Letters to Fred [CURRENTLY OPEN TO REQUESTS]

Fred II

Hi Fred.

That's weird. Like I'm writing to myself. But I'm not, I'm writing to you.

That's also weird. The idea of writing to you, I mean.

I say/write that I'm writing to you, but does it really count if you'll never see the letter? And how can you really write to someone you've never known?

People say that you and dad used to be exactly the same, and that if you knew one, you knew the other.

I never even knew that version of dad.

And I don't actually believe them. How can anyone be exactly the same as someone else? No matter how small, there are always differences between people. Or that's what I think, anyway.

Sure, I've seen the photos and you certainly look the same. Being the same is different though.

I'm going off the subject though... Not that I'm entirely sure what the subject is.

In some ways, it's like the photos of you aren't really you, they're just of someone else who looks like dad. I know it's you, and it sounds odd, but it just sort of feels as though you never existed, despite the solid evidence that you did. That's all that remains of you though - all that remains of anyone when they're gone: evidence of their existence.

That sounds kind of depressing, but that's just what I'm thinking as I write this. Because what else is there?

Given that I can tell from my clean and organised clothes that you sort out my room, Grandma, I know that you'll be reading this instead of your son, and my Uncle. I promise that I'm not depressed or anything, because you'd worry about that sort of thing.

I also know that when I return here, there'll be tear marks staining the parchment from your realisation that none of have ever - or will ever - meet out Uncle Fred. My namesake, to me, is just a person I'm related to, who made dad happy and I never met.

If you're somehow able to read this Fred I, I would like to say one last thing before signing off: thank you. Thank you for being a memory to fix dad when he's upset, for being the person who caused the grief that got my parents together. That sounds silly and ridiculous and rather horrible... but thank you.

From your nephew,
Aka the boy continuing to cause the mischief that comes with the name,

Fred Weasley II