I know what you'd say to me, if you were here. You'd punch my arm and call me a first-class prat, or something to that effect. You wouldn't be wrong, either.

I am a first-class prat. I'm a fool and an idiot and a complete – well, I expect there are loads of words you could suggest.

My head's muddled. I can't make sense of my own feelings. I wish you were here. You had it all, even if you didn't realise it.

I had it all – or I would have. A wife. I never thought I'd have a wife, never in a million years, did you? Certainly not one like Dora. She made everything … colourful. I needed it. After you snuffed it, when it all went so horribly wrong, everything was … dull, dark, without all the jokes and stupid tricks and all that. But Dora … she made it all brighter. She was just this huge burst of energy. She made me feel young and alive again and oh God, I needed that.

I have something to confess. I feel like I ought to. I went to see Harry today, and I told him – told him that Dora is going to have a baby. I wish I could be excited. Harry picked up on it – I said I could come with him on his mission, and he put two and two together and – well, he did what you would have done, he gave me a piece of his mind and said all the things I wasn't letting myself hear and I lost my temper. Don't – I know you'd be looking at me like I'm crazy now, and I think I am. I don't think I really hurt him. But everything he was saying, it just got to me ...

I cannot be a father to this child. Can I? I'm a wreck! I can't handle my own emotions! I love Dora so very much and of course I would love the child, but would it love me? It could be like me. I can't possibly put that upon a child.

Help me, won't you? I don't know how. You seemed so happy. How did you do it? I – oh, God, I know what I want to do. I just want to be with Dora, be with our child, because a child needs a father. I could be a good father, couldn't I? You made it look so easy.

Of course, now I see why Harry was so angry. Children should have fathers. Am I deliberately going to deny a child of that, when it is possible for the child to grow up loved and happy?

I've come to you because – well, I always did. You're the moral one, you nearly always did the right thing, you had your head on straight. I suppose I was just hoping you could steer me in the right direction … and I think you have. You and Harry.

I need the light back. I've been in the dark for too long now. I just never thought this could happen and now it is – I'm expecting something to go wrong. But what if it doesn't, and I threw away the chance? I can't do that. I can take it, I can be a good father and a husband. I want to be. I think – I know – that you would kick me if I wasn't.

It helps, talking to you. It probably shouldn't, and I miss your interruptions and snorts and sarcastic comments, but … you've helped me, although you don't know it.

Right. I need to go and grovel for my life back. I don't know if I'll come again. I hope I won't need to.

You would be happy for me, wouldn't you? Happy that I haven't sat around mourning – well, that I'm not doing that any more? You'd want me to get on with life, fall in love and have a family and take down a few Death Eaters while I'm at it.

Thank you. For everything. I miss you, and I wish you were here to call me a big girl for saying that. I hope we won't see each other again – for a very long time.

I'm putting the lights back on.

This is a bit different, because I thought the others were getting a bit repetitive and I couldn't get into the swing of it. I don't know how much I like this, I know it's not as romantic or anything as the others … and I hope it's clear what's going on. Probably not. Hm.