The small beaded bag she carried during the war tapped against her leg in a steady rhythm with each step closer. It was a bit worn, threadbare and missing a few beads from being stashed away in the back of her closet, but the extension charm was as sturdy as the day she cast it. She catalogued everything shoved inside; had she brought enough clothing? Did she pack enough books–or the right books? She listed each potion ingredient packed into phials and containers and stacked meticulously inside. Anything to keep her mind from wandering too far into the thoughts of where she was headed and the intentions behind this trip.