Edric could feel sweat droplets forming on his forehead, but made no comment. The summer months were always bad, and he wasn't familiar enough with the outskirts of Swallowbury (or even Hogsmeade, given that most of his time spent there was on work-related matters) to know whether or not the climate was usually this awful.

There was, however, something a little off about the sound of the thunder. Maybe it lingered a little too long, or maybe the grumbling seemed more alive than something caused by regular weather patterns.

He eyed the other men. "I don't suppose any of you brought your mothers' frilly parasols?" he joked quietly as they approached what seemed to be the forest's edge.

---