 connoisseur of comfort ❅ Crayola's Wibby Mrs Alex Turner ❅ Netflix and meow
AKJHSAKAHDG!!!11
“Wha——? Cut it out and go away!!” Max growled angrily at the poltergeist, trying his hardest but ultimately failing miserably to dodge the spitballs that were pelted in his direction too. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, manky, stinky swamp water was added to the mix. It was on his robes… it was in his precious hair.
Thankfully, he wasn’t as soaked as the Gryffindor kid who was still the wrong side of the rope but STILL. He was a clean freak and so this was a nightmare.
Gross gross gross.
“I know you.” He huffed irritably, turning back to the Gryffindor with an even bigger frown. It might've been effective if his face wasn't splattered with brown swamp goo. And.... well... he didn’t know him. Not REALLY. But kind of. “You were in the Prefect’s compartment on the train here. Who’s badge did you nick?”
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