"Inverness?" she repeated, incredulous. "You apparated us from Southampton to Inverness? In Scotland?" She knew of no other Inverness, but still could hardly believe it. "That's the whole length of the British Isles. We could have been killed. I'm amazed neither of us was splinched. What are you, a professional apparator?"

This was not a serious question, of course. There was no such profession, unless one counted test officials at the Ministry, and she doubted anyone would have let this gentleman work at the Ministry with his hair the way it was.

She was, she realized, being a bit unfair (some might have said hysterical) considering that this gentleman had first attempted to save her life and then shortly after to save her honor. He might have been discovered with little consequence; that was the way the world worked. It was easier for men. Yet here he was — in Scotland, of all the ridiculous places to be.

She looked around at the snow and the weeds and the nothing that surrounded them. This was a far cry from London. She glanced back at the gentleman and the state of his shirt — saw him shiver.

"You're cold," she observed. She made no move to return his jacket.