RP: Pre-Interview Jitters
Characters: Neville Longbottom, Dennis Creevey
Location: Diagon Alley, outside Gulliver's Greenhouse
Date: July 8, 1999
Status: Semi-Private
Summary: Neville has an attack of nerves right before the big interview.
Completion: InComplete
Alright, it was almost time. Neville rubbed nervous, sweaty hands against his legs as he looked from across the street at the store. He was nearly an hour early, but he'd been unable to sleep the night before, and had gotten up, puttering until Gran yelled at him to make himself useful, and so he'd gone to clean up, taking extra care to get all the dirt out from under his nails this once. Then he'd donned his best dressy-but-not robes, the ones Gran had bought for him as a gift for completing his NEWTs. She'd been pleased with the marks he'd gotten, and had promised him a surprise, but it would be another week til she was ready to spring it on him. His stomach roiled unpleasantly. Last time she tried to surprise him like that, Uncle Algie had been at a party and kept clapping him on the back, when not pinching his cheeks for "giving them the old what for' at the Department of Mysteries and breaking his dad's wand.
He pushed those thoughts away. He always felt ineffectual when thinking of his extended family. They were all slightly mad, he thought privately, and he'd rather find a way to move out before the next family gathering.
He leaned back against the shop across from Gulliver's, biding his time. He tried to think through how he'd present himself. "'Hello, Mr. Lemuel, sir, how are you today? I'm fine sir. Excited about the opportunity to work for you, sir.' No, that sounds like a right git. "Mr. Lemuel. Pleasure to see you again.' What the bloody hell do I say?" He muttered to himself, trying not to panic at the thought of being as thoroughly assessed as he would be. What if he was asked a question and he didn't know the answer. His breathing got faster, and he broke out into a cold sweat.
Location: Diagon Alley, outside Gulliver's Greenhouse
Date: July 8, 1999
Status: Semi-Private
Summary: Neville has an attack of nerves right before the big interview.
Completion: InComplete
Alright, it was almost time. Neville rubbed nervous, sweaty hands against his legs as he looked from across the street at the store. He was nearly an hour early, but he'd been unable to sleep the night before, and had gotten up, puttering until Gran yelled at him to make himself useful, and so he'd gone to clean up, taking extra care to get all the dirt out from under his nails this once. Then he'd donned his best dressy-but-not robes, the ones Gran had bought for him as a gift for completing his NEWTs. She'd been pleased with the marks he'd gotten, and had promised him a surprise, but it would be another week til she was ready to spring it on him. His stomach roiled unpleasantly. Last time she tried to surprise him like that, Uncle Algie had been at a party and kept clapping him on the back, when not pinching his cheeks for "giving them the old what for' at the Department of Mysteries and breaking his dad's wand.
He pushed those thoughts away. He always felt ineffectual when thinking of his extended family. They were all slightly mad, he thought privately, and he'd rather find a way to move out before the next family gathering.
He leaned back against the shop across from Gulliver's, biding his time. He tried to think through how he'd present himself. "'Hello, Mr. Lemuel, sir, how are you today? I'm fine sir. Excited about the opportunity to work for you, sir.' No, that sounds like a right git. "Mr. Lemuel. Pleasure to see you again.' What the bloody hell do I say?" He muttered to himself, trying not to panic at the thought of being as thoroughly assessed as he would be. What if he was asked a question and he didn't know the answer. His breathing got faster, and he broke out into a cold sweat.