George sat on Fred's old bed, a neatly folded piece of parchment clutched tightly in his left hand; his other hand was occupied by Hermione's. Fred wrote a dying wish, and only Fred and Hermione were addressed to read it.
"Are you ready?" He asked, Hermione who had been silently crying nodded and wiped her eyes on her right sleeve. George shakily opened the parchment that was sealed with wax. Hermione rested her head on George's shoulder; they both started to read;
Dear George Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger,
If you are reading this you survived the war, congratulations, and unfortunately I did not. I only have a few things to say, as I realize how much this may hurt you to read. George, do not blame yourself for what happened, if you do I will find a way to kick your arse.
Hermione, I am in love with you and always will be, I miss our relationship, I know I do and always will. Now for my last wish. George, you must marry Hermione. I have reasoning, 75% of my love was in Hermione and 25% in George, no just kidding. Half of the love I mustered while I was alive went to George, and the other half Hermione. Therefore for me to be whole in the hearts and memory of the Weasley family, I would prefer you two to marry and have twelve kids. No joking again! You don't have to have any kids, just please be legally married. Or you know what? Make mom happy, have one kid.
One last thing time, I love you George, you were and still are an amazing brother. Hermione, I love you and always will, even though you are marrying my twin brother.
Sincerely,
Fredrick Weasley
(P.S. Who says you can't play jokes when you're dead?)