(Note: JKR owns them.)

My Brothers

"Felicity of Grief!-even Death being kind,

Reminding us how much we dared to love!"

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sometimes, when I was little, I would wonder why I had to have so many brothers. They were loud and obnoxious, and always fighting. I was often the odd one out, the only girl. All I wanted was a sister.

Sometimes, when I was angry with one of them (or all of them) I would tell them that I hated them. All kids say that kind of thing to their siblings, right?

Sometimes, Fred or George or even Ron would call me a baby, or say I was mummy's favorite. I would tell them to go die. I swear I never meant it.

Sometimes I loved being the baby, loved having six older brothers to protect me. Although I never would have admitted it. They were my guardians, and I knew they would never let anything bad happen to me. They never did.

Sometimes it seems like, well, like I never really told them that I loved them. I do love them! Each and every one of my big, obnoxious, hilarious brothers.

Sometimes life isn't fair. One of my brother's now has a face scarred beyond recognition. One had an ear blown off. One blames himself for everything. One wakes up yelling every night from his nightmares. And one… one of my brother's is dead.

Sometimes, things happen that make you regret something you said, or more often, something you didn't say.