The last thing that Kate wanted to do, so soon after their debut in the paper, was to venture out into the town. She was frightened to imagine what might happen to them if they were recognized by even one person — and most likely Isaac would be recognized by everyone. Everyone, at least, who read The Daily Prophet. Still, she saw the danger of trying to keep Isaac cooped up in their little house indefinitely. Besides, he was missing his journal since they'd arrived in England, and she didn't have the heart to deny the boy anything that it was in her power to give.

So here they were, out in England for the first time. The street was busy enough, but everything was so different from what Kate was used to seeing in the open-air marketplaces and stalls of Morocco. The cold, too, was something she only barely remembered from her youth. The frost clinging here and there to the shingles of the roofs or the cobbles of the road looked like something from a fairy tale, as though Hogsmeade had been drawn in a book and then forced to life with a spell that was working bit by bit.

All of the stores looked the same from her perspective. How were they supposed to know where to find a new journal? She had no idea, but she was loathe to ask someone. So far they had gone undetected (or at least, no one had been bold enough to speak to them if they were recognized), but she didn't want to invite a conversation by seeking out directions.

"I suppose we just have to peer into all the windows?" Kate speculated, looking over the storefronts as she clutched Isaac's hand tightly.