The clouds continued to linger even after the rains had stopped, leading the two young men to think they might want to find some sort of shelter. Tom led the way with a confident stride, while Abraxas trailed far behind.
Eventually they spotted a crumbling old barn with an ancient windmill that didn't look as if was able to turn anymore. Tom's hope of finding food diminished as they drew nearer.
"I doubt anyone has been here in years," said Abraxas with a dismal sigh. "I think we may be in Muggle territory."
"Yes, I believe so," Tom agreed. "There's a decided lack of magic here."
"I hope the place has some kind of food left over," Abraxas grumbled.
They stepped through the doorway and Tom grabbed the door to pull it closed. The hinges squeaked noisily all the way, and the wooden pieces flattered together as it closed.
"Who is there?" came a woman's voice. A very familiar one.
"Hermione?" Tom called, his voice catching in his throat as he turned to look for her. She was