RP: Moping
Date: 21 March 1999
Characters: Neville Longbottom, George Weasley
Location: Hog's Head
Status: Public
Summary: Neville's hungry but not up for cooking.
Completion: Complete
Neville greeted Ab and told him he'd take whatever stew or soup he had on today and a butterbeer. He felt it best not to start drinking considering how he felt right now.
His appointment with Master Herbologist Rhydderch Gurdin hadn't been anything like the times he'd met with Professor Dockdown and the other Herbologists that took apprentices. It had been Neville's mistake to think that, although he had no idea what to expect, if not what he'd already encountered. Everyone else had a fairly standard set of questions with minor variations for specialty. Not Master Gurdin. And it was Master Gurdin, not Mister, or Professor, or even Healer, which was how the person who wrote the foreward to Master Gurdin's book had referred to the man. It seemed that everything Neville did or said this afternoon only met with criticism, demands to explain himself, or stormy looks that appeared designed to put Neville on the defensive. Not even Neville's choice of business robes had been a good one, although if he'd worn his even more formal navy blue set, it might have gone even worse for him. Master Gurdin hadn't even shook his hand before he was demanding to know how Neville planned on digging around in the dirt if he was dressed up like the Minister, without even allowing him to get in a word before the man was off onto something else.
It had been one disastrous thing after another. All together, the robes had probably been the highlight. At least without being given time to reply, Neville hadn't had a chance to put his foot in his mouth or lose his temper. No, losing his temper had been reserved for Master Gurdin's comment questioning his sincerity, well that, and that bloody snake.
Apparently, Master Gurdin had been under some misconception that Neville hadn't been sincere when he'd written the first time asking for a consultation regarding his desire to train in Herbology, specifically in hybrids and new plants with medicinal properties for potions. The Herbologist had written back stating he wouldn't even consider speaking with Neville unless he was able to earn an Outstanding Herbology NEWT and an Exceeds Expectations or better in either Potions or Charms. As soon as Neville had his scores, he'd sent a copy along with his letter requesting the agreed upon consultation or preferably an interview for an apprenticeship. Master Gurdin told Neville frankly that he hadn't thought he'd hear from him again. Since Neville was determined to go through with the farce as Master Gurdin called it, he agreed to the meeting. Neville had gotten angry then and had told Master Gurdin that while he was certainly within his rights to set whatever qualifications he wished for those seeking to study with him, it was a cruel and rude thing to make people think they at least had a chance for a fair interview when he never intended to give them any such thing.
Neville had then been told that if he felt killing the Dark Lord's snake qualified him for anything beyond magical sword wielding, he was mistaken. Master Gurdin had then been told that if he felt the only thing Neville was qualified for was butchering snakes, he was the one mistaken. From there it had turned into a grueling hour that made Neville's verbal arguments with Malfoy look like a couple of ickle firsties fighting over whose dad could hex whose worse. The questions were drolled out in a superior tone that made Neville wonder if Snape had ever studied with the man. Thankfully, Neville had ceased being afraid of Snape after facing Death Eaters at the Ministry at the end of his fifth year. After that, merely unpleasant and nasty, Neville could handle and it was unlikely Master Gurdin would turn a Cruciatus his way like one of the Carrows. Still, the questions had covered topics Neville had barely touched on in his readings of journals and textbooks. They were questions far beyond what they'd covered in NEWTs. It was only his work with Professor Sprout and all the extra research Neville had done determining what specialty he wished to pursue that gave him any ability to answer the questions at all. Even then, it was such a pitiful bit of information, he was sure Master Gurdin was right now eating dinner with his family and describing the idiot who thought he'd make a good Herbologist but was really just an idiot with swiss cheese for brains.
Ab brought his stew out to the bar with a small loaf of bread and some butter. Neville walked up to claim it, knowing Ab hating bringing food out to the tables if he could help it. Thankfully, the man wasn't the sort to press for information beyond asking if Neville wasn't sure if he'd rather have a firewhiskey. Neville thanked him no, and went back to eat and feel sorry for himself for a little longer.
Characters: Neville Longbottom, George Weasley
Location: Hog's Head
Status: Public
Summary: Neville's hungry but not up for cooking.
Completion: Complete
Neville greeted Ab and told him he'd take whatever stew or soup he had on today and a butterbeer. He felt it best not to start drinking considering how he felt right now.
His appointment with Master Herbologist Rhydderch Gurdin hadn't been anything like the times he'd met with Professor Dockdown and the other Herbologists that took apprentices. It had been Neville's mistake to think that, although he had no idea what to expect, if not what he'd already encountered. Everyone else had a fairly standard set of questions with minor variations for specialty. Not Master Gurdin. And it was Master Gurdin, not Mister, or Professor, or even Healer, which was how the person who wrote the foreward to Master Gurdin's book had referred to the man. It seemed that everything Neville did or said this afternoon only met with criticism, demands to explain himself, or stormy looks that appeared designed to put Neville on the defensive. Not even Neville's choice of business robes had been a good one, although if he'd worn his even more formal navy blue set, it might have gone even worse for him. Master Gurdin hadn't even shook his hand before he was demanding to know how Neville planned on digging around in the dirt if he was dressed up like the Minister, without even allowing him to get in a word before the man was off onto something else.
It had been one disastrous thing after another. All together, the robes had probably been the highlight. At least without being given time to reply, Neville hadn't had a chance to put his foot in his mouth or lose his temper. No, losing his temper had been reserved for Master Gurdin's comment questioning his sincerity, well that, and that bloody snake.
Apparently, Master Gurdin had been under some misconception that Neville hadn't been sincere when he'd written the first time asking for a consultation regarding his desire to train in Herbology, specifically in hybrids and new plants with medicinal properties for potions. The Herbologist had written back stating he wouldn't even consider speaking with Neville unless he was able to earn an Outstanding Herbology NEWT and an Exceeds Expectations or better in either Potions or Charms. As soon as Neville had his scores, he'd sent a copy along with his letter requesting the agreed upon consultation or preferably an interview for an apprenticeship. Master Gurdin told Neville frankly that he hadn't thought he'd hear from him again. Since Neville was determined to go through with the farce as Master Gurdin called it, he agreed to the meeting. Neville had gotten angry then and had told Master Gurdin that while he was certainly within his rights to set whatever qualifications he wished for those seeking to study with him, it was a cruel and rude thing to make people think they at least had a chance for a fair interview when he never intended to give them any such thing.
Neville had then been told that if he felt killing the Dark Lord's snake qualified him for anything beyond magical sword wielding, he was mistaken. Master Gurdin had then been told that if he felt the only thing Neville was qualified for was butchering snakes, he was the one mistaken. From there it had turned into a grueling hour that made Neville's verbal arguments with Malfoy look like a couple of ickle firsties fighting over whose dad could hex whose worse. The questions were drolled out in a superior tone that made Neville wonder if Snape had ever studied with the man. Thankfully, Neville had ceased being afraid of Snape after facing Death Eaters at the Ministry at the end of his fifth year. After that, merely unpleasant and nasty, Neville could handle and it was unlikely Master Gurdin would turn a Cruciatus his way like one of the Carrows. Still, the questions had covered topics Neville had barely touched on in his readings of journals and textbooks. They were questions far beyond what they'd covered in NEWTs. It was only his work with Professor Sprout and all the extra research Neville had done determining what specialty he wished to pursue that gave him any ability to answer the questions at all. Even then, it was such a pitiful bit of information, he was sure Master Gurdin was right now eating dinner with his family and describing the idiot who thought he'd make a good Herbologist but was really just an idiot with swiss cheese for brains.
Ab brought his stew out to the bar with a small loaf of bread and some butter. Neville walked up to claim it, knowing Ab hating bringing food out to the tables if he could help it. Thankfully, the man wasn't the sort to press for information beyond asking if Neville wasn't sure if he'd rather have a firewhiskey. Neville thanked him no, and went back to eat and feel sorry for himself for a little longer.