Skirmish Ⅱ

Miles away past the dense forest on the outskirts of the woodland is a small farming community. Under the light of a waxing moon on the outskirts of the village is a simple cottage the nearest neighbor to the farms spread around the village. An elderly witch in a nightgown shivered as she gazes at the frost-covered window. She wraps her night shawl that much tighter around her, before tossing another log into the fireplace to warm the house.

"Mr. Colgate," Mrs. Colgate called to her husband, who was in the bathroom. "Just what are you doing that's taking so long?"

"Trimming my nose hairs," Mr. Colgate shouted from behind the door to the water closet.

"Finally," Mrs. Colgate grumbled, "I've been telling you for weeks that it looks like the back end of a horse's rear is sticking out from each of your nostrils. It's simply most unsanitary!"

Mrs. Colgate returned to her chair and pulled down the knitted throw and pulled it over her legs to warm up. Mr. Colgate emerges from the loo drying his hands on his trousers. "It's getting late and we are running low on wood," Mr. Colgate indicated to the low neatly stacked of wood next to the fireplace. "I'll be right back with more," he said moving towards the hooks on the wall.

"Be quick about it, it's late," Mrs. Colgate said with some worry in her voice.

"Yes, dear," Mr. Colgate responded quickly donning on a coat, scarf, and a tweed cap. Pausing only to slip on some boots, he stomps loudly, before opening the front door. Frigid air pours in, before he hastily closes the door behind him before his wife shouts.

Mrs. Colgate glares at the closed door and pulls the knitted afghan higher until her chin. She begins to warm up and starts to feel drowsy when a loud knock is heard at the door. "Jim?" She called out but did not hear an immediate response. "He must have locked himself out again," she muttered to herself and unhappily rose from her warm cocoon.

Still grumbling, Mrs. Colgate hurried to the door. "Jim how many times-," she halted mid-tirade in shock at finding a tall, pale, muscular dark-haired wizard with broad shoulders in her doorway.

"Good evening, madam," said, the tall dark stranger with a stream gleam in his dark eyes.

Unconsciously, Mrs. Colgate takes a step back and says, "Yes, how can I help you?"

"Your husband seems to be lying down in the snow," the tall dark stranger pointed to the shed in the nearby distance.

"Jim!" Mrs. Colgate gasped rushing past the stranger and out into the snow still wearing indoor slippers. She hurried towards the fallen figure of her husband lying face down in the snow. She hurriedly turns him around, his eyes are empty and glaze, but even worse his neck awkwardly flops at an angle. His neck had clearly broken in half.

Mrs. Colgate stifled a pained gasp before her eyes naturally fell on her husband's neck. With the full moon not far off, the waxing gibbous was still rather bright. Dark shadows could be seen on her husband's neck, bruises that had not been there before. A sense of fear creeps down her spine as she recalls having clearly run out of the house having left her wand on the table stand next to her chair.

Trying to hide her fear, Mrs. Colgate slowly rose to her feet. "Thank you, young man, for your aid," she carefully said. "You never did say what your name was, sir."

"Antonin Dolohov," the stranger said with a twisted smile spreading on his lips.

There was just something awful about the stranger's grin. "Thank again, Mr. Dolohov," Mrs. Colgate said, "Now if you would excuse me, I have funeral arrangements to prepare."

"Actually, there is something," Dolohov said taking a step towards the petite elderly witch. "I was wondering if you would answer a question or two of mine." Mrs. Colgate take a step back as Dolohov continued closer. "You see your husband was not much of help at all."

"Incarcerous!" Dolohov said as thick ropes were conjured from thin air binding the elderly witch.

"Help!" Mrs. Colgate cried out in desperation hoping that a neighbor would hear her cry.

"Please do cry louder," Dolohov earnestly said. "The more villagers that can hear your cries, the more entertaining this night will be."

A stifled sob of fear and heartache escapes from Mrs. Colgate's lips. "What do you want with us? Why have done you no wrong, sir! We have never set eyes on you until this very night!"

"Mrs. Colgate, I merely have a few questions that need to be answered," Dolohov replied, "and then I will be on my merry way. However, your husband was less than forthcoming, and my friend was most displeased." He grimaced in distaste at the usage of 'friend.'

"Mad man!" Mrs. Colgate spat believing the vile wizard before her to be utterly insane.

Dolohov begins to look bored but refrains from killing the witch out of reflex. He hated boring prey most of all. He'd rather let clever prey escape to be played with another time. "Mrs. Colgate, I have been told that a muggle farmer, a Mr. Hagrid resided in these parts decades ago."

Mrs. Colgate's eyes flashed in recognition at the name. "I see you recognize the name," Dolohov observed, "Then this should make the rest that much easier. I am told that he took a giantess for a wife by the name of Fridwulfa, is that correct?"

"Yes," Mrs. Colgate croaked.

"See now that wasn't so hard," Dolohov said with that twisted grin still on his face. "Now, I only have one more question and then I will be gone," causing Mrs. Colgate's eyes to fill with hope.

"My friend," Dolohov lips twisted in a grimace, "happens to be looking for Fridwulfa. He very much desires to see her again, and he was wondering if she has stopped by or indicated where she was going too."

Mrs. Colgate's eyes grow wide as her heart sinks into her chest. Mr. Hagrid's ex-wife, the giantess Fridawulfa had arrived dreadfully thin and hungry at their village. The giantess had been seeking her son, Rubeus Hagrid, but Mrs. Colgate had known instinctively there was more to the story. There was no reason for the giantess to return after all these years except to seek shelter, but the question rather had been from what or who?

"She did not say where she was going," Mrs. Colgate admitted telling no lies. "She came and then left after taking some stored food from the shed."

"Well, beast, what do you think?" Dolohov said to the air causing the hairs on the back of Mrs. Colgate's neck to stand up.

Slowly turning her eyes to the side, Mrs. Colgate sees something impossibly large rise from the ground and block out the moonlight. A cold, murderous giant stood before gazing down upon her. Mrs. Colgate feels rather dizzy unable to breathe from shock and the force of the constricting cords binding her.

"The human witch tells no lies," Wurfbog growled in vexation at once more reaching a dead end. "However, the witch reeks of fear."

"Oh, I have no qualms there," Dolohov said with a grin and waved his wand. The cords began to tighten and constrict around the old witch. The old witch tries to breathlessly plead for her life until she is unable to speak for the sheer agony. A loud crack is finally heard and the witch's body breaks and goes limp.

"Weak," Dolohov sneered tossing the corpse of the witch next to that of her husband. This was exactly what was wrong with the world. What kind of witch and wizard left their home without their wand?! It was simply unheard of. And it was his duty to destroy the weak among them.

"What say ye, half-breed," Dolohov said with a bit of a grin. "Shall we have a bit of fun, before the Auror's and the beast patrols are called?"

A cruel grin spread across Wurfbog's face in agreement, before the of them attacked the sleeping village. They let down their hair and enjoyed themselves for a bit. Although they did not linger for long lest the Aurors arrive and surround them. By the time the Auror's arrived, there were countless dead and wounded. Thankfully, most of the damage was contained to the village, but still, the news would be sure to in the Daily Prophet the next morning.