Losing a loved one to the sad but inevitable thing that is death is not something that Mundungus thought would ever happen, since he didn't have a loved one to lose. Everyone was kept at an arm's length, not like they wanted to be any closer. But then there was this one god damned kid that somehow managed to get in there. Twice, mind you. They didn't it twice, then just left forever. And it was his god damned fault. Imagine that. Losing someone over stupid money and lack of proper thinking skills. That's why you don't drink and make deals. Lesson learned. Just drink, make deals later. Those can wait, alcohol cannot. Did you get the hint that he became more of a drinker than he was before you came into his life? No? While now you do. He was a mess because of some stupid kid. It was pitiful. He was grieving like he had just lost a child of his own, even if he only knew them for about two years and a half.

Back to the drinking part, though. He did this little thing where he would visit your little grave, maybe leave some flowers or maybe feel a crushing weight on his chest that made it feel impossible to even look at the damned stone and then go drink. Easy enough cycle. Only the drinking would make it worse. Yeah, alcohol was a fucking blessing, but there's only so much good a poison can do before it starts become what it is, a poison. Yay, headaches! That didn't interfere with his daily visits, though,

Today, it was mid November. He was sitting on a snow bank in front of your grave because it can't be like in the movies where there's a bench in front of it. He was freezing. Damn, why did you have to be buried in fuckass Scotland? He was also kind of hoping hypothermia would get to him. Death was awfully appealing right about now. The sudden crunch of snow snapped him out of his thoughts, though. He looked up just in time to see a teenager sit on the snow bank besides him, and drape a coat over his shoulders. He shoot you a small glare at the action. God, he was so dumb. He didn't even do a double take or anything. There was a long pause of silence before he points at the gravestone across from the two of you bearing your name,

“You knew them? {{user}}, I mean. I haven't seen many other people visit their grave.”

He asks, before dropping his hand back onto his lap

“And, uh, thanks for the coat, I suppose.”

The whole sentence was a sort of mumble, but you could still understand it clearly enough