K15: Okay, so I got this idea from phoenix silsby, but it's okay. Because I found it easier to cope with death easier if I wrote letters too. I lost my grandfather back in May, and I write letters to him now and again. So if this makes you cry, I'm sorry. I bet you anything it made me cry too… anyway don't forget to review. Later. K15
PS- This is base off the first letter I wrote my grandfather.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, other wise Fred would have lived.
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Dear Fred
Can you hear me? It's George.
I've found myself crying again. And I don't blame you, I really don't. It's just I miss you, I miss you so much. The Burrow isn't the same when I visit. I usually get to see everyone there, excluding Charlie once again, and I'm perfectly alright with that. I wanted to visit your grave, but Ginny kept me too busy to actually go. I know I go on my own time, but it's just not the same. I didn't get to tell you how much I've missed you to your face. Or at least, as close as I can get. I haven't been able to tell you that I can't be strong any more. It hurts still to think back on that day, no matter how much I want to forget it.
But I'm trying.
Opening the shop didn't go as well as I hoped. I know I should have done better, but it seemed all new to me. Maybe I wasn't really ready to open it back up? I have opened it up though, now since it's passed the Christmas holidays.
So I finally figured out that Fleur doesn't understand, she wants her daughter to spend time with Mum, but she doesn't under stand why the rest of the family really came out. I've had to bite my tongue every time I'm around her. Because I wanted to tell Fleur that her child was lucky. Lucky that she didn't know you, lucky that she didn't have to go through the pain of losing you like I have.
I've cried tonight for the first time since your death. I've always come close to tears, but never actually allowed them to fall down my face. But I wasn't crying for just you. I was crying for me, and for Hermione too.
I guess you probably already know about Hermione. And you're probably shaking your head, saying that she could do so much better. And like always you're right. You're probably laughing at me, saying something along the lines of "George find yourself a nice witch and settle down."
I laugh at that. Just trying to imagine your voice and giving me advice about women. It sounds funny in my head, because I think I can hear your voice, but it's been so long since I have, I've forgotten what it sounded like.
I miss talking to you and giving you our brotherly hugs, even if it was over owls. I miss it all Fred. I guess I've just kept it buried inside of me the whole time. I know I can talk to Mum and Dad about work and stuff. But it's not the same.
Not the same, because when I imagined running this shop, I imagined it with you by my side and after two years, maybe one of us would be married. It's hard to believe that you died, died without my consent. And now I think if you haven't died that you would have gotten to be in my wedding, and you would have gotten to see my children. But I know you'll get to see me, but it just won't be the same. I try to move on with my life.
But I can't.
I hold my breath to hold back the tears that come freely whenever I think of you. Whenever I think of the last time I heard your voice, no matter how angry it was. I remember holding your hand, telling you it would be alright. I know you probably remember. You seemed to remember everything.
It's hard for me to be here.
I don't know why. I find it hard to think and do things away from home. I know you believed in me, but how can I believe in myself any more? It felt like you were the only one who brought happiness to my joy, would laugh whenever I messed your hair. And would tease me when I needed it.
Then I think of Ginny and Ron.
I think of how they can live everyday normally. Yeah, you're gone in their minds, and they've come to accept that. But why? Why you? Why now? I know it's not your fault, that you didn't have any say over the fact that you were going to die. I don't know why, but because I'm here and you're not I feel that I'm lost and confused more than ever. That I know I'm doing the right thing, and you're probably wanted me to take care of Mum, but I can't do it. I'm only 20! I can't live up to the expectations of the world around me.
Tears mean nothing to me now.
I don't cry much for anything any more. I can't cry when others are hurt, or when something bad happens to them. I cry because I lost you, I cry for remembrance of you. To hold onto those little memories we had. I hope you're happy in your next life, that you're doing wicked awesome. And I know you're looking out for me and Mum, and the boys, and Ginny, and Dad, and Fleur, and even Hermione and Harry. It's hard to believe that you're now our angel.
We're coming back.
I know you probably know this, but we're planning at grave site picnic, me and Katie. It will be my first picnic, date really without you. How long ago was it? A couple years since we've gone doubling? I remember the happiness in your eyes. Whether the food was gross or your date sucked, we were happy. You were happy. I want to know why it's harder this time to go. To know that this might be the last time I date someone. I want to know about the next death in our family.
Are they going to be like the ones I shed now?
Will they be tears of happiness? That I finally get to see everyone again? Even though it's for the wrong reasons? Just like last time. I have no idea what the future holds, and yeah, this is my second letter to you, and it seems to be getting harder and harder to write these. Probably because I know you'll never get them. Everyone's given up on me.
But I haven't.
I give myself hope. Every time I look in the mirror, I know I am stronger than anyone else here. I know that I won't see you again. That I deal with everything around me. Charlie, Bill, Percy, even Ginny has given up on me. They believe that I'm going insane, but course they could never say that around you. They can't, they couldn't. You loved me like no one else. And I'm not talking about that twinscet thing (I don't even know if I spelt that right).
I don't know if I can put up with family.
Sure, I know I should love Charlie and Percy, but I can't. They've given up on me. They don't think I can make it. But I know I can. I've always been like that. Full of jokes and pranking. And even a little forgetful sometimes, but that's what makes me, well, me!
The tears have finally stopped coming.
I've clamed down now, a lot. But I know I'll probably cry again tonight. I can't leave my room until I know everyone else is in theirs. It's because I don't want to let them know I've been crying. I'm sure if I was to talk on, my voice would crack and the tears would return. Tears of pain, well emotional pain. Something I thought Lee could help me with. Forget the pain of seeing you buried underground, the last moments you were in the same room as me. The last time you spoke to me, telling me how much you loved me. I remember everything of the time I spent with you. I remember how you took a liking to me, even if I was your twin. That you were… are my hero. And everything you did was to help me realize that I'm different. Different from Ron and Percy, different from Dad and from Ginny. That nobody could make me feel inferior, even though they did.
I knew that you loved me.
And I knew that you were proud of me.
And I know that you still are.
It's hard to live day by ay. Knowing when I walk up to the flat that you aren't there? Or when I talk to Ginny she's not going to say "Fred! George is here!" I know I can't hear the fact you want a hug so you can let me go again, because we really have nothing to say. And we can get straight to the pranking. I know when I see your grave again, when I run up to that swinging gate, that you won't be sitting on your grave laughing your head off as if it was some cruel prank. I know you won't be there when I leave either. Trying to get a glimpse of you, like I'm never going to see you again.
I know I won't hear your voice.
Or see your smile.
Or even hear your laughter.
I know I won't get to touch you.
Or wonder if you're going to get married to Angelina.
I know it will be forever until we see each other again. And I wonder if you're alright with that? If you can wait to see your twin brother and write him little notes on whatever there is to write on up in Heaven. I'm trying to keep every little thing of yours, especially those with your signature on it. I want it to be something special. I finally understood you cared about me. That's why you helped me set up the shop and allowed me to give free stuff to Verity.
I know that you hate to see me cry, and don't want me to see you in pain. I understand it all now, but is it too late? There is so much I've wanted to say to you. And now that you're gone I can't say anything to your face. And I can't say how sorry am I, for never saying thank you. Or if I did, I didn't say it enough.
I still can't walk outside. The tears are coming back, and the more and more I write this letter to you, the more and more I feel better, but worse at the same time. I know you don't like to se me like this, that you like the happier me. But I know this is something I have to do. Something I should probably place on your grave, under a rock so that it stays there. But I won't I won't let anyone know that this is the second letter I've written to you. And that when I think of Sirius dying and Harry losing him. I think how we lost you to a similar curse. I know I will be like Harry in a sense, knowing that I will never get over your death.
I remember when I found out about your death. I remember seeing you lying there. Something I had been dreading during the whole war. And I knew that the tears I shed for you right there, that I saw Dad cry, I knew that they wouldn't be the last.
But I'm trying to be strong.
You can probably see that Fred. I'm trying to be strong and move on with my life, but then I've got moments like these. Where I feel so lost and alone, that all I can think about is you. And I don't know why I write like I do. But it's just something that comes out. I'm thankful that Charlie hasn't pressed for information about me. Though I'm sure he knows enough form Mum and Dad. I have yet to find anyone that reminds me of you. But then again, I'm seeing you every corner I turn.
I hope you're doing really well Fred. And I'm missing you every day. Do not worry about me too much, I'm doing fine. I'm trying to smile more and joke around. Whether it be because of Lee or you, but I'm trying to stay happy. And I know that you're happy where you are too. Remember that I love you very much, and I miss you just as equally.
Flying around on the back of my broom, looking for something I lost, and something new to find.
Love you.
George