I loved him more than life itself. In fact, the world, my world, is now over. He's gone. Here I sit, next to the man who captured my heart. But, the problem is, the man still has my heart and the man is dead. My heart will always remain with him. This man was there for me, even in my darkest night. He was there with me in the happiest of my days. But now he is gone. I am going to sit here and recall every moment, (whether it be good or bad) that I had with this man. His dead body may not notice it, but I know he is up there in Heaven, watching over me. I wave up at the sky and I know Arthur's spirit is waving back. Tears gleam on my face as I stifle a sob. My heart cracks into a million different pieces, as if his death took my fragile heart and threw it on the glass floor as hard as it possibly could. I know my heart will never piece itself together after this. So here goes with recalling the memories. I take a deep, shaky breath and close my eyes.
I am at the sorting ceremony. My sorting ceremony. Oh I remember this! I hover over the small 11-year-old me. My curly hair is still a vibrant red. I am still a Prewett. My brothers are still there, third and fourth years. Gideon then Fabion. Both brave and funny. Oh dear god, I miss them so much. Finally, my name is called and I am sorted into Gryffindor. A lanky, kind faced second-year with red hair like mine smiles warmly. My eyes water as I know him to be Arthur. He was always too nice to me. He invites me over and tells me about his annoying sister at home and his equally annoying Prefect brother. Fab and Gid, congratulate me on becoming a Gryffindor, as that is their house too. But I remember how couldn't help thinking about Arthur Weasley. That night, I would lay in bed and think. About Arthur. That lovely boy who had red hair like mine.