OS prompt 59.3 Caught in an embarrassing situation & WM prompt 55.6 Mortification
It was the perfect day for punting on the river: the sun shone, the sky was blue and Harry had a pretty girl sitting in the punt smiling up at him. He smiled back at her before needing to concentrate on what he was doing before the punt slowed much more. What it was about him that caught her eye he didn't know, but he wasn't about to question it for fear she changed her mind.
They could have gone for a nice walk along the Cherwell, or through Christ Church Meadow, both of which were very pretty in their own right. But anyone could, and generally did do, that. Harry wanted to do something different; he wanted to impress her. So far it was working.
The trouble was he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice what a perilous position he was in until he pulled on the pole and his feet parted company with the punt. The girl shouted his name and any other time he would have been glad she remembered it, but for a moment he was too terrified to do anything other than take an even tighter hold on the pole while he watched the punt glide away from him, still carrying the pretty girl.
Once he calmed down and took stock of the situation he realised things weren't quite that bad, since the river wasn't particularly wide or fast flowing that day. And there was still time to rescue both the girl, and her opinion of him. Sadly, though, it turned out only the former was going to happen because some other boys stood on the bank laughing. Harry only knew them vaguely, but he recognised them as being in the year above him. One of them had already jumped in and was fast approaching the punt.
The pole was beginning to tilt rather badly with his weight and become unstuck in the mud it had been firmly stuck in only a moment ago. A quick look at the water told him he was far closer to it than he had previously suspected and he hit it with a splash.
He was half tempted to just stay under there for a while and not have to face anyone. But the water didn't taste that good and he hadn't had time to take much of a breath in first. He surfaced with a gasp, still clutching the pole that he was determined not to lose. The laughter hadn't stopped and, worse than that, was coming from the bank that he was going to have to swim towards if he had any hope of getting home and getting changed before he froze.
As he pulled himself out of the river, shivering, he distinctly heard one of the boys say, "I thought you were a rower." He was, although he'd only taken it up a few months earlier. Nevertheless, he should be able to keep his balance on a boat and he really didn't need anyone else to point that out to him. He was embarrassed enough already and rather hoped he never had to face anyone who had seen it ever again. Yet he knew in his heart that was a false hope.
They could have gone for a nice walk along the Cherwell, or through Christ Church Meadow, both of which were very pretty in their own right. But anyone could, and generally did do, that. Harry wanted to do something different; he wanted to impress her. So far it was working.
The trouble was he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice what a perilous position he was in until he pulled on the pole and his feet parted company with the punt. The girl shouted his name and any other time he would have been glad she remembered it, but for a moment he was too terrified to do anything other than take an even tighter hold on the pole while he watched the punt glide away from him, still carrying the pretty girl.
Once he calmed down and took stock of the situation he realised things weren't quite that bad, since the river wasn't particularly wide or fast flowing that day. And there was still time to rescue both the girl, and her opinion of him. Sadly, though, it turned out only the former was going to happen because some other boys stood on the bank laughing. Harry only knew them vaguely, but he recognised them as being in the year above him. One of them had already jumped in and was fast approaching the punt.
The pole was beginning to tilt rather badly with his weight and become unstuck in the mud it had been firmly stuck in only a moment ago. A quick look at the water told him he was far closer to it than he had previously suspected and he hit it with a splash.
He was half tempted to just stay under there for a while and not have to face anyone. But the water didn't taste that good and he hadn't had time to take much of a breath in first. He surfaced with a gasp, still clutching the pole that he was determined not to lose. The laughter hadn't stopped and, worse than that, was coming from the bank that he was going to have to swim towards if he had any hope of getting home and getting changed before he froze.
As he pulled himself out of the river, shivering, he distinctly heard one of the boys say, "I thought you were a rower." He was, although he'd only taken it up a few months earlier. Nevertheless, he should be able to keep his balance on a boat and he really didn't need anyone else to point that out to him. He was embarrassed enough already and rather hoped he never had to face anyone who had seen it ever again. Yet he knew in his heart that was a false hope.