It hurt, it hurt, it-
Oh. In a flash, the grindylow that had chomped down on his foot was gone and, momentarily forgetting about the pain, he looked towards the source of the jet of boiling water to see Eria. Too dazed to say a word, he nodded gratefully at her, making sure to thank her properly once they were out of that whole mess.
Finally, Bartholomew and professor Wayland were there, so he wasted no time to push himself up to the surface, already feeling the effects of the gillyweed fading away as he approached the shore. Once out, he sat down near the lake, enjoying the feeling of air filling his lungs once again as his gills were disappearing, and his hands and feet were turning back to normal. Speaking of which...
He was afraid to look at his foot, which was throbbing in pain from where the grindylow had bitten. It was- oh, he looked, and he could only bite his lip to keep himself from whining. Did he carry any dittany in his bag? He couldn't remember, but he took his wand out of its holster and summoned his bag to search for anything useful through it, no longer caring that he was dripping wet and cold and getting his bag wet, as well.
Sorry, professor Wayland, but no swimming lessons for him. He was just fine with staying on solid ground for the rest of his life.
__________________ ♪♫ As if it's a puzzle, the overlapping heartbeats,
We are still incomplete, which is why we are perfect. ♪♫
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