A/N: this idea came into my head after I finished reading DH and couldn't stop crying. This will technically be a one-shot, although I may write another chapter. Please review.

Disclaimer: if I owned them, nobody would have died.

Dear Fred,

Your funeral was today. Everyone was there. Well, except for Lupin and Tonks and that's because their funeral was right after yours. Did you know they died too, Fred? Well, you must know now.

Mum cried so much, Fred. Even Percy was teary-eyed. Yeah, I know. Even Perce. Ron and Hermione say they're going to get married, Fred. Imagine. Ickle Ronniekins getting married. To Hermione, no less. I think Harry and Ginny are up next, it's like they're connected at the hip. Always rustling around in their bedroom at night, I swear to Merlin. Keeps me awake, they do. But then I don't sleep much anyways anymore.

The bedroom's so lonely without you, Fred. Sometimes Mum'll come in and start to say Fred and George and stop herself because she remembers there is no Fred anymore. There's just George. There's just me.

God, Fred, you had to be the hero, didn't you. You couldn't have just stayed back with the rest of us, or ran and hid when everyone else did. You had to be special. You had to fight back. I know you were trying to help, but you could have done that another way. You didn't have to die, Fred.

Remember Colin Creevy? That little bugger who followed Harry around all fourth year, the one who took all the pictures? He's dead too, Freddy. But I guess you know that too.

I like to imagine you and Remus and Tonks and everyone who died are up there, laughing and drinking tea and…. Well, I don't know what else, but I know that you're happy.

I hate thinking that you died. It sounds so permanent. Death is too permanent. Why couldn't you have been knocked into a coma or turned into werewolf or something? At least we still could have talked if you had been turned into werewolf. Maybe I would have let you bit me, so we could have been werewolves together. It would have been fun.

Merlin's beard, Fred, I miss you so much. I'm thinking of closing the shop. I just can't do it. I can't be funny. It's like when you died something in me died too.

I haven't gotten up from your grave, Fred. If I leave, it makes it real. If I leave you here, all by yourself in a graveyard, you'll really be dead. God, don't be dead, Fred. Don't be dead. I can't stand it if you're dead.

I really hate you sometimes, you know. Really, really, really hate you, you fucking bastard. How am I supposed to live if I'm missing my other half, you wanker? It's like part of my heart, of all my vital organs just upped and left. You fucker. You utter and complete fucker.

God, Fred. Just don't be dead. Be alive, be breathing, be laughing. Be here. Not there. Not there, where I can't go with you.

I miss you, Fred. Come back.

Love,

George

Hope you enjoyed it.