#oftherebels

WHAT: just a couple pals day drinking!!

WHEN: after Bella and Ally killed Harry :/

WHERE: wherever Pete lives I guess?

WHY: Pain and suffering tbh.

Peter was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. He could probably sleep for a hundred years if he would lay down for even a minute. He was a little paranoid, a lot anxious and there was no rest for the wicked. He felt as wicked as a person could get. He was sitting alone, lost in his thoughts (and his mind was a dark, scary place) when he saw a shadowy figure approach out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over, and was almost relieved to see Padfoot coming towards him. He missed his friend he’d been low key avoiding. "You look how I feel,” he noted, one eyebrow raised. “-and I feel like shit. Here,” he took a swig of alcohol before offering the bottle to the other Marauder. “I could lie and says it helps numb the pain but...” he trailed off, shrugging one shoulder.

Were there to be a black sheep within the Order, it’d be Mundungus Fletcher.  No one seemed to have a problem proclaiming their lack of trust in him, not that he could blame them.  Then there were the days, however, he couldn’t help but feel left in the dark.  It was Dumbledore who lead him there, and Dumbledore who seemed to leave him there as well.  A busy man, again, he understood, yet he still felt he was left wondering his purpose in all of it  ---  although it was told that soon enough it would all be clear.  Despite it all, he couldn’t help but feel tinges of annoyance when left out in the cold, shown in his pacing of the room.  Fingers snapped before popping over a fist, again  .  .  .  and again.  Eyeing the only other person in the room thus far, Sirius Black.  Let he be the one to break any and all uncomfortable silences, cluelessly with conversation possibly more so.  “So!  How’re the Potters holding up?”