"Dear Fred"

Summary: George finally says goodbye to Fred in a letter.

Disclaimer: Not mine. All J.K. Rowling's.

Dear Fred,

I honestly don't know what to say. I know that's a lame way to start, but it's true. I can't exactly start this letter the way most letters do: How are you? How's you life been so far? I can't say these things, and it's bloody cruel, but I'll go on anyway.

I miss you. A lot.

I know what you're going to say to that. "I'm bloody dead, George, of course you're going to miss me, you git. Everyone is going to miss me." But you're my TWIN, Fred! In the name of Merlin's most baggy Y fronts, you're my fucking OTHER HALF.

And... I remember. Everything.

Sounds like we were having a bloody affair, doesn't it? I'm just as big a prat as Ron or Percy, I know I am, but I'm baring my damn heart and soul here. Just let me explain. I remember, as kids, how we were total pranksters. Hell, our whole life was like a joke to us. We nearly killed Ron with the Unbreakable Vow, don't you remember? We never took out NEWTS, but we still managed to run a brilliant joke shop-even better then Zonko's.

But that's the point, Fred. WE did all those things. Together. It was always "Fred and George" this, and "Fred and George" that. Never just Fred. Never just George.

So what am I supposed to do now that it's just George?

Please, anything. Send me anything to let me know what I should do! I'm barely keeping my potion boiling. Should I continue the store? I don't know how I'm going to run it by myself.

I can still hear your voice. What are you trying to tell me, Fred? What should I do with my life, now severed from yours? Now I know what you would say to me:

"Would you shut the hell up, George? Buck up and quit wallowing in self-pity, would you? You're bloody depressing me, you prat. It's not like you're the only person left here. You're not alone."

And do you know what Fred? You're right. You're right.

Doesn't change anything, though. I still don't know what to do.

But, I think I can get there now. Slowly, yes, but I'll make it. I think I just need to stop and think about what I should do next. But I'm not alone. I know that now. I can be just George.

I'm still going to miss you, Fred. Always. But it's time for me to let go and move on. It's time to start my life again. Time to start my career as the future Undersecretary to the Minister! Kidding, kidding.

George

…

Ron and George Apparated about 100 feet from Fred's grave, only a hill away. They were standing next to a tree of considerable size, with a few green leaves sprouting among the light layer of snow partially melted on the branches. It stood aloof, alone except for Fred's grave and the mile-long, ankle-deep stream running in the valley below.

George was clutching the letter in his hands. He looked nervous, but determined.

Ron looked at him. "Do you want me to-?"

George shook his head. With a last sharp intake of breath, he began to amble down the hill and climb the one where Fred was laid to rest. Ron stood by the tree, waiting.

George stared down at his brother, then at the sparkling water below. They were only about a mile from the Burrow; among the rolling hills, Fred and George found this little creek during their scavenging. It became a hideout ever since. Nobody knew about this place until George asked to bury his twin here, although he had a feeling his dad had always known.

Again he looked at the grave. Then he set down the letter, sealed in an envelope as white as the melting snow dusting the ground.

He heard the crunch of the snow as Ron came up behind him. George didn't turn around, didn't give any indication Ron was there, even though he had placed his hand on his shoulder. Finally, George looked over at him.

"You ready?" Ron asked. George looked at the water again.

"Yeah."

Below, the water was incessantly flowing.

A/N: Written by Caseyandra! This is my tribute to Fred. He will be missed.