F. Neville Longbottom, III (tibetan_turnip) wrote in contentious, @ 2008-11-29 16:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | neville longbottom, zacharias smith |
Who: Zacharias Smith aned Neville Longbottom
When: 29 November, 2001
Where: Harpies vs. Catapults
What: KRIDDITCH!
Rating: TBD
Status: Semi-Private/InComplete
Neville was fairly certain Smith wasn't coming, which didn't surprise him. He didn't know why he cared. It wasn't as if Neville was sitting here all by himself, thoroughly confused, unsure of anything that was going on and summarily uncomfortable in the cold and very alone. Nope. Neville was having an absolute blast, really.
He didn't even feel like drinking. He'd been working on this beer for a good hour and it didn't seem to be getting any emptier. He should just go the fuck home. Though, Neville figured that at least he was out for the afternoon now evening. It was a late game to begin with, but it didn't seem to be wrapping up anytime soon. Neville could be a total loser and go home and sit in his flat and get pissed... by himself...again or he could sit at an actual social event and get pissed... still by himself - not that getting pissed with Smith would be any big social event. They'd likely get in an argument, throw punches, or they'd be awkward. Neville chalked up the amiable snark and wit in the journals to a random fluke. Neville have a handful of friends and three of them were in Australia. The other three (he was pretty sure that he only had six really close friends) were all birds and interested in cannibals or shoes or jobs or something bloody interesting. He might as well stay at the match. At least he was out.
Was Neville a self-depricator? YES. He could probably get over that, but it allowed him some odd form of solace. If he were suddenly popular with blokes banging down his door he'd seriously consider getting his head checked or looking into the study of alternate universes. Neville took a sip of his beer and raised the cup in a mock salute to no one else.
"Well, here's to... oh, heck if I know. GO HARPIES! HECK YES! QUIDDITCH! WOOOOOOOO!" He needed to finish his beer a whole lot quicker so he wouldn't feel so daft yelling like that again. Apparentley, even though everyone else was yelling all those things, ithere was an art form to it that Neville didn't understand - or maybe he just wasn't supposed to yell them all at once. Or maybe it was the heck... or maybe it was just because he was Neville. He quickly ordered another beer fromt he girl going by and downed the one he had. Yes, He needed to pissed.