Summary: Fred died, how will some of his friends deal with the pain?

A/N This is supposed to be a bit tragic but I'm not very good with that kind of stuff. So uh please read it...

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the characters belong to JK Rowling and the poem (I will add it soon, I lost the paper that Mary wrote it on) belongs to Mary.

Remorse

I buried my head in Alicia's shoulder when I saw Fred's face. It was so un-Fred-like. His laugh lines had been changed into a very serious expression, which he almost never wore. His eyes were closed so no one could see the twinkle in them.

I remembered how I had found out that he had died.

Our Quidditch captain had been giving us a pep talk at a timeout when an owl had dropped a letter on my head. I recognized it as the Weasley owl.

"Hang on, let me open this." I had said.

I opened the letter expecting some new invention from their shop but all I saw was George's shaky handwriting. It read,

Angelina,

Fred has died. I knew he'd want you to know first. Please come to the shop. The funeral is tomorrow.

George

I sniffed loudly. Suddenly I felt a comforting arm on my shoulder. I turned round to see George.

"He loved you, you know." He said.

"I know...if I could...could see him...see him...once more I could tell...tell him that I...I love him too..." I whispered breaking off into sobs.

A/N Ok if you're really stupid and didn't know who that was it was Angelina. Err, keep reading and please review. Um, I don't quite know what flames are but since I'm a pyromaniac they sound pretty. So um, flames will be use to toast my marshmallows (yummy!) Follow the arrow...

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