Adolescent Angst - after the first inkling of interest/small payment on the script.
"NEVILLE" Draco had already shouted a couple of times but this final bellow through the closed bedroom door was backed up by a blast of sonourus. Having no desire to be thrown out of the flat because of excessive noise nuisance, Neville gave in, set aside the Sunday paper and with better grace than the situation warranted went to find out what Draco wanted this time.
So far this morning it had been seven spellings, four cups of coffee and two commands to turn down the radio (the second time it hadn't actually been on).
Neville had returned from a gruellimg double shift at the garden centre the previous evening ready for a long bath and an early night. Only to find Draco already in occupation of the bedroom. Apparently the first draft of script revisions had arrived and as Draco peremptorily informed him, some people had work to do and couldn't just lie around the place pleasing themselves. The sheer effrontery of the remark not to mention the subsequent eighteen hours or so of being treated like a house elf in a flat on which he was still paying the lions share of the rent, might have driven Neville to violence. Had it not been for the fact that bored, miserable "Walthamstow" Draco had worn very thin very quickly and while obnoxious, demanding, bratty Draco wasn't Nevilles most preferred option it was still something of an improvement.
Or it had been, an uncomfortable night on the sofa later and as Neville once again approached the bedroom door he was beginning to wonder.
"What now Draco?"
Draco looked up the picture of industrious innocence. "What's teen angst?"
"I though your father considered Durmstrang?"
"I know what angst is, but whats it got to do with "teen" in fact what is "teen?"
"It's what comes between childhood and being a grown up you know, play games, get older, play different types of games, get older still, leave school get a job."
"No not really, where I came from it was more "Malfoys don't play games", get older, learn the unforgivables, get older still, leave school join the deatheaters. But it sounds all right so again, where's the angst?"
Neville was struggling, and a lack of aleep was only part of the problem "Perhaps if you explained the whole question?"
"Here look" Draco pointed to a comment scribbled in the margin of the manuscript. "Needs more teen angst"
"I don't understand, she just saw her games teacher eaten alive from the inside by a necrotising potion. Thats not enough angst?"
"I think it means more you know, hair, nails, boys that sort of thing." Draco continued to look perplexed and Neville struggled to explain, he did dimly get it, "good old Neville" had often been a shoulder to cry on in the Gryffindor common room. After all it wasn't like Neville was the sort of boy well you know...
Inspiration struck. "Lavendar and Parvati just saw Professor Sprout eaten by a manticore."
Draco's face cleared and he snatched up the pen writing furiously, "Oh no poor Miss Benson, will this mean they cancel the prom only I was sure that Dirk was going to ask me?"
((Well, I'm having fun...))
So far this morning it had been seven spellings, four cups of coffee and two commands to turn down the radio (the second time it hadn't actually been on).
Neville had returned from a gruellimg double shift at the garden centre the previous evening ready for a long bath and an early night. Only to find Draco already in occupation of the bedroom. Apparently the first draft of script revisions had arrived and as Draco peremptorily informed him, some people had work to do and couldn't just lie around the place pleasing themselves. The sheer effrontery of the remark not to mention the subsequent eighteen hours or so of being treated like a house elf in a flat on which he was still paying the lions share of the rent, might have driven Neville to violence. Had it not been for the fact that bored, miserable "Walthamstow" Draco had worn very thin very quickly and while obnoxious, demanding, bratty Draco wasn't Nevilles most preferred option it was still something of an improvement.
Or it had been, an uncomfortable night on the sofa later and as Neville once again approached the bedroom door he was beginning to wonder.
"What now Draco?"
Draco looked up the picture of industrious innocence. "What's teen angst?"
"I though your father considered Durmstrang?"
"I know what angst is, but whats it got to do with "teen" in fact what is "teen?"
"It's what comes between childhood and being a grown up you know, play games, get older, play different types of games, get older still, leave school get a job."
"No not really, where I came from it was more "Malfoys don't play games", get older, learn the unforgivables, get older still, leave school join the deatheaters. But it sounds all right so again, where's the angst?"
Neville was struggling, and a lack of aleep was only part of the problem "Perhaps if you explained the whole question?"
"Here look" Draco pointed to a comment scribbled in the margin of the manuscript. "Needs more teen angst"
"I don't understand, she just saw her games teacher eaten alive from the inside by a necrotising potion. Thats not enough angst?"
"I think it means more you know, hair, nails, boys that sort of thing." Draco continued to look perplexed and Neville struggled to explain, he did dimly get it, "good old Neville" had often been a shoulder to cry on in the Gryffindor common room. After all it wasn't like Neville was the sort of boy well you know...
Inspiration struck. "Lavendar and Parvati just saw Professor Sprout eaten by a manticore."
Draco's face cleared and he snatched up the pen writing furiously, "Oh no poor Miss Benson, will this mean they cancel the prom only I was sure that Dirk was going to ask me?"
((Well, I'm having fun...))