Frankie was having a truly miserable time. Both the girls he had fancied in the village had up and left without warning just when things were getting interesting. One of them was back now but didn't remember him and was older, anyway. His sister and dad and grandparents had arrived - great - except there were new Death Eaters as well which just seemed to make everything complicated and uncomfortable, and now his mother was gone. His mum, who had been the one real constant in his life since he had arrived, other than his uncle Ernie, but aunts and uncles - not even real aunts and uncles - weren't the same. His Aunt Susan and Uncle Justin were around his own age, even younger than his 'Dad' was. Not that his 'Uncle' Justin was speaking to him, as far as he could tell. He wasn't even sure right now if his Dad was speaking to him.
It had all just got completely ballsed up.
Well, he was a grown up now, right? He'd made a big deal out if it, in fact. How did grown ups deal with being miserable?
He had never had the opportunity to experience real drink - he'd had a couple glasses at the nightclub since he'd come of age, but he was always careful not to overindulge. His mum might have only remembered him as a small child, but she could still dish out a piece of her mind when it came to it.
No need to worry about that now, though.
He slunk into the bar, alone. Something told him this was not a great plan, but what the hell. It wasn't as though he had any better. All anyone could offer was apologies and cocoa. Well he was sorry, but some situations called for something a lot bloody stronger than a cup of cocoa. He sat on a barstool, watching the barman - someone he'd never seen before, perhaps a new arrival, perhaps just because he'd hardly ever come in here before. "No worries," he said in response to the barman's grunt of greeting. His voice came out a little more high and anxious than he would have liked, and he cleared his throat. "S'fine," he added.