Because they deserved a better tribute.
Dumbledore's Army - Still Recruiting
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Do or die you'll never make me
because the world will never take my heart...
03 April 2008 @ 08:40 pm
shamelessly stolen from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
r_moony.
r_moony. What are five ideas/concepts/etc you keep in mind while writing your character that you believe are essential to accurately depicting them? Why did you choose them? How do they relate to the character’s over all persona?
1. Neville was just as much an orphan of the first war as Harry was.
It's true his mum and dad 'lived' but as a small child growing up and going to visit them regularly in St. Mungos I'm not entirely sure he would have thought of that as a blessing.
Neville had his Gran while he was growing up and he loved her tremendously but he never felt as though he lived up to Frank's image in her eyes. McGonagall hit the nail on the head that Augusta needed to be proud of the grandson she had and she wasn't--not that Neville could see or believe until the second war.
One difference between Nev and Harry is that when Harry came into the wizarding world people couldn't wait to tell him all about his parents. Everything about what they were like, what they were good at, etc. The only person who really talked to Neville about his parents in that respect was Barty Crouch Jr. when he was posing as Moody.
I know that in that instant when Neville found out who Moody really was--some part of Neville was broken for good.
There are no Godfathers or Marauders for Neville. No one to keep the real Frank or Alice alive for him. Just a litany of how Neville ought to behave in order to live up to parents he never knew.
This is important to me in writing him because Neville's first instinct isn't to go to a parental figure if something is wrong. When something is troubling him. He doesn't know how to reach out and make that connection. Instead Neville's sense of family and security comes almost entirely from his peers. It's always Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny.
There's one notable exception in the form of a certain former Head of House.
( Five Aspects of Neville Longbottom )
1. Neville was just as much an orphan of the first war as Harry was.
It's true his mum and dad 'lived' but as a small child growing up and going to visit them regularly in St. Mungos I'm not entirely sure he would have thought of that as a blessing.
Neville had his Gran while he was growing up and he loved her tremendously but he never felt as though he lived up to Frank's image in her eyes. McGonagall hit the nail on the head that Augusta needed to be proud of the grandson she had and she wasn't--not that Neville could see or believe until the second war.
One difference between Nev and Harry is that when Harry came into the wizarding world people couldn't wait to tell him all about his parents. Everything about what they were like, what they were good at, etc. The only person who really talked to Neville about his parents in that respect was Barty Crouch Jr. when he was posing as Moody.
I know that in that instant when Neville found out who Moody really was--some part of Neville was broken for good.
There are no Godfathers or Marauders for Neville. No one to keep the real Frank or Alice alive for him. Just a litany of how Neville ought to behave in order to live up to parents he never knew.
This is important to me in writing him because Neville's first instinct isn't to go to a parental figure if something is wrong. When something is troubling him. He doesn't know how to reach out and make that connection. Instead Neville's sense of family and security comes almost entirely from his peers. It's always Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny.
There's one notable exception in the form of a certain former Head of House.
( Five Aspects of Neville Longbottom )
07 February 2008 @ 10:49 am
From thetenspot.
1. Rage issues?I has them.
2. Death wish? I had one.
3. Pocket knife that matches the scars on me?Still got it..
4. Night terrors.I'd have them...if I slept.
5. Problems with authority?Hmmm...just that one Headmaster who I occasionally brawl with in the middle of staff meetings.
6. Paranoia.But hey, at least Moody would be proud I'm 'vigilant'.
7. Problems with abandonment?hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha Oops. Sorry. It wasn't supposed to come out sounding so creepy.
8. I hate my workplace almost as much as I love it.
9. I like greenhouses.I grow more than a little pot--but it's for the greater good. I sometimes cross breed some really fucked up carnivorous plants that can devour an ox in under ten minutes.Go ahead. Fuck with my school and see if I'm lying.
10. There's a long list of people I deeply regret not killing.
1. Rage issues?
2. Death wish? I had one.
3. Pocket knife that matches the scars on me?
4. Night terrors.
5. Problems with authority?
6. Paranoia.
7. Problems with abandonment?
8. I hate my workplace almost as much as I love it.
9. I like greenhouses.
10. There's a long list of people I deeply regret not killing.
28 January 2008 @ 03:45 pm
20 December 2007 @ 11:20 am
Christmas Present for oddlylunalu
oddlylunalu Dear Luna,
I've been sitting here looking at this piece of parchment for an hour trying to figure out what to write. I've started and stopped this letter a dozen times in the last week for that very reason. Everything I try and put down seems so fake, stories about what's going on now that the war is over, gossip about friends, a few words about my greenhouses...
But none of it matters. None of it's what I really want to say to you.
So for once I'm going to just say what I'm feeling and hope, hope that you'll understand even if I'm not making sense.
I miss you and I've been missing you every day since you left. I knew it would be bad when you told me you were leaving, but I don't think I'd realized just how much I've come to need you, depend on you, how much I've come to love you.
And I do. Love you, that is.
It probably started the first time you helped me look for Trevor. I don't remember falling in love with you then - I think I was just a little too dazzled by your smile. You have that way about you this sort of easy, sweet affection that is so genuine you can reach into a painfully shy little boy's heart and just light up his entire world. Then you kissed me under that missiletoe. I must have loved you then. . .how could I not love you? I stood there for a good ten minutes after you danced away and I know I had a goofy smile that didn't leave my face for days.
Then things got so dark, so fast for all of us. We had to grow up faster than we realized. There was so much to be done and just making it through the day became a victory of sorts. You probably don't know this, but I was watching you that whole time. The way you worked, the way you reached out and gave people whatever it was they needed to just hang on a little bit longer, raise their voices a little bit louder, stand a little bit taller. I know you don't see yourself that way but it's who you are. It's what you did for the D.A and I know that because it's what you did for me. Whatever strength I found in our last year may have always been inside of me but you were the one that brought it to the surface.
Even then, I didn't realize how much I loved you. I knew you were my friend, I knew you were more important to me than anyone and I knew there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for you. I don't think I understood being in love with you until you left. Until I knew I couldn't just find you in the library or walk with you by the lake or just be near you.
I understand it now. I understand that in my life no one has given me more happiness, more peace, more courage than you. I understand that with you gone things are just a little bit grayer, life's a little more drab and I am a little more out of step.
I'm not writing this to make you come home. I understand why you left and why the time's not right - there's so much out there for you to see and I want you to see it all. But I want you to understand that I love you. (Funny how much easier it gets to say the more I say it) I love you and when you come home I hope you'll come home to me.
Love,
Neville
29 November 2007 @ 09:24 pm
Nobody Better Lay a Finger on my Luna.
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YEAH! You got that world?!?!?!?!
01 November 2007 @ 06:33 pm
1. Tell me one thing you love about me.
2. Tell me two things you love about yourself. No self-deprecation allowed!
3. Look through the comments — when you see someone you know, tell them three things you love about them.
4. Do this in your journal.
2. Tell me two things you love about yourself. No self-deprecation allowed!
3. Look through the comments — when you see someone you know, tell them three things you love about them.
4. Do this in your journal.
12 October 2007 @ 10:41 pm
Little Things - A ficlet for oddlylunalu
oddlylunalu OOC: Cause Nev wanted to.
**
Some nights he doesn't. There are nights when Neville doesn't so much 'fall' asleep as he falls 'into a coma' from too many nights of not sleeping. On those nights he doesn't. Or on nights when there's another crisis/kidnapping/random act of senseless violence. And, amazingly enough, there are some nights when he just plain forgets and it has nothing to do with his legendary faulty memory, and it doesn't mean he's lost interest or that he doesn't care. What it means is that he's a man in the middle of a war who spends a ridiculous amount of time reading poorly written parchment on Mandrake root.
But for the most part he does. He waits until Luna is sleeping, her breath deep and slow and even and the little furrow between her brow smooths out. He climbs out of their bed and sits down at their desk with quill in hand and scrawls out a few words. Before folding the parchment he places a wildflower in the center; his preference is for daisies because they remind him of her, but really anything beautiful will do. Then he folds the note carefully and places it in its spot.
The next day, when Luna sticks her hand in her pocket she comes out with a folded piece of parchment with a small flower folded inside and written in Neville's sloppy handwriting is a poem.
I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
- Pablo Neruda
I love you,
Nev
**
Some nights he doesn't. There are nights when Neville doesn't so much 'fall' asleep as he falls 'into a coma' from too many nights of not sleeping. On those nights he doesn't. Or on nights when there's another crisis/kidnapping/random act of senseless violence. And, amazingly enough, there are some nights when he just plain forgets and it has nothing to do with his legendary faulty memory, and it doesn't mean he's lost interest or that he doesn't care. What it means is that he's a man in the middle of a war who spends a ridiculous amount of time reading poorly written parchment on Mandrake root.
But for the most part he does. He waits until Luna is sleeping, her breath deep and slow and even and the little furrow between her brow smooths out. He climbs out of their bed and sits down at their desk with quill in hand and scrawls out a few words. Before folding the parchment he places a wildflower in the center; his preference is for daisies because they remind him of her, but really anything beautiful will do. Then he folds the note carefully and places it in its spot.
The next day, when Luna sticks her hand in her pocket she comes out with a folded piece of parchment with a small flower folded inside and written in Neville's sloppy handwriting is a poem.
I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
- Pablo Neruda
I love you,
Nev
11 October 2007 @ 08:53 pm
DRABBLE! Get your drabble here! Any kind of drabbl-y request. Sweet, hot, creepy, angsty, funny etc. Neville shall do his bestest to oblige.
Why? Because sometimes you just gotta follow the herd....MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Why? Because sometimes you just gotta follow the herd....MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
08 October 2007 @ 01:31 pm
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
- Frank Herbert, Dune - Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear
22 August 2007 @ 02:52 pm
A silvery figure seems to appear out of nowhere
When the patronus speaks, it speaks with Neville's voice...
Death Eaters at St Mungos
When the patronus speaks, it speaks with Neville's voice...
Death Eaters at St Mungos
20 August 2007 @ 06:22 pm
I hope your nose is broken.
*The note is attached to a bottle of Ogden's Finest Old Fire Whiskey and set in Snape's office.
*The note is attached to a bottle of Ogden's Finest Old Fire Whiskey and set in Snape's office.
17 August 2007 @ 02:17 pm
We've gone to Gretna. Getting married.
I took school's carriage and Thestrals. My bad.
15 August 2007 @ 03:43 pm
If you woke up one morning and found me in your bed, what's the first thing you'd think or say?
07 August 2007 @ 07:50 pm
Neville returned home after talking with his Mum and fell asleep in the garden swing. It was a deep, deep dreamless sleep and when he woke up Neville felt rested and calm...
At least until he tried to stand up and ended up falling off the swing.
"Wha-?" He looked down at where strong sturdy legs should have been and found only the stubby fat ones of his youth. His feet had gotten tangled up in the legs of his pants. He blinked and looked at his hands that were swimming in the sleeves of his robes. From the ground the swing looked much higher up. Tom hopped up until they were eye to eye and croaked.
"Ribbit."
Which was obviously toad for 'bloody hell'.
He stood up and rolled his pant legs up a dozen times so he could walk and shuffled over to the reflecting ball. Looking back at him was his 9 year old face. "Oh damn!" But the curse sounded funny coming out of such a squeaky little voice.
He'd heard about Harry and Sirius turning into their child selves. "Maybe something's going around."
The walk back to the house was long and Neville was out of breath when he got to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder with one hand and clutching Tom with the other. "Fine! If they don't want to be here with me I don't want to be here either!" And he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
ooc: wee!Neville is on the loose. Look out for unbridled clumsiness, dimples and sulky 9 year old demeanor.
Open to anyone that wants to play :)
At least until he tried to stand up and ended up falling off the swing.
"Wha-?" He looked down at where strong sturdy legs should have been and found only the stubby fat ones of his youth. His feet had gotten tangled up in the legs of his pants. He blinked and looked at his hands that were swimming in the sleeves of his robes. From the ground the swing looked much higher up. Tom hopped up until they were eye to eye and croaked.
"Ribbit."
Which was obviously toad for 'bloody hell'.
He stood up and rolled his pant legs up a dozen times so he could walk and shuffled over to the reflecting ball. Looking back at him was his 9 year old face. "Oh damn!" But the curse sounded funny coming out of such a squeaky little voice.
He'd heard about Harry and Sirius turning into their child selves. "Maybe something's going around."
The walk back to the house was long and Neville was out of breath when he got to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of floo powder with one hand and clutching Tom with the other. "Fine! If they don't want to be here with me I don't want to be here either!" And he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
ooc: wee!Neville is on the loose. Look out for unbridled clumsiness, dimples and sulky 9 year old demeanor.
Open to anyone that wants to play :)
05 August 2007 @ 08:16 pm
Leave me an anonymous reply with the following:
1. One secret.
2. One compliment.
3. One non-compliment.
4. One love note.
5. Lyrics to a song.
6. How old you are.
7. How long we've been friends.
8. And a hint to who you are.
1. One secret.
2. One compliment.
3. One non-compliment.
4. One love note.
5. Lyrics to a song.
6. How old you are.
7. How long we've been friends.
8. And a hint to who you are.
05 August 2007 @ 02:16 pm
Mum sent me a new toad. I know owls and cats are the more popular choice but seeing how I spend so much time in gardens and greenhouses a toad's quite nice company and very useful.
And good news! He hasn't wandered off once.
His name is 'Tom'.
04 August 2007 @ 09:27 pm
for yes_peacocks 5 Times Neville Got One Up on Lucius Malfoy
yes_peacocks 5 Times Neville Got One Up on Lucius Malfoy 03 August 2007 @ 09:34 pm
Uh, I found Trevor.
*sighs*
Ten years is pretty long life for a toad.
Nobody's ever had a better pet than Trevor and I'll miss him.
*sighs*
Ten years is pretty long life for a toad.
Nobody's ever had a better pet than Trevor and I'll miss him.
03 August 2007 @ 09:08 pm
You’ve temporarily turned into a child, what do you do?
I'd be completely and totally fearless.
I'd run in the halls and not use my 'inside voice'.
I'd play in rain puddles and roll in the dirt and never let anyone tell me that 'young gentlemen don't engage in such behaviors'.
I'd sneak my Grandfather's broom and try and ride it before I even got into Hogwarts.
I'd be noisy and a little rude.
I'd tell good stories and bad jokes.
I might even kiss a girl in my garden when no one is looking and it'd taste like lemonade and bubblegum.
I'd have dirt on my shoes and my hair would be unmanageable and never lay flat.
I'd talk more.
I'd TALK BACK
I'd push wobbly old Uncle Algie off Blackpool Pier and see how HE likes it.
I wouldn’t care if I was living up to the Longbottom name.
I wouldn’t even care if I was a Squib.
I'd be all the different kinds of naughty that I could be and love every single minute of it.
Muse: Neville Longbottom
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 161
I'd be completely and totally fearless.
I'd run in the halls and not use my 'inside voice'.
I'd play in rain puddles and roll in the dirt and never let anyone tell me that 'young gentlemen don't engage in such behaviors'.
I'd sneak my Grandfather's broom and try and ride it before I even got into Hogwarts.
I'd be noisy and a little rude.
I'd tell good stories and bad jokes.
I might even kiss a girl in my garden when no one is looking and it'd taste like lemonade and bubblegum.
I'd have dirt on my shoes and my hair would be unmanageable and never lay flat.
I'd talk more.
I'd TALK BACK
I'd push wobbly old Uncle Algie off Blackpool Pier and see how HE likes it.
I wouldn’t care if I was living up to the Longbottom name.
I wouldn’t even care if I was a Squib.
I'd be all the different kinds of naughty that I could be and love every single minute of it.
Muse: Neville Longbottom
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 161