~8~
For a moment, Harry felt uneasy about walking up to a strange, seemingly deserted village. Mrs. Figg looked as if she had her doubts too. She tapped her bony finger on her chin, her other hand resting patiently on her waist.
"Cole village. my wonderful friend, Agatha, revived me from a bermstreng sting once. She conjured up the remedy quick as a jack rabbit. Come along then, Harry," she picked up the pace, striding towards Cole village.
Once they got closer, Harry noticed the cozy houses all packed closely together. Most houses were cottages, a few with two stories here and there. Welcoming candles lit all of the windows; that must have been where the glow came from. Shadows of the homes were cast upon the visage of the forest.
The dirt beneath their feet became drier as it crunched softly beneath their steps, and the air began to warm, embracing them.
Cole Village was peaceful and quiet. There was an exception for the old man sitting outside his house, on his barrel, playing an odd instrument resembling a fife.
A mysterious, sleepy tune swam through the air. A two-story building stand in front of them, two candles sticking out of their holdings attached to the walls on either side of the door.
Mrs. Figg walked inside and rang a small bell sitting on a desk that chimed throughout the building.
For a moment, Harry felt uneasy about walking up to a strange, seemingly deserted village. Mrs. Figg looked as if she had her doubts too. She tapped her bony finger on her chin, her other hand resting patiently on her waist.
"Cole village. my wonderful friend, Agatha, revived me from a bermstreng sting once. She conjured up the remedy quick as a jack rabbit. Come along then, Harry," she picked up the pace, striding towards Cole village.
Once they got closer, Harry noticed the cozy houses all packed closely together. Most houses were cottages, a few with two stories here and there. Welcoming candles lit all of the windows; that must have been where the glow came from. Shadows of the homes were cast upon the visage of the forest.
The dirt beneath their feet became drier as it crunched softly beneath their steps, and the air began to warm, embracing them.
Cole Village was peaceful and quiet. There was an exception for the old man sitting outside his house, on his barrel, playing an odd instrument resembling a fife.
A mysterious, sleepy tune swam through the air. A two-story building stand in front of them, two candles sticking out of their holdings attached to the walls on either side of the door.
Mrs. Figg walked inside and rang a small bell sitting on a desk that chimed throughout the building.