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slaymybreathaway · 5 months

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WASTELAND BABY! (Chapter Two)

Chapter List Masterlist Prev. Chapter

Word Count: 3k

Contents: cursing, mentions of catcalling and misogyny, some sibling slagging, intense pining and FLUFFF

September 1994 ○ The Great Hall

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As the last 1st year student to be sorted made his way over to the Ravenclaw table, Dumbledore stood up out of his seat to the podium. "Now that everyone is settled... I have an announcement to make,"

Over on the gryffindoor table, y/n slept with her head resting on her crossed arms. After being up since 7am and not being able to sleep all last night, she couldn't keep her eyes open. Neville, who was sitting beside her, gently tried to shake her awake.

"Here, Longbottom that's no use. If death eaters bombed the school, she'd sleep through it," Seamus laughed from across the table, from where he was sitting between Dean and Ron. He took a couple of Fun Snaps out of his robe pocket and threw them down on the table, exploding beside his sister's ear.

Y/n woke up in shock, her heart racing at the loud noise that disrupted her sleep. As she took in her surroundings and noticed that half the table had turned their heads at the sound of the loud noise, her face turned a deep shade of red.

She gave her brother a hard kick to the shin under the table, which turned his raucous laughter into a shout of pain.

Y/n smirked at this as she turned to listen to the headmaster.

"This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests as well," Dumbledore spoke to all of the students. "You see, this year Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament"

Excited chatter spread across the whole room as Dumbledore explained the event. Every triwizard champion in history became rich and famous afrer winning the tournament, and every student wondered if it would be them this time round.

"What'd you think the chances of me winning are?" Ron asked, to no one in particular. While the whole group resisted the urge to laugh, Y/n took it upon herself to answer him.

"About as the same probability of me getting picked as quiddich captain," she shrugged. It was no secret that her athletic skills were very limited. The only time you'd ever catch Y/n Finnegan running was if Voldemort himself was chasing her.

No one heard her joke, however, because as she spoke the doors of the great hall swung open to reveal about a hundred girls dressed in baby blue school uniforms. They moved, in a way that could only be compared to floating, down the middle of the great hall, gracefully greeting the crowd every few paces.

Every single one of the girls was breath-takingly beautiful, the kind of looks that would make you insecure. This observation clearly wasn't missed by all of the boys in the room, who were entranced by the scene infront of them. Sounds of over-the-top clapping and obnoxious whistling filled the air as the boys showed their appreciation to their schools' new guests. Even Neville had stood up to get a better look what was going on, the palms of his hands turning red from all of the clapping.

Y/n, Hermione and Ginny shared a look of uncomfortable disgust. It seemed all of the girls seated at the house tables were feeling the same thing, as they clapped quietly from where they sat, unable to meet the eyes of their male peers once they sat down.

After greeting Madam Maxine, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, Dumbledore returned to his place behind the gold podium at the front of the hall. "And now... our friends from the North. Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their headmaster, Igor Karakoff,"

The doors of the great hall swung open once more to reveal a crowd of boys dressed in a brown uniforms, their hair tightly cropped to their scalp. They marched down the centre of the great hall, doing tricks with the wooden staffs they held in their hands.

Y/n elbowed Hermione in the side and shot her a smile as she recognised the face of the final Durmstrang student to walk in, Victor Krum. At the Quiddich World Cup, the girls realised that they both found him quite attractive.

"Look y/n, it's your fella," Seamus smirked over the shoulder at his sister, knowing what her opinions were about the Bulgarian seeker. The only reply that he recieved was his sister's two fingers in the air, telling him to fuck off.

Neville turned to face her, eyebrows raised. "Your fella?" He shot her a joking smile.

"Don't mind him, I don't know what he's on about," Y/n replied, before shooting Seamus a dirty look. She really didn't want the whole of Hogwarts to know about her celebrity crush.

○

Y/n lay in bed, staring at the leather-strapped watch that adorned her wrist. All of the other girls in her dorm had fallen asleep hours before and now it was just her that remained awake. She watched the thin, second hand tick slowly forth until it met both of the other hands at 12. Midnight.

Slowly, the girl pulled back her duvet and sat up, trying her best not to wake Lynott who was curled up asleep on the end of her bed. She laced up her black Doc Martens over her fluffy socks, and pulled a dark green hoodie, embroidered with the crest of her local quiddich team, Kenmare Krestals.

Y/n crept out of her dorm room, making sure not step on the creaky floorboards that she had memorised the location of sometime between then and first year. Just as she was about to head down the stairs the common room, she stopped herself and turned around, walking down the corridor to the section with the 3rd year girls' dorms.

She opened one of the doors just enough for her to enter, the light from her wand illuminating the floor as she quietly snuck over to the bed that her best friend peacefully slept in.

Ginny's red hair was splayed across the pillow, limbs tangled in the red and gold duvet. Her mouth hung slightly open, releasing light snores that circled the, otherwise silent, room.

Y/n smiled to herself, she knew that Ginny would be the one to fall asleep. She shook the girl lightly to try and wake her "Gin?" "Ginny wake up, it's midnight,"

The red-headed girl stirred and slowly opened her eyes, jumping in fright when she saw y/n standing over her in the darkness, looking a bit like the grim reaper. "What're you doing here?"

"You fall asleep every year," she chuckled lowly before throwing Ginny the knitted jumper that was laying ontop of her trunk. "It's midnight, c'mon,"

At those words Ginny quickly got out of bed in a rush. "Shit already? I swear it was just lights out?" she whispered.

Ginny quickly pulled on a pair of socks and runners, not bothering to tie the laces as she tucked them down the sides. She then tugged the jumper over her head and rolled up the sleeves to make it fit. It was one of George's old Christmas jumpers, but she got away with wearing it since they had the same first inital.

"Let's go, they're probably waiting for us," y/n spoke. They followed the light from their wands as they made their way out of the dormitories, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake McGonagall, who's quarters were located at the end of the hallway.

As the girls reached the common room they spotted Neville, sitting on one of the couches as he waited for them. He lay back comfortably, his eyes closed as he listened to the music playing from the earphones connected to his walkman.

Y/n smiled, a plan hatching in her head. She knew that Neville wouldn't be able to hear them if they were quiet. She turned to Ginny and put a finger to her lips, letting her know what she was about to do.

She then snuck up behind the sofa where the boy was sitting and hopped over the back, landing beside him. "Boo" she laughed, watching his scared expression slowly turn to a relieved smile.

Neville saw someone appear to the right of him and his heart dropped, thinking someone had caught him out of bed past lights-out. When he saw it was just y/n, he couldn't help but grin at her playfullness and his heart skipped a beat once more. "Hi, I was waiting on you," he replied shyly.

Y/n flung her legs over his lap, and crossed her arms behind her head. "Yeah I know, but I had to wake up this lazy bitch," she nodded towards Ginny with a playful smile.

"Shut up, I'm awake now aren't I?" She responded, from where she was leaning against the back of the sofa, with an over-exaggerated eye roll.

Neville filled with intense embarrasment once he realised that Ginny had been there all along. He was greatly thankful for the dim firelight that disugiused how deeply he blushed when y/n sat next to him. If he wanted this crush to remain a secret, he would have to get better at hiding it.

"We should go. Luna's probably up at the tower already," Ginny pointed out. Y/n agreed and sat up, taking her legs off of Neville's lap.

The trio left the Gryffindor common room and manoeuvred their way to the other side of the castle, checking around every corner to make sure there was np sight of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Eventually, they found themselves climbing the spiral staircase which led to the astronomy tower.

Ginny was right, Luna was already at the top when they got there, looking up at the night sky. Four mugs of tea rested on the safety railing beside her, steam visible in the cold Autumn air. Without turning around, she greeted them all "Hi guys,"

The past few years, the four of them created the tradition of coming up to the astronomy tower at midnight whenever they came back from a school break. It started when Luna had read that there was going to be a meteor shower that night, so the other three went up to watch it with her. Last year, the house elves had realised what they were doing and started to leave tea up there for them.

They all stood beside their blonde haired friend and followed her gaze up to look at the bright cresent moon, surrounding by thousands of stars dotted across the sky. It always seemed that the stars shined brighter while they were at Hogwarts, which probably had something to do with all the magic around the school's grounds.

The group drank their tea and stared up into the sky in a comfortable silence. None of them ever seemed to feel the need to fill quiet moments with small talk, they were more than happy to just enjoy each others presence.

Luna was the first to speak. "We aren't the only one's doing this, you know"

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Neville asked, turning to face the blonde-haired girl. The space between his eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Doing this, looking at the stars." She replied, a smile making it's way onto her face. "I bet that there are other people doing exactly the same thing as we are,"

Y/n considered it for a moment, she had never taken the time to think about how every person saw the same sky at night, counted the same stars. It was comforting to her, in a weird extistential way.

"Yeah, but we are way cooler than those other people," Ginny joked. The others let out silent laughs, which were visible in the frosty air.

○

The group were sat down on the edge of the astronomy tower, their legs dangling off the side. The only thing stopping them from falling off was a metal bar. A cold breeze blew past them, making Ginny shiver and pull her arms around her chest. "Guys, I think I might head back to bed. It's freezing out here,"

Luna nodded in agreement. "I'll come with you, Ginny. I need to return these to the kitchen and thank the house elves," she collected the empty tea mugs into her arms. "Are you two coming aswell?"

Y/n shook her head and put up her hood, to shield her neck from the chilling air of the Scottish highlands. "I think I might stay for a while. I'm not quite ready for bed yet,"

Immediately after she finished her scentance, Neville started to speak. "Y-yeah, me too. I think I'll stay here with y/n" he crossed his arms and nodded, as if it was the best idea in the world.

"Okay" Luna smiled. She hugged both of her friends and walked over to the stairs, her footsteps not even making a sound on the stone floor.

Ginny lingered for a minute longer. She shot Neville a look, in silent question of his odd behaviour, before saying goodbye and disappearing down the spiral staircase with Luna.

Once they had watched their friends fully leave, the pair turned back to look at the view infront of them. From the height that they sat at, they could see everything: the forbidden forest, the black lake, the mountains and even the lights of Hogsmede village in the distance.

"Thanks," y/n spoke. The word cut through the silence, so crisp that they could almost see it written out in the air infront of them.

"For what?" Neville asked. As far as he remembered, he didn't do anything to deserve a thanking.

"For staying out here with me" she shrugged, turning to look at boy best friend. His overgrown hair moved with the breeze, but it didn't do anything to hide the smile that grew on his face.

Neville turned to face the girl he had been infatuated with for the last month. Before he returned to school he had hoped his feelings were just on account of Summer lonliness, but they haven't gone away, quite the opposite acctually...

"Anytime"

And he didn't mind it one bit.

The pair of them stared at eachother, studying the changes that had occured in the face of the other over the summer. Y/n noticed that Neville had lost a lot of that child-like roundness to his face, his features slowly sculpting into structure. Neville noticed that y/n had gained a couple of new freckles along her forehead and nose, representing her days spent on the beaches back home in Kerry.

As if they were in sync, both of them looked up at the same time making unexpected eye contact. They were unable to look away, like a deer in headlights knowing it will be killed by a massive lorry if it doesn't move off of the motorway.

Y/n broke first, clearing her throat as she looked down. She could feel her face heating up and hoped she could excuse it on the cold. As her eyes scanned back up, the headphones resting around Neville's neck caught her attention.

"Um- whatchu listening to?" She asked, desperate to change the topic of conversation.

"Here," Neville took the headphones from around his neck, placing them over y/n's ears before pressing play on the walkman clipped to the waistband of his blue striped pyjama bottoms. He watched as her face grew into a massive grin when she recognised the song playing.

"Is this this the mixtape I made you?!" She asked, hearing the last verse of The Waterboys' 'The Whole Of The Moon' through the little orange foam ear pieces.

Neville nodded, "I've been listening to it ever since you gave it to me... it's the only tape I have," he shrugged sheepishly, still flustered from the previous encounter.

Y/n thought for a moment before standing up, dragging Neville onto his feet also. She rewinded the tape back to the start of the song and unplugged the headphones, letting the song's opening drums and keyboard riff flood the top of the Astronomy Tower.

Noticing the look of confusion on the boy infront of her's face, Y/n took both of his hands in hers and started moving them forwards and backwards as she she swayed her hips to the rhythm. She couldn't help but sing as the lyrics began:

I pictured a rainbow

You held it in your hands

I had flashes

But you saw the plans

Neville smiled, she geniunely had such a pretty voice. Once he got into the song he began to sway to the beat.

I wandered out of the world for years

But you just stayed in your room

Neville twirled y/n around and heard and her joyus laughter filled his head. As the next line of the song came in, he joined in with her,

I saw the cresent

You saw the whole of the moon

He had to admit, he wasn't much of a singer but it was hard not to sing along in that moment... which was cut short by a loud shout coming from the outside of the tower.

"WHO'S UP THERE! WHICH ONE OF YOU LITTLE BUGGERS IS OUT OF BED!" The scraggly voice that could only belong to Filch shouted up the tower.

"Fuck!"

NEXT CHAPTER

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#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #ireland #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom #neville longbottom fic #neville longbottom fluff #neville x reader #harry potter and the goblet of fire #seamus finnigan #luna lovegood #ginny weasley #the weasleys #astronomy #the whole of the moon #the waterboys #victor krum #durmstrang #beauxbatons

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diceriadelluntore · 7 months

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Storia Di Musica #293 - The Waterboys, Fisherman's Blues, 1988

And I am the Water Boy\The real game’s not over here. Nel 1973 Lou Reed pubblica Berlin, album seminale, oscuro, profondissimo e nella canzone The Kids compare il verso che ho appena scritto. Sarà lo spirito scozzese, così abituato alla poetica e selvaggia bellezza di quella terra, ma come per la vicenda dei Deacon Blue quel verso diviene una scheggia di passione che colpisce lo spirito di un giovane ragazzo di Edimburgo, che si appassiona alla musica. La capitale scozzese è tutt’altra città rispetto a Glasgow e ha dei particolari piuttosto noti a noi, dato che è attraversata da un fiume (anzi sorge all'insenatura (firth) creata dall'estuario del fiume Forth) e si sviluppa su sette colli (Arthur’s Seat, Calton Hill, Castle Rock, Corstorphine Hill, BVarids Hill, Blackford Hill, Craiglockhart Hill). Mike Scott è un poeta e cantante di Edimburgo, che per un po’ di tempo vive a Ayr, sulla costa occidentale della Scozia. Nel 1977 fonda una fanzine, una rivista autoprodotta dedicata ai propri idoli musicali, e il titolo, Jungleland, porta subito a pensare a Springsteen, Dylan, l’astro nascente in quegli anni Patti Smith. Istrionico, fonda un gruppo, gli Another Pretty Face e una etichetta discografica, la Chicken Jazz, che subito viene acquistata dalla Virgin di Richard Branson, che vedrà in questo ragazzo del potenziale altissimo, e non sbaglierà, dato che Scott sarà personaggio dai complessi risvolti e una delle figure più interessanti del panorama musicale degli anni ’80. Dopo varie esperienze, tra cui delle serate con Lenny Kane a New York, torna in Inghilterra e decide che chiamerà il suo gruppo The Waterboys proprio in omaggio alla canzone di Lou Reed.

Eppure musicalmente ci sono delle profonde differenze rispetto a quel disco mitico: Scott è affascinato da una certa idea di folk con contaminazioni rock, già fatta da gruppi leggendari come i Fairport Convention di Richard Thompson negli anni ' 60 e ’70. Il primo nucleo dei The Waterboys era composto dal sassofonista Anthony Thistlethwaite, Norman Rodger al basso, Karl Wallinger alle tastiere, Preston Heyman alla batteria oltre a Scott che suona la chitarra, il mandolino e altri strumenti. Con questa formazione si presentano ad una famosa Peel Session nel 1983 alla BBC, dove suonano il loro primo successo, A Girl Called Johnny, brano tributo a Patti Smith che entrerà a far parte nel luglio dello stesso anno di The Waterboys: già c’è la miscela interessantissima di musica in bilico tra folk e rock, equidistante da Van Morrison e dal rock epico post new wave. Più rock è A Pagan Place, del 1984, famoso per un brano, Church Not Made With Hands. Scott è ancora alle prese con una sua definizione di musica, anzi di una “big music”, che si leghi sia alla tradizione, ma che abbia un tocco personale unico e distintivo. Si ritira ai Park Gates Studio di Hastings, celebre luogo di una battaglia, ed inizia a pensare alla sua visione della musica, che parte sempre dal misticismo caledonico di Van Morrison ma stavolta vira con decisione verse le tinte fosche dei Velvet Underground, fino alla musica minimale (Scott dichiarerà di essersi ispirato a Steve Reich). This Is The Sea (1985) seppur con brani registrati in presa diretta, è un sottile gioco di strumenti e voci sovrapposte, in una rielaborazione in chiave celtica del wall of sound spectoresco, con l’aggiunta di testi profondissimi, che affascinarono un’intera generazione di musicisti. Il risultato è splendido. Ma Scott è tipo lunatico e quando sembra sul punto di spiccare definitivamente il volo, si prende una nuova lunga pausa dove, spostandosi a Dublino, inizia a rielaborare i suoi capisaldi. Si tuffa nella musica popolare e tradizionale di Scozia e Irlanda, e con l’aiuto di nuovi innesti, centrale quello di Steve Wickham al violino, nel 1988 pubblica il capolavoro atteso, uno dei dischi più belli degli anni 80.

Fisherman’s Blues è un album folk, ma che dalla tradizione si muove con estrema eleganza verso sonorità fresche, nuove, in un connubio che solo la genialità di Scott poteva costruire. L’apertura con la title track già da sola è euforia e classe, come la lunga e ipnotica We Will Not Be Lovers, tutta giocata su un riff di violini (canzone iconica). Le onde dell’oceano, le colline verdi, i muretti di pietra a delimitare i pascoli, i colori selvaggi e accesi sono sempre lì, tra una strepitosa cover di Sweet Thing di Van Morrison (da Astral Week) e addirittura il folk politico di This Land Is Your Land di Woody Guthrie. La musica da pub irlandese esplode nella stupenda And A Bag On The Ear (che è l’equivalente irlandese per un bacio sulla guancia italiano) che parla di un amore nato sui banchi di scuola. E come non adorare il sottile andare di When Will We Be Married. Se non si è ancora sazi di colline verdi smeraldo, atmosfere con l’odore tostato di birra stout, dell’affumicato di un single malt torbato e di semi di lino da sgranocchiare, c’è il colpo di grazia: un duetto tra Scott e Tomás Mac Eoin, uno dei più famosi cantanti di Sean-nós, che è un particolare stile di canto gaelico irlandese, che recitano e cantano William Butler Yeats nella indimenticabile The Stolen Child. Scott registrò così tanto materiale che solo nel 2006 ripubblicò l’album con la sua intera idea, che comprendeva ancora cover di Dylan, traditional e altre piccole meraviglie (tipo Let Me Feel Holy Again o l’altrettanto strepitosa You In The Sky). Scott, chiamato da attese spasmodiche, ritornò con lo stesso stile musicale nel 1990 con Room To Roam, che nei piani del cantante, risponde appieno all'attuale percorso musicale, che in onore al traditional The Raggle Taggle Gypsy Scott definisce raggle taggle music. Poi, inaspettatamente, virò verso un suono quasi hard rock (Dream Harder, nome omen, del 1993). E dopo una virata così inaspettata, ecco che, nella sua migliore tradizione personale, scioglie il gruppo e si prende l’ennesima e stavolta davvero lunghissima pausa, un decennio fino al 2000 quando ritorna a scrivere insieme ad altri musicisti nuovi capitoli di una saga nata 20 anni prima. Un geniale lunatico.

#the waterboys #fisherman's blues #1988 #recensione

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