Dear my little brother Fred,

I know I must be the last person you want to hear from, but I need to write this letter. Even if you'll never read it, I need to write it.

Believe it or not, growing up, I actually liked you and George better then all our other siblings. I know family isn't supposed to choose favorites but you and George were mine. I still remember when you two were babies, Mum told me "These are your little brothers, you have to take care of them, the way Bill and Charlie take care of you". I didn't really get it at the time, after all I was only two years old. I'm not sure if you remember but you, George, and I used to actually act like brothers. I miss those days, when we were just small kids. I don't think you or George ever actually liked me that much, though neither of you seemed to like anybody that much other then each other. But, I liked to believe you liked me better then our other siblings. After all, you picked on me a lot more. That was your way of showing you cared, right? Even if it wasn't, I'll still believe it is. I'll delude myself this way so my image of you doesn't fade anymore then it has.

I'm sorry, Fred. I'm sorry that I was never a good brother. I didn't obey Mum when she told me to take care of you. The second we got to school, I was all too happy to ignore her words. You and George, and I guess the whole family, called me a prat. I know it's true. I like to pretend that I'm smarter then most people, that in some way I'm better. But I know, I'm the biggest prat in the world. I abandoned everyone. And for what? The Bloody Ministry. I don't care about the Ministry anymore or anything that has to do with it. I'd burn it all if it meant having you back home, if it meant George smiling again.

Please Fred, please come back home. It's so quiet now, we try to act like there isn't something missing, even George tries to hide it. We all seem to be under the delusion that if we pretend you're not dead it'll make everything better. But it just makes it worse, all it is doing is numbing our pain.

I can't keep writing this letter, Fred, I'm sorry. I can't do it. It's making my chest ache.

Love,

Percy the Prat

(P.S. I still blame myself for why you're gone.)

Percy put the quill down and dried his eyes with his sleeve. He thought writing the letter would have made his pain go away. He thought he would feel better. All it did was make him realize just how much he missed his little brother. He suddenly felt restless. He needed to get up and leave his room, leave the letter. His mouth felt dry and in need of water. The kitchen was empty, it was late at night and the only noise was the gnomes scurrying about the garden. Percy, as silently as he could, got himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter. That was when George came bounding down the stairs.

"Oh, sorry, didn't know you were in here." He said, moving past Percy to get his own glass of water.

"Here, I'll get it." Percy told him, taking the glass and filling it for him.

"You've been crying." George said bluntly, noting Percy's red eyes.

"So have you," Percy said, it wasn't some clever deduction on his part, George was always crying at night.

The two stood in silence for a good while, unsure of what to say. George finished his glass of water first and set it in the sink. "Night Perce." He said.

Percy caught the name, he hadn't called him that in forever. He turned and watched George's retreating back and then thought he was seeing things. For a second, it looked as though George had both of his ears. Percy shook his head and told himself that he was just tired before walking back upstairs to his room.

He was about to crawl into bed when he noticed the letter still on the desk. He decided to read over it, since he was going to be the only one who would ever read it. Picking the letter up, he started to read.

Dear Perfect-Prefect-Percy,

I do remember when we were kids. I miss those days too. You're right, George and I had always liked you just a tiny bit better then our other siblings. You were so much fun to pick on. Even well into our time at school I still slightly looked up to you.

I don't have much else to tell you, at least nothing too sentimental like what you said. I'll tell you this though. You're not a prat. You were, but you came back, Perce. That's what matters. None of us in the family ever hated you for leaving. We were angry sure, but hate was never there. The second you climbed into the Room of Requirement I forgave you.

Oh, and don't feel bad for me, death isn't that bad, except for the fact that it's lonely. I miss George, I miss Mum and Dad, I miss everyone. Including you. I want you to take care of Georgie for me, okay? He's trying to do everything on his own for the first time in his life, I know he can do it but he might need to know that someone is there if he needs help. Also, don't blame yourself. I died because I was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, not because you told a joke. If anything, you made sure I died laughing. I wouldn't have wanted to die any other way.

Take care of yourself, Perce.

Love,

Fred

(P.S. Thanks for the glass of water. Believe or not, there's no water in the afterlife.)

Percy dropped into his chair, letter in hand. He was crying again, damn Fred, making him cry this much again.