Peter "so fucking done" Pettigrew

For being the words of a mass murdering psychopath, some if it actually makes sense.

So. I'm taking bets on how this is going to end. Massive Muggle Killing is running at 2:1. Another Large Scale Attack is at 4:1. And for the long shot odds, Mister Trimble Steps Down is going at 100:1.

If you've got another ideas, serve them up, and I'll give you your odds.

Will you guys please stop? I know this is what happens when you try and pack a lot of opinionated people into one small space, but all of this in fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. There's no reason to let one person who has no real proof other than speculation to get us this worked up.

Is he a Death Eater or isn't he? What are his real motives? Is he trying to set us up? Are we in danger of being exposed because of him? And my personal favorite "Can we really trust the opinion of someone else in the Order?"

These questions are pointless because he has nothing. There's no laws against peaceable assembly at any time of the night. All he knows at the moment is that there was a group of us in Diagon Alley after hours. There's any number of stories that could be used to cover that.

So everyone, please, just calm down. The last thing we need to do is turn on each other and implode.

And all of the petty pranks and taunting of the enemy stops NOW. I care about you guys, and if you keep this up, eventually they'll have it dwindled down until they'll have no one left to go after but you. I know you have a hard time knowing when enough is enough, so if you don't think you can stop when you reach that point of no return, just don't start. Period.

Death Eater or not, he was still a person. He still had a family and friends. We might not be able to see why his death should be mourned, but there is someone, somewhere that is doing so. It is Lily's journal. She has the right to express her opinion. But I would have thought that she would be more sensitive to the suffering of others, no matter their position. Each death, on whatever side they might be, is still a death and still as horrible as any other death would be.

I hate feeling like I have to hide these opinions, that I have to bite my tongue whenever I disagree with something that is being said. I'm getting sick of smiling and nodding when I want to contradict someone just because I can't get myself organized enough to make a point that will stick, one that won't be dismissed as senseless rambling.

Or maybe I just really don't know what the hell I'm talking about and should stop wasting all this ink. I've got to finish packing. I think I'm going to have to sneak out under cover of darkness in order to go back to my own flat.

I should write Mum a note before I do.

Going back to my own flat now that the Alley's opened back up. That is, if I can sneak out without Mum having another fit about how dangerous London is. If anyone needs me for anything, not that you probably will that's where I'll be.

If anyone needs me, I'm going to be staying with my parents in Birkenhead for awhile. Mum's a little jumpy after the attack, and she's convinced that if I stay in my own flat, I'm going to be blown up. I think she'd probably throttle me herself if she had any idea I was out in the middle of it. And then she'd probably blame James and Sirius for corrupting her poor sweet little boy.

If all of the battles we end up in are going to be that chaotic, we need some way to make sure that we can find each other if we need to especially if one of us ends up hurt enough that we need immediate assistance. What we need is some kind of signal that will alert the four of us without drawing attention from anyone else, something that we can carry with us like the dogtags.