Then, there in the gutter, he saw the skeletonized body of a dead cow, skeletonized as only piranhas could skeletonize a dead cow, and he realized it wasn't a dream.

Then the wall of water hit him and he sank into its turgid depths, fighting for the surface, for air, precious air. His wand, heretofore his saving tool, sputtered and went out when he tried to cast sparks or anything else to save his life. The the swirling water hit him in the head with a grand piano and he sank into the soft and silent depths, where he found peace even though his skull was crushed like a rotten watermelon caught between two freight trains colliding as over 160 kilometers per hours. His penultimate thought was "Splat?" and then he knew no more. His last thought, his last thought ever, was thankfulness that his eyebrows were no longer ablaze and that except for his damaged head he would make a lovely corpse should his body ever be found.