House: Ravenclaw
Word Count: 518
Category: Drabble
Prompt(s): [Setting] Graveyard, [Event] Birthday
Bonus: [Main Character] Bill Weasley
Year: Head
To most people, April first was a lighthearted day for celebration and jokes. For fun and games and all things merry. But not this April first, not for Bill Weasley anyway. It hadn't been a day of joy or happiness for over two years now. Even though the war had been over for almost two years, Bill still didn't feel the same about April Fool's Day. Today was not a day of joy anymore; instead it was a day of grieving. Which is why he trudged through the dewy grass of a graveyard, a box of Zonko's pranks in hand, along with a small bouquet of flowers. Normally he would have spent it with his family, with Fred and George, since it was their birthday.
But Fred wasn't there anymore, and George kept refusing to have any sort of celebration, preferring to spend the day at the Joke Shop instead. Bill presumed it helped to get his mind off of everything, made the day a little bit less painful. He pulled his brown overcoat tighter around himself, deeming it only fitting that on such a sunny and cloudless day, it would be bone chillingly frigid. Perhaps it was a little joke Fred was pulling from the afterlife, though he knew that was just wishful thinking.
Finally he reached his little brother's headstone that was engraved with loving messages from all their friends and family. It felt almost impossibly colder in the graveyard than when he'd been outside, and whether that was from his sadness or from the death that shrouded the place was anyone's guess. A sigh escaped his lips as he stared sadly down at Fred's gravestone, placing the Zonko's box and the flowers down beside it.
"It's been another year, Freddie," he whispered down to the grave, knowing it was ridiculous and knowing his mischievous little brother couldn't possibly hear him.
"Another year has passed and it's still not any easier to accept it," he mumbled, voice hoarse as he fought back tears.
"Mum still gets George confused for you sometimes," he chuckled wryly, "George never corrects her."
He liked to imagine that Fred would find it morbidly funny, the fact that even after his death their mother still got him and his twin confused. It made George crack a smile every time, sometimes he would even give a witty response as well. It would have made them both happy to see. Bill sighed, knowing it was growing late and Fleur would surely expect him to return for dinner.
"Well," he sighed, looking up to the sky, "I should get home now."
Bill made his way to stand, looking one last time around the graveyard before his gaze fixated onto Fred's headstone again.
"We miss you," he whispered as he left the graveyard, the cold wind blowing past his face as he did so. It must have been a trick of the mind, or at least that's all he played it off to be, but that day on Fred's second birthday after the war, he could have sworn he'd heard a reply.
"I miss you too."