Letters to Fred [CURRENTLY OPEN TO REQUESTS]

Harry #2

I never know how to begin this.

It's been a whole since I wrote to you, I know.

But that's because of how many attempts I've made only to crumple up the parchment to recycle it.

It feels kind of... forced.

What do I say?

Questions? They'll just be left unanswered.

Information? About what, exactly? If you can read these, then surely you can see exactly what's going on, in which case you don't need me to write down the current happenings.

Apologies? What good will that do? I've list count of how many times I've heard the phrases "Saying sorry won't magically fix everything" and "nothing can bring back the dead".

Yes, I am sorry that you of all people died.

Yes, I know that you should have had a much longer life.

Yes, I would have gladly sacrificed myself and put myself in your place.

No, I can't do that now and now know that doing so would just pretty much guarantee the deaths of all of us.

People like your mum and sister think that I'm not coping very well, but they're wrong.

I have grown up with nothing but death. My parents, Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Lupin - I don't mean to be disrespectful, but you are just one in a long list of many.

During the war, I didn't have the time or chance to grieve. Which is why I my seem more distant than before; I'm not just coping with you're death, but with the others', too.

I wish you were still alive, of course I do.

But if I've learnt just one thing, it's that wishes don't always come true.

You'd most likely tell me that I'm a right little ray of sunshine if I had said that to you, face to face.

I guess I'm going to have to keep on wishing for impossible things just to prove you wrong.

-Harry.