Fred woke up to a familiar voice in his ear.
"Fred, wake up!"
He groaned. No-one woke him from his afternoon nap. Not anyone.
Fred opened one eye and peered into moon rimmed glasses. He sat up.
"What now Dumbledore?" He yawned.
"This is important Fred. Get dressed and meet me at the hall. Do I make myself clear?"
"Erm...yes sir!"
Dumbledore disaperated.
"Weirdo." Fred mumbled to himself. He got up from the sofa and headed towards his wardrobe.
Fred's cottage was a small, cosy place. It had five rooms: his bedroom with a wardrobe and a large portrait mirror, a kitchen, living room with a fireplace and a sofa, bathroom (quite old fashioned) and his own counselling room where he talks to his clients.
Fred liked his cottage, but he never spent much time in it; only to eat and sleep. He usually goes down to the lake to fish or swim, or going for a quick ride on his horse which is kept in the barn down the road. But despite all of this freedom, he misses home. He misses the familiar bossy voice of his mother, his father's obsession with muggles, Ginny's big grin and George's laughter. He knew the only way he could see them is to wait patiently for them to die. He knew for a fact it will be his mother and father first to come up first. And he knew he shouldn't think this, but he wishes they would just come up quickly. He's fed up of being the only Weasley. Every morning he wakes up to silence. No noise apart from the birds tweeting and the cockerel shrieking from the barn.
A tear appeared in his eye and rolled down his cheek. Why him? Why is he the one that has to die? Why couldn't he just die with George? Didn't he have the rights to be with his brother? Fred wiped the rolling tear of his cheek furiously.
"I'm being so selfish," he whispered to himself, "just because I've died doesn't mean other people can't live."
He looked down at the floor ashamed, then disaperated.
Fred appeared in the hall once again, and walked fast towards Dumbledore's desk.
When he got there, Dumbledore looked up at him seriously.
"What is it Dumbledore?" Fred said annoyed.
"It's about your letter," Dumbledore said sternly, "please, take a seat."
As soon as Dumbledore said that, a chair appeared next to Fred and he sat down.
"So, what about it?" Fred said leaning forwards nervously.
"I wanted to let you know that the letter is indeed from George." Dumbledore said.
Fred's face went white.
"No," Fred shook his head, "that's impossible!"
"Indeed yes," Dumbledore added, "but it's only possible when a wizard or witch writes a letter to a dead loved one, and is dying themselves."
"What?" Fred said straightening up.
"I'm sorry Fred but I'm afraid that dear George is dying or is going to die."
Fred swallowed and croaked,
"I can't let him die. How is he dying? Does he know he's dying?"
"I'm sorry dear boy but I don't know."
Fred hung his head.
"But, if you want to save him, you have to persuade him to stay on earth."
"How?" Fred looked at Dumbledore.
"Well, I've sent one of my spies to keep an eye on him. You never know, he might not be dying, it could just be going to die in the future, some events we can even prevent from happening."
"What spies?"
"They are known as Death Dancers," Dumbledore began, "they have the ability to travel from the land of the living, to the land of the dead. They're quite rare and I'm very lucky to know a handful of them."
"Okay, can I meet him?" Fred asked.
"She's a girl."
"A lady?"
"No, a young girl named Krystal."
"How old is she?"
There was a pause.
"She's fourteen and one of the best out of all of them I must assure you." Dumbledore said.
"If you say so," Fred said unsure, "can I meet her?"
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
"Yes," Dumbledore said, but was looking a little reluctant, "Krystal!" he shouted.
"I don't think calling her would work." Fred said looking at him, creasing his forehead.
"Well, it just did." A voice said from behind him, making him jump. Fred turned around to see a small, smug looking girl with waist length brown, curly hair and deep brown eyes.
"Fred this is Krystal," Dumbledore smiled pleasantly, "and Krystal this is Fred."
"Hi." Said Krystal, holding her hand out for Fred to shake, but he just stared at it, not really sure what to do.
"She's been keeping an eye on George for you Fred. Haven't you Krystal?" said Dumbledore.
"Yeah," Krystal said, crossing her arms, "and I've got a job there."
"Where?" Fred said.
"Well, at your shop," she then looked at Dumbledore, "he seems to be doing fine. I told Ginny about it, she understands."
"Ginny." Fred whispered. A lump formed in his throat.
Krystal looked deep into Fred's eyes.
"Don't worry Fred; everything's going to be alright."
Suddenly Fred felt a weird sensation, like he was dreaming. Then, as if by magic, the lump in his throat was gone, and he smiled; which was a surprise for him because he hadn't smiled for a while, since he died. Then he started to laugh, but he couldn't hear it very well because everything had gone fuzzy. He heard an old man's voice shouting at someone and his vision went black.
Thanks for taking your time to read :D Please reveiw and tell me what you think :)