A/N: I left this a little ambiguous, so you can decide what happened to Teddy. No huge warnings other than some sadness.

Dear Teddy,

It's been a while since I've written a letter. These old hands are good for mending things, but not so much for holding quills. I always get the ink everywhere and Molly yells at me for it. Did you know that Muggles have these things called 'pens' that write without having to dip them in any ink? Magical stuff. They really are so clever. Your Aunt Hermione has a few pens that she's willing to lend for my collection, so if you're home for summer, I'll tell you all about them.

It was Molly's idea to write to you. She has all the best ideas, and in all my long years of loving her, I've learned to trust that she knows what she's talking about. The trouble is, I'm getting old, Teddy. Your grandfather isn't as spry as he used to be! All those years chasing after Fred and George and trying to stop Charlie from running away to find dragons every five minutes hasn't done my back any good. It's worn me down. A lot of things have worn us all down, truthfully.

You don't want to hear about an old man's woes though! I tell you, it's quite embarrassing whenever I see Andromeda and she races ahead of me. Always doing things, that woman is. Some day I'd like to show her my shed and tell her what it's like to sit down and put your feet up. Not that I don't understand why she's like it. Keeping busy helps.

Speaking of keeping busy, Ginny just got a new job. Quidditch is still something she loves, but she's played professionally for quite a while now, so I'm not surprised to see that she's changing course. She's been wanting something to keep her mind off things for a while, and the press are never very kind when they see her playing on the pitch, despite everything. The Lovegoods needed someone to take over a few of their columns in the Quibbler, so she jumped at the chance. I must admit, I don't mind reading the Quibbler. Most of it is pure rubbish, but it makes for a good chuckle. And you know I never like to dismiss something without proof! So perhaps there is such a thing as a Sock-Beaked Birdnapper.

That reminds me, do you remember when you used to come over here when you were very little, and build things in my shed? I was digging around the other day and I found this basket full of socks that had all been glued together. It was like a boulder! I'm pretty sure that was one of your creations. Nothing used to make me happier than tinkering away with you by my side, bobbing around and asking endless questions, getting all tangled up in my projects. You had so many questions. I got a little tangled up too, trying to answer them all, but I like to think I did a good job at trying. That's all any of us can do, can't they?

It rained something awful today. The garden needed a good drink, but I can't help but worry about you. The clouds have been rolling in all week, and tonight looks like it's going to be another stormy one. I've never seen the wind this bad before. All of the chickens are soaked to the bone, and even the gnomes have taken shelter. I'm sure if you were here, you would have invited them all in for tea and biscuits, and laughed when they made a mess of Molly's kitchen. You always did like to cause trouble. But you're such an angelic boy, with such a big heart, I think you could get away with anything. You have Harry's heart of gold, and his penchant for trouble. Although I don't think even he would help gnomes in from a storm.

He should be here this evening. He comes over when the weather's really bad. Molly thinks it's because it was storming that night, but it might be because he just loves her onion soup that much. It's been a little while since he popped over. The last time I saw him, he was frantic. I think he'd found another lead, but there's so much that he can't tell us, so we don't know for sure. We can only guess. Molly keeps trying to make him rest, to slow down, but he won't listen. We can tell he's exhausted. Nobody wants him to give up, but it's been a while now. Too long, I think, to keep going like this. Slowing down is inevitable at this point. But then I think: it would take a miracle to get me to stop if my family was missing. I suppose my family is missing, aren't they?

But you don't have to worry. We're taking good care of Harry. He's got warm soup and a place to sleep and someone to talk to whenever he wants. He'll never give up, I know that. It wasn't your fault, and I don't know if it hurts or comforts you to know that he'll never move on from this, Teddy, but it bears saying. It's not as if I can post this to you. If I could, maybe everything would be alright. Harry might not be able to move on, but we'll make sure he keeps going. I know that's what you would want. I only wish we could do the same for you. When you come home, there will be soup and a place to sleep waiting for you too. When we find you, we'll make sure to bring you in out of the rain and take care of you.

I hope wherever you are, it's warm.

Love,

Arthur

[Word Count: 960]