssa sad huddled in the back. Narcissa did not look well - Neville couldn't decide whether it was the distinctly non-magical motion of the vehicle as it bumped along the French country lanes, or the smell of unwashed feet and cigarettes that permeated the car. The driver glanced at the map Narcissa had given him and made a sharp turn. Neville saw Narcissa turn slightly green in the rear veiw mirror.