You all head straight for the dense forest that hugs the clearing. You don't think, you just run, the rucksack heavy on your back, the axe's handle getting slippery in your grip, your wand held tightly in your hand as if it's a part of you. You can hear both Harry and Hermione breathing heavily as they run up a steep embankment. Harry puts his arm out to stop you and Hermione from going any further. He bends over at the waist, trying to catch his breath. You think about dropping the axe to wipe at your forehead with your sleeve. You've been running for hours. At least, that's how it feels.

"Look," Harry says, pointing out over the trees before bending back over, still unsuccessful in catching his breath. You can see a clear path leading to the place where you started, but you're miles away from there, near the outer edge of the forest in an area encroaching onto an intimidating landscape of craggy cliffs and jagged rocks.

"I think we're safe for now," Hermione says, dropping her rucksack and sitting on a medium-sized boulder.

"I think so, too." You sink the blade of the battle axe into the ground and drop your rucksack as well. "Do you think they were nice enough to pack us a couple of tins of biscuits?" you wonder, reaching for the flap of your rucksack, ready to ferret out whatever supplies you were lucky enough to pick up in that mess.

"Always thinking with your stomach - even when faced with death. Why am I not surprised in the slightest?" Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

"Don't know about biscuits, but I think I got a tent here," Harry says, pulling a long, wrapped canvas object with connected metal and plastic bits out of his own rucksack.

"Mate, that's not a tent," you inform him as you fish a bottle intended for water out of your bag.

"Hate to break it to you, but I think we're meant to use this. And yes, Ron, it's a tent. It's a Muggle tent."

You drop the bottle back into your sack and stare at the silly, non-magical piece of fabric. Muggles sure are weird.

"It's not important, Ron. We'll set it up later," Hermione says and you can't help but feel like you're being brushed off. "We need to start looking for something McGonagall hinted to be in the area."

"Oh, well, that's just fantastic," you pout (something you're quite good at). "Hagrid tells me how to make fire by rubbing sticks together, but you get all sorts of clues about magical objects or whatever!"

"Starting a fire the non-magical way is a good skill to have, Ron. What if your wand had been taken? What if someone had taken all the wands before we'd gotten there? You'd be glad to know how to make fire by rubbing two sticks together then, right?"

"Blimey, Hermione, what ifs aren't going to get us anywhere," Harry says, putting the odd Muggle tent back into his rucksack.

"Pardon me, but thinking about the subjunctive helps me focus on what has happened. Either way, we have to look for the object." She ambles up from her rock and then steps on top of it, trying to get a better view of the clearing down below.

"It? What is it?" you ask. "Ah, brilliant, biscuits," you smile, removing a newly found packet out of your rucksack.

"A mirror of Foe-Glass," she states, hands on hips, looking ever the more like a Head Girl-in-training, even out of her uniform.

"What good is that going to do us? We already know who we're up against," you say, popping the lid from the tin and picking out a sweet-smelling biscuit.

"Yes, but it can tell us when a true enemy is close. We'll be one step ahead of them and that's a colossal advantage."

"All right then. Where do we find it?" Harry asks, putting his rucksack back on, ready to hoof it. The biscuit goes from sweet and moist to almost chokingly like sawdust in your mouth.

Should you:
A.) Go look for the Foe-Glass mirror
or
B.) Keep going and set up camp