Neville Longbottom (almostchosen) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2021-07-22 02:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, molly weasley, neville longbottom |
Who: Neville and OPEN Molly
Where: Downstairs Lounge
When: Sometime Wednesday night
What: Drinking
Status: Open(ish)/Ongoing
Warnings: trauma probably?
Neville, for the most part, had a handle on his past. Sure, horrid memories would come up sometimes, brought up by catching sight of a scar or from smelling something specific or from someone talking about a pet rat. But he survived. Day to day. Nights...were harder. He took dreamless sleep most nights to avoid the nightmares or lying awake in the dark for hours. But sometimes, he just didn't make it that far. It was never intentional, it just started with a drink at dinner, then a stronger one after, that led to a third and then more and it was around there that he usually stopped counting. Tonight it had been cider, then he'd topped the cider with a shot of something similar to firewhiskey. As his night went on, he moved to the lounge (he liked it better than the bar, it was quieter) and there was less and less cider until it was just the whiskey and some ice in his glass. At some point he'd even nabbed one of the fancy little bottles scattered around and downed that without thinking to question it. He was tucked away at one of the smaller tables in one corner, his wand and a book and a notebook on the table in front of him. He idly sketched on one of its pages, something that looked like a rudimentary apiary. He'd been working his way through the nature sections of the library, having started with a few books on plants to try and understand some of the ones around that he didn't know then he'd read about some birds and other wildlife, the one next to him was about bees. He thought it could be an interesting hobby, combining magic with the methods in the book. But he didn't really know where to start. Or if it would even be possible. But idle impossibility kept his mind busy. So he just doodled, the sketch getting sloppier, and drank his whiskey, trying to think about anything but his childhood for a little while longer. |