A/N: More crying and another chapter. I do not own Harry Potter, characters, places, etc. Please review!
George sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, wiping away the tears that had slowly and silently run down his face without his notice. He was only two letters in, and he was already a mess. How was he supposed to get through the next thirty? George almost wished he could leave now, find Bill and Charlie, and hold them and have them hold him and he wished that that would be enough. But he knew it wouldn't be, not for him. The one-eared twin placed the second letter down gently on the bed beside him, right on top of Bill's, and pulled out the next letter. Right away, George recognized the handwriting, and his breath caught. He already knew what it was going to say, and he didn't know if he could make it through. But he had to. For Fred.
Fred,
You will never know how hard it was for me to be your big brother. Let me explain. Bill and Charlie were the cool older brothers with cool jobs and ambitions and they taught you to do cool things, like how to fly a broomstick and how to degnome the garden and they sent you cool things like dragon scales and pictures from across the world. They still are pretty cool, although Bill's a father now and he's matured a bit. Charlie's still hanging with his dragons, though. Thought you'd like to know that.
Anyway, I was the third eldest, your third big brother. And I wasn't cool, not by a long shot. I valued school and education and money and the Ministry and all those unimportant things, and I was boring to you. I didn't know how to be someone you looked up to. And you two were so much cooler and happier and easy-going and people liked you because they thought you were all those things and more. I was a prat, Fred, and you and George always told me that but I didn't know how right you were until before the battle at Hogwarts. And then you did the most amazing thing: you forgave me. After all the horrible things I've done – almost disowning my own family – you forgave me. You laughed with me. And then you were gone.
Do you blame me? You should, although George says he doesn't. He says that I made you smile – made you laugh in your last moments, and he said that he was thankful to me for that, for giving you a bit of happiness. But how could I have? I was a prat, a git, a Humongous Bighead. Yet you forgave me, and laughed at my ill-attempt at a joke as I quit under Minister Pius Thickness, as I fought beside you when the explosion went off – and you died. You died, and we had only barely become brothers again. George and I have made amends, though, which helps a lot.
Merlin, do I miss you, Fred. I was such a pompous ass, and a royal screw-up as a big brother when you compare me to Bill and Charlie. But you…you were a brilliant little brother.
Love your bigheaded brother,
Percy.