A/N: These are not all direct lyrics from 'Hello' by Adele, they are mostly based on it, though.


Hello, It's Me.

Hello, it's me.
I was wondering, if after all these years you'd like to see me?

His eyes are red as he stares down at the grave. My grave.

He's been crying.

They say time's supposed to heal you,
Have you done much healing?

He doesn't fall to the ground, like he used to. He seems to be coping much better this year. I am not sure how I feel about this. Do I want him to stay sad? To continue to remember me. Do I want him to move on?

Hello, can you hear me?
I'm stuck up here, dreaming about who we used to be.
When we were younger,

There is a woman next to him. I recognise her, but after all this time it is hard to recall her name. She seems to be making him better.

and free.

He is saying something. But I can barely make out the words anymore. Is he saying good-bye? Is he saying he missed me? How long until I can't hear him at all?

There's such a distance between us,
more than a million miles…

More people join him then. They're smiling, they've brought their children. I know most of the new comers; some even have striking red hair. My still heart reaches for them, but I haven't heard their voices for a long time. They have all moved on.

Hello from the other side,

It gets sombre as they look at my grave, and for the first time I feel like this little tradition is ruining them. They are happier when they forget I'm gone.

At least I can say that I've tried
to tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart.
But it don't matter it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore.

I watch the kids play through the graves, almost forgetting where they are. Their mothers give them small looks and they return to their respectful silence – which to me is much worse. I love to see the smiles, I love to imagine their laughs.

Hello, how are you?

I miss hearing my sisters' voice. I remember when she introduced her first son to me. I remember the tears in her eyes as she told me his name, and wished for him to grow up with the Weasley spirit.

Did you ever make it out of that town where nothing ever happened?

I used to hear stories about my family. Almost every month, my brother would come back and tell me. It didn't matter if it was trivial, or if it were private. Who was I going to tell? He told me when promotions were celebrated, or marriages performed. He told me when I became an uncle; for the first, second, and the seventh time.

His visits started to come less frequently, though, and one day he told me the biggest news of all.
"Fred," he cleared his throat, almost anxious to say it, "I'm getting married."

It's no secret that the both of us
are running out of time.

He came with her, and then with his son. Fred Weasley; named for me. I thought maybe this would draw out our time – but it did the opposite. Now I see him twice a year, and I know soon I'll actually have to say good-bye for good.

So, hello from the other side.

The others start to move off, getting ready for the party that is no doubt happening. Our birthday always was a big celebration.

I must have tried a thousand times
to tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done.

Soon, George too will leave. He will place his hand on the stone, say his farewells and head back the way he came. Then I will wait for a month, when mourners fill the cemetery on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Sometimes they all come back, sometimes it's just him.

Hello from the outside.

In the first couple years, they couldn't come. They told me that it was all too hard; to say good-bye over and over again.

At least I can say that I've tried
to tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart.

And now they've just stopped saying good-bye.

George waves away his wife, who calls Fred to her. Taking his hand, they wave to my brother and slowly leave him, finally alone. For the first time since he arrived I can heard his voice with complete clarity.

"Hello," he begins, then pauses as if he's lost for words. "I miss you." He shakes his head slightly, clearing his throat. "I know I say that far too often, but after all these years, it's still true." I watch, helpless as he places his hands on the stone.

"Fred, I cannot tell you how hard it has been for me. But I don't blame anyone. I think I might have finally found myself in a place where I can accept what happened to us, and to –" he stops and takes a shuddering breath. "I don't want to let you go. It hurts to do anything, but the pain has dulled to just a small throbbing. I need you to know that I lo – I love you."

His head hangs, and he just breathes deeply as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"But," he looks up to the sky, as if searching for me. I want to scream out, I want to show him that I have always been here, always waiting, always beside him when he needed me the most. "But I think I have to – I have to let you move on. I have to move on."

But it don't matter…

"I need you to understand when I say you will never be forgotten, you will never not be missed. I love you."

it clearly…

He stands, taking a few steps away from the grave. He takes a slow, deep breath – and then another for me.

…doesn't tear you apart,

As he turns from my resting place, I see his lips move. I see them form the shape of a word that I will never hear – nor will I hear any other.

…anymore.

"Good-bye."


A/N: Words1,026

I'm just going to say that I have never cried as much as I did writing this story, ever before! I have no idea if anyone else will, but I sobbed.

Please, Please! Tell me what you think! Did you cry? Was it stupid? Does it make you feel anything at all?

Arithmancy - "write about a reunion.." - It was supposed to be the twins reunion, as he doesn't see him for a year, then comes back.