The Harder I Swim The Faster I Sink

First he would gather a breath, as much as he could, then he would sink — all the way to the bottom. Letting himself reach the silty floor. Perhaps a grindylow would wrap itself around his legs. Or one of the merpeople would pull him deeper still. Stealing his oxygen. They could have it.

When he was sufficiently dissatisfied that he wasn’t going to be taken captive by a resident of the lake he would dig his feet into the muck and push himself upwards, propelling to the surface while the water rushed alongside him. And for those few minutes he wasn’t a Death Eater. He wasn’t Lucius’s son. He was just a boy underwater. Drowning without really drowning.

Part IV of the Tender Remedies series