She picked up the small, well-worn beaded bag and began packing: a tent, a portable potions lab that folded itself into a tidy wooden box, a roll of knives in all shapes and sizes, a pair of manacles, grenades, a beautiful cloak that looked like a starry night, and a broom with the word Firebolt on the side of the handle. She added the passport, credit card, and "Kill List,’ but left the airplane ticket. The bag made a satisfying clunk when it set on the table.