Magic without a wand is always tricky. Where charms rely so heavily on posture and intonation, where potions require a deft hand to cast the cauldron ladle or a mortar in just the right way even apart from memorization. Most witches and wizards cannot manage without their wands. Even the runes Hermione uses were charmed by her wand at some point. The missing piece of her now held hostage by Winter's clutches.

Hermione may have always struggled with divination and scrying but arithmancy offers a work around for those shortcomings. Using logic in the place of listening to the unknown. All one needs is the proper formula. For a magical item Hermione herself charmed in the first place locating such a thing should not be beyond her.

And yet, the runes do not give her a straight path. The witch will find herself retracing her own steps through the snow more than once. Doubling back on her old paths until the chill is felt in her fingertips, in her ears. Until her breath hurts her lungs with every inhale. They do eventually bring her further into the old shopping district, to a burned out building that has a hint of a firelight visible through a crack in the boarded up windows.

Hermione will hear movement inside...but before she can finish digging out the door to get it open a man in a threadbare cloak pushes it open with a suspicious frown stamped onto his features.

"I'm not taking anyone else in." His voice is stern, raised loud enough to be heard over the wind. "You'll have to find shelter elsewhere."