Fred,
Summer now, mate. Think you'd like it; women pouring out of the woodwork and, Merlin's left testicle, Muggle fashion is getting just as loose as Mum always feared. Lee's snogging a girl who lives a block from the good ol' Leaky. She's got big -- what did we always call them? -- clappers, but you know what they say about Muggle girls' down-belows. We've got a bet if it's true or not, Lee and I, and I've put twenty Galleons on it. My money, of course. Mum's put all yours in a vault at Gringotts and wants to donate it to charity. CHARITY, MATE! It's a bloody hoot.
I say we ought to give it to Ron. Buy his way into Hermione's knickers or something, because there's nothing else that seems to be working for him. She's telling him, predictable as tin, they ought to wait until after the wedding. It's pecker-tease, the poor boy. You'd have a laugh. Fuck it, I'm sure you are having one.
With love,
Your twin brother,
You still owe me two Sickles,
George
P.S. I'm getting married next month. Patil girl. Not sure which one, really, as I've got a sneaking suspicion they're swapping on me. Can't get enough of that ginger charm, I suppose.
P.S.S. I'm sorry, broke-a-bloke. Was uncalled for. I really ought to draw the line somewhere. It's Padma Patil, the Ravenclaw one. Top of her class and a right good fuck, actually. (Don't tell Christ I said that, won't you? I figure he's already got it out for me without knowing I'm harping on a good woman's decency.)
P.S.S. Bullshit aside, things still aren't the same without you and so on, and so on. Reckon I still love you, brother. Just a bit, though, so don't get too smug up there. A big head never looked good on a Weasley; stretches out the freckles. Be good to my ear, by the by. I'll be coming to collect it soon enough.