A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews guys, as always. It means a lot to me to have your support as this story comes to a close. We still have a ways to go, my friends, but it's come to that time. Seven chapters…let the countdown begin.
Also, this chapter isn't one of my best, but I tried, guys. I really tried.
Please review!
"One, two, three…"
Four, five, six
"Seven." George counted, and leaned away from the almost empty box, eyebrows raised. He whistled. "Seven letters left. Can it really almost be over?"
Well, I wouldn't say it's almost over. More like, the beginning of the end? Or maybe the end of another chapter in your life? Beginning of the middle of the end?
"Don't strain yourself."
Don't get cranky with me just cause it's past your bedtime, old man.
"Fred, if you were still alive, we'd be the same age."
But alas, I have the burden of being eternally twenty-one. No wrinkles, no crows feet, no grey hair -
"No common sense, no dignity -"
Can it, Grandpa.
"Hey. Not a Grandpa. Roxanne and Fred Jr. are way too young for that." George snapped good-naturedly.
They sure are growing up fast, aren't they?
"Too fast, if you ask me."
Everyone has to grow up sometime, George. Grow up, move on, let go. It's all a part of life.
"Yeah, well. Life kind of sucks sometimes."
That's when you know you're doing it right.
"Excuse me?"
Life isn't worth living if there isn't some pain, you know? Something to lose? Some risk to take? So when it does go wrong, when it does suck, that's how you know what you were doing was worth it.
"No pain, no gain?" George surmised.
More like, if there's no heartache, there was nothing to risk loving in the first place.
"Wow." George hummed. "Death has indeed made you wise, brother."
I'm quoting Dumbledore, actually. But the point still stands!
George laughed under his breath. He could just imagine Fred leaning over him, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, with Albus Dumbledore over one shoulder, and maybe Remus Lupin or Tonks over the other. Hell, maybe Harry's dad and Sirius were laughing right along with him right now. Who really knew?
So, anyways. You got seven more letters, Georgie dear. We got to get moving. It's almost time.
"Time? Time for what?" George paused in his picking up another envelope.
Not yet, just…soon. Come on, then. Open it.
The joviality he had felt moments before evaporated in seconds, leaving him cold and unsure what his brother's spirit was trying to allude to him. He pushed it as far back as his mind would allow him and flicked the wax seal open and sliding out the newest letter. Thankfully, this one did not smell like piss whiskey, but rather, it had the scent of…
"Is that leather? And- lavender? Maybe?" George sniffed the paper again. "Chocolate? Why does the paper smell like chocolate?"
Chocolate, lavender scent, and leather, to be more specific.
George unfolded the paper quickly, his curiosity piqued and the other concerns falling away for the moment. As his eyes skimmed the writing, searching for the end, for the signature, he felt a grin quirk on his lips. He recognized this writing. He had passed over half a dozen notes back and forth with her, gotten a thousand memos about Quidditch practice and joke ideas and been hexed more times than he could remember during dueling practice by this five foot four woman of his past.
Alicia Spinnet.
"Alicia." George huffed. "I can't believe it. I totally didn't even realize I hadn't read her letter yet. I mean, I read Angelina's and Katie's and at some point I must have known Alicia was in the pile somewhere, too, but I guess..I forgot? Maybe I thought I missed it. I mean, I have read over fifty of these things now. Alicia Spinnet."
One of the best Chasers on our team back in the day. Had the technique down to a science, she did.
"I always thought she would make it into the major leagues." George sighed. "But I never heard her name come up, not like Woods. And Ginny said she wasn't in any of the rosters. It was like…she disappeared from Quidditch. Wonder what she's been up to these last years?"
Hm. I don't know. It's not like you have the answer right in front of your oddly misshapen nose or anything. Nope. No possible way to answer a question that even Ickle-Ronnykins would be able to answer without help.
"Git."
Buffoon.
"Imbecile."
Read the damn letter already, twit. Remember what I said about running out of time?
George did remember. He had been trying not to think about it, actually, but Fred seemed hell bent on reminding him every few minutes. Trying to contain the clenching in his heart, George refocused his attention on what was in front of him: a letter from an old friend.
Fred.
Hey. It's me. Alicia. Spinnet. Remember me? Of course you do. You don't forget your friends. Never have, never will. That was always something great about you, Fred. You remembered everything, even the stuff that might seem stupid or trivial to some people. You knew it all. It's one of the things I miss most about you.
I never became a famous Chaser. I know, big surprise. Everyone always expected me to go into Quidditch - you, George, Wood, Angelina, Katie. Everyone always figured I'd be on the fast track straight to the World Cup. I never thought I was that good, you know, but you guys sure did. In all honesty, back then, I didn't have much else going for me. I was decent witch, sure enough, but not like Hermione, alright. I wasn't the brightest in my year. I didn't excel in any one aspect of magic. And I wasn't like you guys, with your endless pranks and inventions and ideas that had the whole wizarding world just eating out of your hands. I wasn't part of any legacy or do any heroic deeds or fight for any cause larger than myself. Not until Dumbledore's Army or the Battle, anyways. I was always just - there. Just Alicia. So for a long while, I thought that maybe you guys were right. Maybe Quidditch was my way to be someone.
But it wasn't for me. I trained and trained every day since leaving Hogwarts, but when the time came for tryouts, I just…I didn't go. I knew that if I went, I would make it. I knew I was good. But I also knew that I didn't want what everyone else wanted for me. I wanted to find myself, something I never did while I was at school.
I think it was a year after we left school, the year before the Second War got underway…and you sent me an owl asking to meet up if I wasn't busy. Well, I wasn't. I was living with my parents at the time, working in a Muggle store just to pass the time. I wasn't even very good. I had to use magic to fix half the mistakes I made. (Also, Muggles have no sense of what anything is worth. Some days it will be one price, and then less the next day, and then double the price a week later! They can't ever make up their own mind)
But anyways, we met up. It was just you and me, Fred. You said that George could handle the store himself while we talked, and I remember feeling a little concerned, but this was where you told me that you were planning to propose to Angelina. And I was…shocked, to say the least.
I have spoken to Angelina now and then, more recently since this letter thing has come around. She had wanted you to propose to her back then. You two would have been beautiful together, I know it. When you told me that you were planning to propose, and that you wanted my help in planning the wedding (me and Katie, of course), I nearly burst into tears, I was so happy. Fred, you have the kindest heart of anyone I know. You and your brother. There was always so much more to you than anyone knew.
So we talk for a while about how you were going to propose, and then all of a sudden you asked me what I've been doing since I left school. I remember feeling so small right then. I had nothing going on. Nothing. Here you were, with your own business and planning to marry my best friend, and there I was. Nothing. But before I said anything, you said,
"You know, you could be a wedding planner. You got the knack for style, Alicia. Remember those homemade banners you used to make for the team when you were a reserve?"
Boom. Suddenly, there it was. I remembered. Back when I was a reserve Chaser for the Gryffindor team, I used to get all excited just to be on the bench that I would do anything to show spirit. So I made banners and scarves that flashed colors and shirts that had a charm that would flash the players names over and over again, and a hat that sprayed fireworks every time someone scored a goal. And I was the one who helped Flitwick decorate the Great Hall for the Yule Ball. And I used to tailor all the girls dresses and cloaks around the holidays to pick up some extra coin. And then, you had just asked me to help plan your wedding.
I realized, maybe there was more to me than met my own eye. Maybe I was good at something other than Quidditch after all.
So I became a wedding planner - but not just for Wizards. I cater to Wizards and Muggles alike. I mean, it's a whole other game, let me tell you, but its fascinating. And apparently, I'm very good at it! Most witches and wizards tend to have their own flair for weddings as it is, so having this whole other clientele really helps me out, but lately, I've been getting more and more clients in the Wizarding community. Everyone wants me to help plan and design their weddings or parties. You know I hired Luna part-time to help? And Ginny, when she has the time. It's been amazing. I never thought I could do something so…so….Muggle oriented and have it turned into one of the best aspects of my life.
And it's all because of you, Fred. Sure, it wasn't exactly where I thought my life was going. And to anybody who asks, compares me to who I was, yeah. I'll admit, it's a little out of character for me. A wedding and party planner. Like, seriously? Ha! But I love it. Dean Thomas (you remember him) let's me buy some of his artwork now and then and I use those designs to create new themes. I'm hoping to maybe open a shop of my own one day soon, selling designs and clothing and party supplies, kind of similar to what Zonko's was, but with less prank items.
I don't know. I don't know what the future holds for me. But I know that these last few years, doing what I wanted and being happy about it, was because you remembered something about me that I forgot.
When I heard you died, I cried for two weeks. I didn't get out of bed, I didn't go outside. I cried and cried. And then Angelina came over and she cried and cried with me. And I sat there, holding her and had her hold me because we lost you. We had loved you, albeit differently, but all the same. And she told me that she had thought you were the one, that you were going to propose. She had found the ring while helping Ginny clean out some of the boxes in your old office. She could have been your wife, and the knowledge of that, I think, almost killed her in the wake of your death.
But that's not to say I don't support George and her. I do. I think she loves him with all her heart, and she couldn't have that if she hadn't also loved you with everything she had.
You know, I don't have any idea whether or not I said what I wanted to in this letter. Did it sound insane? Did it sound too much not like me? Like I was a stranger? We haven't spoken in twenty years, Fred Weasley. Maybe we are strangers to each other. Both of us, in places we never expected us to be at this time in our lives.
Whether this letter is a success or whether it's an absolute failure, Fred - I miss you. Angelina misses you. George misses you. The world misses you.
You are missed. And you are loved.
Always.
Alicia.
"Always." George murmured. One word could mean so much.
"Always."
