Bole watched her with the amusement of a cat with a mouse. Her fear was exciting, he could almost smell it. He loved it. Oh how he'd wanted her. The gentle teasing was fun, yes, but this was the pay off. A scared little girl. Oh she hadn't even experienced sheer terror yet.
"Oh? You'll call an Auror if I don't go?" his smile stretched wider, baring his teeth, "Well there's your mistake Eleanor. You should've called an Auror the second you saw me!" He punctuated the last word by whipping around, lifting his arm and throwing the shovel at her.
It was hardly a good throw, nor would it be hard for her to move aside or use her wand to defend herself. But Bole didn't need the shovel to strike her, only to distract her as he slipped his borrowed wand into his palm and lashed it through the air, "petrificus totalus!"