Neville Algernon Longbottom (nevilleftw) wrote in ageofdarkness, @ 2010-07-04 12:42:00 |
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Entry tags: | ernie macmillan, neville longbottom |
Who: Neville/Open to Servants
Where: The Great Hall
When: Sunday afternoon
What: Neville has the blacklung
Neville was regretted his volunteering to tackle the chimney in the Great Hall on his own. His reasoning had been sound, as although most of the chimneys in the castle were wider than in a normal house, he was not as small as Colin nor as lean as Seamus, and the prospect of getting stuck in any of them, particularly with so few people around, was not a nice one.
But the fireplace that kept the enormous Hall warm during winter was ten paces wide, and the chimney what felt like several miles high. It was wide enough that he could fit in, but too wide that he could sweep both sides at once with the biggest brush he had, which meant that he had to go up and down four times, each turn getting him blacker and blacker with the same soot he was meant to be scooping into a bag. He'd been at it for four days now, and his shirt, trousers and bedsheets were all ruined. He dared not change them for fear of ruining another set. He looked like a raincloud. And he felt like one, too, except for the being wet part.
On his way down on the fourth run, just when he was beginning to think the task not so insurmountable after all, he stabbed at a crusted over lump on the stones with his brush and let loose a huge puff of soot that, too slow, he inhaled. It went straight into his mouth, nose and eyes. Spluttering, he scrambled down the remaining ten or so feet, losing his grip on the few handholds there were, and falling the last four. He landed with a painful thump in the fireplace, inwardly rejoicing that he'd cleared the grate of wood and coal before starting. He scrambled out and began coughing in earnest, his body desperate to rid itself of the vile, bitter substance.