#tle plot

Rabastan had dropped the habit of deciding whether other people were worth talking to based on their Hogwarts house (or, more accurately, based on whether they were in Slytherin or not) after a couple months of living in the real world, but in moments like this he was starkly reminded just why Slytherin had been the most superior by far. No snake would have ever thought that the best idea during what essentially amounted to the end of the world would be to light up a giant fire and get drunk, but then again no snake would have needed to be cheered up like this in the first place.

But the Order ruled Hogsmeade, whether they said that publicly or not, and Rabastan had learned quite quickly that the always feared and fawned upon Order of the Phoenix was actually compromised of a bunch of overemotional losers. It was honestly quite embarrassing that the Dark Lord hadn't managed to win the war within a couple days. Rabastan was pretty sure he'd personally have managed it.

Still, he could play nice and keep up appearances, so he was sitting by the fire with his wand tucked into his sleeve and a slight smile plastered on his face. He just hoped that nobody would actually bother to speak with him despite the fact that the bench he'd chosen had started to become more and more crammed until they were all sandwiched together.