Letters to Fred- A Harry Potter Fanfiction (ON HOLD)

The Second

Dear Fred,

Harry's still out there looking for the stone. I dunno mate, I feel like I can talk to you whenever I want to. You're making stupid joke sets in your room, or you're selling products to first years, or you're in the bathroom. But you're not dead, that's impossible.

Now I know what you're thinking, the stone isn't going to bring you back to life! Don't get my hopes up! But he's the thing. In this whole bloody universe, I was able to talk to you when I wanted to, and now I can't. I can't send Pig to you with these letters, I can't barge into your room whenever I like and I can't go to George. I just can't, because he's not you, however much you tried to convince mum he was.

I'm writing these letters so you can read them when Harry finds the stone. Feel the first moments of pain and grief that you've caused us mate, it hurts doesn't it? But it's ok. I guess I'm not as hurt as mum is. It's mad, the pain that one person can cause isn't it?

But, uh, it's mad how much better one person can make you feel. A light, that's what Hermione is. She's the reason I can write these to you without flooding this place faster than you can say 'Moaning Myrtle'. That's what Ginny needs right now. When she thought Harry was dead, straight after you died, it was like someone had broken a bit of her. I think she'd give anything to give you one more taste of her bat-bogey hex.

I guess I'm done for now. I bet I've really dampened your mood now. I promise I'll find a joke for next time. That's right, I'll be back.
I just wish you could be too.

Ron