Dear Parvati,
This is really the first chance I've had to write since me and Liam had our child. His name's William Sam, William because I like that name and Sam after Liam's Grandfather. I know, I don't really like Sam, but Liam insisted that we name him after his grandfather. I nearly died laughing when he told me his grandfather's first name, so we decided to name him after his middle name instead.
It's our birthday again. I took the day off work again so I could spend the day with our parents. I took little Will with me, since he actually really likes being at his grandparents. They love spending time with him too. I can't help but think that we must have looked like him when we were young, crawling around and getting into trouble.
I visited your grave briefly. I didn't stay long, just enough to visit. Surprisingly, I wasn't the only one there either, since Hermione was there too. She said that she had a meeting in Hogsmeade, and that she had come in a little early to visit. I've never seen anyone else in the graveyard on our birthday, so it was a little bit of a surprise, though I'll admit that it was nice to not spend time in the graveyard alone, because you do start feeling a little secluded when you're up there by yourself.
The thing that really made me write is what happened when I looked in the mirror today. I hadn't realized it, but we're not identical anymore. Well, we hadn't been identical since our seventh year, when we each got a few scars, but we could cover those up and still look identical again. Now though? I finally look older then you. I'm ten years older than you were when you died, and I look it. My face is no longer youthful as it was, and I think I'm still a little rounder after having William.
Twenty-eight! It's been ten whole years and dozens of letters since you died. It already seems like such a long time ago, though I know ten years isn't really that long. The world is such a different place since the last time you saw it. There's no worry in people's faces. The Hogwarts age kids don't even remember what we had to go through.
Only ten years, but it makes such a difference to me. Not just how I look, but also how I remember that time. Right after, when you died, I had such terrible nightmares. I'm amazed that I slept at all. Now, I remember people who died, not with sadness and grief like I did, but with fondness, trying to keep their memories alive. That's not even mentioning the fact that I have a wonderful husband and very loud child keeping me company now.
I wish that I could have the chance to wish you happy birthday, that I could walk into your house and we could exchange our baby horror stories. I know that I won't get that chance though. I'm glad that I've finally moved past the part we I had to write these letters just to get through the night.
I'm glad that I had the chance to have you as my sister for 18 long years, and I wish that they could have gone on longer. I wish that I had thought to tell you that before you died, and I figured that I should tell you that now, before I move father away from you.
I'm sorry for another one of these emotional, sappy letters, but our birthday always does this to me. I promise the next one (when I finally send it!) will be more cheerful.
With fondness,
Your sister