𝟏𝟓𝟐 - 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

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Harry and Hermione crouched down with the invisibility cloak thrown over the both of them, as they craned their necks to witness firsthand what exactly "the usual" was for Ron and Ophelia, through the netted curtains they could just about make out Xenophilius making his way down the cobbled and overgrown garden path towards the front gate, even from here they could make out his trembling hands as he grasped onto the gate to steady himself.

With nothing but great open fields surrounding them, they began to wonder what exactly the pair had planned, there was nowhere for them to hide, and there was no room to sneak up on them -- no sooner had Xenophilis set aside his fear and straightened his back came the black smoke billowing down from the clouds, they appeared quickly and all at once; a group of men all cloaked head to toe in black descended onto the plain grass, Harry counted four of them ranging from all builds, all ages and all of them were visibly irritated at the sight of Xenophilius.

"Told you we didn't need to rush." said one of them as they climbed up the path towards the gate, "What is it this time? You got another useless relic you want to trade for your daughter?"

"I have Harry Potter!" cried Xenophilius, "Inside! I have him drugged, he's asleep on the--!"

They all burst out laughing.

"You're having me on," said one as he looked between his compadres then back at Xenophilius, "I think you've finally gone around the bend!"

"Please," begged Xenophilius, "Just come look, he's inside alright!"

"Look there!" Exclaimed Hermione, pointing to something just below the window, Harry peered down and spotted something odd — a clear shimmering shadow that was transparent but oddly Ron shaped, "He's using a disillusionment charm, quite well I must add — now what are they up to?"

Ophelia had yet to make her appearance.

All of a sudden the group of men were sent flying forwards, their bodies crashed roughly and painfully into the dirt as their wands flew out of their grip far into the grass, Ophelia, who seemingly materialised from the air, calmly bent down to gather them all into her hand as the four of them stared up from the ground at her, her face was nothing but a shadow in the purple twilight haze that shrouded the sky behind her.

Harry and Hermione could see the terror on their faces from their spot at the window as though they knew that merely being in front of her spelt nothing but trouble for them, no sooner as they gathered their wits about them Ron had begun to cast full body-binding spells onto each of them so they simply had no choice but to stay put, he was making it way through them as Ophelia approached them.

"Evening lads," she said casually as she rolled up her sleeves, "Nice weather we're having."

"Go to hell!" said one of them, leaning forward as though he was going to jump up to choke the life from her, Ophelia didn't so much as flinch when she pointed four wands at him to stun him into oblivion, four stunning spells to the chest was enough to not only send the man crashing onto his back but to knock him out.

"Let's try this again shall we," she said as she reached behind her ear to pull the cigarette tucked behind it, lighting it they finally caught a glimpse of her face in the flickering glow of the cigarette end as she let it dangle between her lips as she crouched down to their level so she was eye level with each of them, "I'm sure by now you understand how this is going to work, one of you is going to tell me what I want to know while the others decide what exactly they'll be doing with their lives if by some miracle I decide to let you go."

"You'll let us go." said Travers, "You don't have it in you to kill us."

"That so." said Ophelia in a cold voice as smoke seeped out of her nostrils, "Well you'd be right, I don't see the point in killing you, once you're dead you're useless to me, as they say dead men tell no tales," she laughed through her nose, dead men definitely told all the tales but they didn't need to know that, "But what I can do, is a lot worse than death, see, I can make you lame, I can make you dumb or I can make you mad... or I let you go as you are under the promise that if I see you under these circumstances again -- I will not be so forgiving."

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫Where stories live. Discover now