If it weren't for logic telling him he was not, he would have sworn his body was aflame. The humidity and heat meant that he had to use twice the energy to breathe, and he could taste the sweat as they dripped down from his forehead. The only saving grace was the sudden presence of Mrs. Bones—and Merlin was she beautiful, even when she looked terrified. (Arguably she looked even more appealing, as her fear meant he could be her savior!)

He reached out and squeezed the hand on her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

"Not at all, Mrs. Bones," he breathed (or wheezed, in this case). "I hope that—"

He could hear rustling around them, but wasn't sure if there was another person or a creature there.

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