 connoisseur of comfort ❅ Crayola's Wibby Mrs Alex Turner ❅ Netflix and meow
Holy. Moly.
Clifford stared wide-eyed, completely frozen on the icky step he'd taken refuge on. Oh, what he'd give to just be able to scramble up the last few stone steps and be SAFE! But he was Head Boy.. shouldn't he at least be doing something? You're a Head Boy that can't swim, the seventh year reminded himself, gulping anxiously.
Kiwi was going to die. The house elves were going to die. Professor Lawson was going to die. THEY WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!
"What are we meant to DO!?" Clifford panicked, trying to stand his ground against the violent water which was starting to unsteady him. Maybe go and find help? ... by the time he found anyone, everyone down here would drown surely! But there was no way he could submerge himself in that water.. that wouldn't help but simply cause more trouble.
He was so going to get fired. Could Head Boy's get fired?
"SWIIIIIIM!" Clifford yelled. That's it. That's all he could do.. just yell. Encouragement always helped right? "SWIIIIM!!! FOR YOUR LIIIIVES!"
Would they even hear that over the sound of the rushing water?
Definately fired. Surely.
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