Author's Note: Just an idea that came to me while my roommate and I were discussing fanfics. I hope I got Fred's voice right and I hope you like it. Don't forget I love all reviewers forever. 8)

It's getting dark. Yeah well that tends to happen when the sun goes down brother. Shut up! He thought to the voice in his head, I'm trying to mourn. You've had all day to mourn; it's really starting to bore me. "Please, please go away…" he begged. Is that what you want? Well Merlin what kind of brotherly love is that?

Is that what I want? He's gone. Gone. But maybe it's better that he's still here in my head. Oh yeah totally normal. You know I always thought Charlie would be the one to go bonkers; then again Uncle Bilius is your favorite. "I'm not bonkers!" The cry echoed in the dark sending a chipmunk scampering back to the safety of the nice, quiet bushes. Yup all the shrinks here in the after-life tell me sane people shout to themselves all the time. Do you ever stop talking? Well considering I'm you obviously not.

Don't be stupid Fred you're not me. I'm dead. I'm not really talking in your head. Oh hey! That rhymed! Yeah, yeah you're a poet who didn't know it. Actually brother, that's you. Remember I'm just in your subconscious. No, you're real…you have to be! Sorry. "…I miss you…" Who wouldn't really? But you have to let go. I can't. Yes. You can. Why can't you just stay…I'm holding you back buddy. Let go and live it up for me, ok? I'll always miss you. You damn well better, bro. Now leave me alone, I'm busy planning the awesome prank I'm gonna pull when you finally kick the cauldron and I better have a lot of time to plan. You got it. I got it. Bye Fred…..

The cool nighttime breeze was a comfort as he walked along the path to the graveyard entrance that the rest of the funeral goers had tread earlier that afternoon. As he walked through the silent streets of Ottery St Catchpole on the way back to the Burrow, a thought occurred to him. He turned back to look at the cemetery in the distance and gave what he thought was a more fitting eulogy then the one given earlier. "Mischief managed." Then Ronald Weasley went home, ready to "live it up" for his brother that no longer could.