We'll somewhere more sheltered

Chapter Nineteen

The Silver Doe

        It was snowing by the time Hermione took over the watch at midnight. Harry's
dreams were confused and disturbing: Nagini wove in and out of them, first through a
wreath of Christmas roses. He woke repeatedly, panicky, convinced that somebody had
called out to him in the distance, imagining that the wind whipping around the tent was
footsteps or voices.
        Finally he got up in the darkness and joined Hermione, who was huddled in the
entrance to the tent reading A History of Magic by the light of her wand. The snow was
falling thickly, and she greeted with relief his suggestion of packing up early and moving
on.
        "We'll somewhere more sheltered," she agreed, shivering as she pulled on a
sweatshirt over her pajamas. "I kept thinking I could hear people moving outside. I even
though I saw somebody one or twice."

        Harry paused in the act of pulling on a jumper and glanced at the silent,
motionless Sneakoscope on the table.
        "I'm sure I imagined it," said Hermione, looking nervous. "The snow the dark, it
plays tricks on your eyes.... But perhaps we ought to Disapparate under the Invisibility
Cloak, just in case?"
        Half an hour later, with the tent packed, Harry wearing the Horcrux, and
Hermione clutching the beaded bag, they Disapparated. The usual tightness engulfed
them; Harry's feet parted company with the snowy ground, then slammed hard onto what
felt like frozen earth covered in leaves.
        "Where are we?" he asked, peering around at the fresh mass of trees as Hermione
opened the beaded bag and began tugging out the tent poles.
        "The Forest of Dean," she said, "I came camping here once with my mum and
dad."