#millicentbulstrode

Two cups of tea later Peregrine finally fell silent and Millicent returned upstairs to put on her thick rubber soled boots and attach her equipment belt around her hips. When she returned to the kitchen she and Peregrine established their legilimency connection and he took yet another cup of tea with him to the sitting room that had been delegated their command unit.

Millicent left the manor and apparated to the village where her mark, Sebastian Blishwick, lived. The village was a muggle one but with a strong wizarding presence.

“Perhaps you should disillusion yourself,” Falcon fretted over the link.

“Quite worrying, Falcon, you’ll wear yourself out.” Millicent replied, besides, it was too late now; she couldn’t just vanish off the street, it would look more suspicious than her attire.

Peregrine was silent as Millicent approached her mark’s house. It was a muggle townhouse, three stories of humble grandeur loomed above her as she let herself through the front gate and up the pathway.

“Do you have eyes?” She asked Peregrine as she approached the front door.

“Yes,” he replied, “he knows.”

Millicent grinned wickedly, let him know, she thought, it wouldn’t save him.

She raised a hand to the knocker and let it ring out, a loud clear death toll to the house’s inhabitant. 

Of course, there was no answer, so Millicent simply let herself in; the locking charm no match for her training. Once she was inside she cast a revealing charm and the anti-intruder jinxes and hexes Blishwick had put in place glowed a faint blue; there were several tricky charms but Millicent managed to unpick them with little display.

“Where is he?” She asked Falcon, panting a little with the strain of undoing so many powerful charms.

“Top floor, to the left, at the end of the corridor.” He replied, “Study.”

Millicent began to hum as she approached the stairs, an eerie tune. When she reached the first floor landing her humming turned to song.

“Tili tili bom

Close your eyes now

Someone’s walking outside the house

And knocks on the door.”

Millicent could almost hear Blishwick’s heart thudding as the stairs creaked beneath her rubber soled feet.

“Tilli tilli bom,” she continued up the second flight of stairs.

“The nightbirds are chirping

He is inside the house

To visit those who can’t sleep.”

She reached the top floor landing.

“He walks

He is coming

closer.”

“Tilli tilli bom,” the door to the study creaked on it’s hinges as it swung open, “Can you hear him closing in?”

To his credit, Blishwick was waiting to meet her when she stepped out of the shadowy hallway into the faint lamplight of the study, pressed up against the desk as though he could back up no further, face white and hands trembling where they grasped the edge of the ornate writing desk for support.

“Dobry vecher.” Millicent greeted him, almost conversationally, her lips blooming into a wicked smile. “It’s hot out today,” she motioned the open window and took a step forward, as though she were simply heading to close it.

Blishwick twitched, a jerky, terrified movement. Millicent stopped, her smile growing wider, if it was possible.

He reached for his wand, in what she supposed was supposed to be a lightening movement, but Millicent saw it coming and with a swipe of her hand he flew to the side and was pinned by invisible hands to the bookshelves lining the walls.

“Tilli tilli bom,” she continued, her hand forming a fist as the invisible hands closed their hold around Blishwick’s neck, his eyes bulged in their sockets and he scrabbled at his throat for a hold on something that was not there.

“The silent night hides everything

He sneaks up behind you

And he is going to get you.”

A gargled noise emitted Blishwick’s throat and Millicent tightened her grip.

He gave one last futile effect at clawing the invisible hands squeezing the life from him before his arms fell limply to his side.

Millicent released the vicelike grip on his throat before directing Blishwick’s motionless body to the floor where she propped him against the desk leg, as though he had simply sat down there for a moment. His eyes were wide with fear, staring unseeingly at a spot on the floor near the doorway, Millicent bent to check his pulse before removing a box of matches from her equipment belt. She struck one, letting it burn for a moment, before opening Blishwick’s mouth and placing the still lit match on his tongue. The wet of his saliva fizzled it out immediately with a soft hiss leaving the charred, half burnt matchstick in his mouth, which Millicent closed again. 

The window was still open and it had begun to rain softly. Millicent allowed herself a moment, and crossed the room to stand by the window looking out into the dark backyard.

“Someone will see you.” Falcon snapped.

“Piss off,” Millicent retorted, but she took one last breath of the rain-soaked air and moved away from the window.

She barely glanced at Blishwick’s body as she left, his arms hung awkwardly at his side and his head lolled lazily. His neck was perfectly devoid of any bruises or marks.

This was mestʹ, Millicent thought, as she trod silently down the two flights of stairs and paused briefly by the front door to disillusion herself. She opened the door just enough to allow herself to slip out into the damp night.