That was... shockingly dramatic, almost (or maybe even completely) on-part with her own history. Maybe she and Mr. Pettigrew were more alike than she'd imagined — not that there weren't differences in their situation. Pettigrew's misfortunes had come from her own mistakes, while her mistakes had been motivated by other people's impression of who she was based on something she hadn't had a hand in.
(Not that she was in a position to judge in this moment.)
"I'm sorry that happened," she said quietly, unsure if she had anything helpful to respond with. It wasn't as if she was in a position to be giving life advice — she was borderline-drunk and currently living in a muggle village in a cowardly attempt to hide from her problems. Some Gryffindor, she thought bitterly.
"You have a wife, though, right? Friends? A job that makes you happy? You have something to live for, at least. A reason to go on," she offered with a somber smile before taking another swig.
(Not that she was in a position to judge in this moment.)
"I'm sorry that happened," she said quietly, unsure if she had anything helpful to respond with. It wasn't as if she was in a position to be giving life advice — she was borderline-drunk and currently living in a muggle village in a cowardly attempt to hide from her problems. Some Gryffindor, she thought bitterly.
"You have a wife, though, right? Friends? A job that makes you happy? You have something to live for, at least. A reason to go on," she offered with a somber smile before taking another swig.
— MJ is MAGICAL —