Bole stood his ground, grinning alongside the bared grin of the skull, his eyes flashing dangerously with the glow of the flames. He flicked his wand and the flames arched around him, leaving a circle where he stood. He could still feel the heat though, bright and scorching in the summer's sun.
"It is a compliment," He laughed, "And maybe I did, but I'm sure the next Weasley'll go down quicker than you did, you little ginger bitch." The sound of the Burrow's door opening with a slam made Bole apparate away instantly. He wasn't planning for a bigger fight, at least not today. The next one...